The Sewer Rats
JT Griffiths
© 2014 JT Griffiths
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Contents
Chapter 1: Hide-and-Seek
Chapter 2: The Tram
Chapter 3: Dad’s Warning
Chapter 4: Discovered
Chapter 5: The Tunnel
Chapter 6: The Cavern
Chapter 7: The Beach
Chapter 8: The Skycart
Chapter 9: Stowaways
Chapter 10: Newton
Chapter 11: Goldilocks
Chapter 12: Hunted
Chapter 13: Outside the Dome
Chapter 14: The Job
Chapter 15: The Party
Chapter 16: The Battle
Chapter 17: The Crates
Chapter 18: The Jump
Chapter 19: The Pellets
About the Author
Chapter 1
Hide-and-Seek
Tapper inspected the growing crowd. Scanning the mass of children gathering below the small mound where he stood his eyes came to rest on a mousy-haired girl who sat cross legged with her back to him, busy laughing and gossiping with her friends. He continued to stare and nervous whispers were exchanged. After a short while the girl turned to face him.
Carina shuddered. Tapper’s gaze pierced her eyes then she felt them burrow further into her mind, exposing her thoughts and fears, whittling away all the happiness she had been enjoying only moments before. The stare only lasted a moment before Tapper broke the spell with a fake smile and a wink, but Carina suffered from their chilling affects long after. This had been no friendly greeting and no words needed to be spoken for the meaning to be clear. The malicious grin that spread across Tapper’s face as he examined the rest of the growing crowd said it all, tonight there was going to be trouble.
Tapper and his friends Gibran and Derain had hijacked an innocent game of hide-and-seek. The older boys were now the catchers, the rest the reluctant runners. The youngest watched with fear as he flicked open the leather cover protecting his wrist-computer and started frantically tapping at the screen. Each key press sent a series of shivers through the gathering.
“Who wants to be first? Come on don’t be shy. I promise if you volunteer now we won’t hurt you,” then added in a whisper only heard by those stood near him, “well not too much, anyway.” Tapper searched the crowd but there were no takers.
“Oh well, I’ll just have to choose a victim myself,” Tapper gasped with fake annoyance. Carina caught sneers of satisfaction from Gibran and Derain as they failed to mask the anticipation of the thrill of a hunt and the flimsiest of excuses to harm their victims.
Tapper tapped the name of the child he had chosen into his wrist-computer and then searched the gathering for the next. Some cringed as they recoiled from the force of his piercing blue eyes. Tapper couldn’t really read minds but rumours that he could, spread by his two thuggish companions, made even the older teenagers careful what they thought. Carina watched her best friends mumble nursery rhymes as they tried to occupy their minds in a bid to escape Tapper’s extraordinary powers. Even if Tapper wasn’t telepathic perhaps it would mask their fear.
Wiping his long greasy hair from his face and shaking a grubby fist in the air Tapper demanded one final volunteer, but although the crowd fidgeted none were brave enough to step forward. As his fingers made circles his audience trembled. His hand came to rest and a big stubby finger pointed straight at a chosen child before giving them the ‘Tapper wink’. As he tapped the name into his computer their friends offered fake sympathy; they were secretly relieved that today was not their day to be chosen. Finally, when Tapper decided he’d gathered enough victims, he tapped the screen one last time.
Tapper’s wrist computer projected groups of bright fluorescent letters against the trunk of a gnarled old oak tree that had stood in the park for hundreds of years. Though she had expected it Carina still stared in shock as the dazzling pink characters spelling out her own name shone against the tree’s bark. That was bad enough but what frightened her more was seeing the name of her younger sister Heen immediately beneath her own.
Heen, a tomboyish ten year old and three years younger than Carina, stood a few steps away, but only by coincidence. Heen had little to do with her older sister, preferring to mix with her own friends. Huddled together, Heen and her friends were examining some beans that lay in the dirt covered hands of a scraggy boy whose back, arms and legs displayed a multi-coloured map of bruises inflicted over his ten short years by the three older boys. As he spoke he whistled through a large gap in his front teeth. No one was sure whether the teeth had fallen out naturally or if the bullies had assisted with their removal, and if anyone asked he wasn’t going to tell.
“What have you got there, Marac? Can we eat them?” quizzed a young girl.
“I found them in my uncle’s shed,” he boasted as he held up a small canvas bag marked with a black skull and crossbones and the word ‘DANGER’ written in bright red capital letters underneath.
“Is it alive?” asked another girl hesitantly.
“I bet it can they turn Tapper into a zombie,” quipped a red haired boy who covered his mouth in the hope only those close to him would hear.
“It’s too late for that! He already is,” whispered Heen.
The group’s giggling attracted Gibran’s attention.
“What are you lot sniggering about? I’ll teach you to show respect to your betters.”
Gibran a tall and stocky seventeen year old ran his fingers between his long gelled strands of hair and flexed his flabby arm muscles as he regarded the group. Marac’s brother Derain was parading himself like a peacock in front of Lexell, a blonde sixteen year old girl who was watching the unfolding events with interest. Marac hated the three older boys, but maybe now he had the means for revenge. Untying the bag he emptied a handful of the small black beans into his left palm before placing the rest carefully into his pocket. Sharing the beans between himself and his friends he stepped forward with five shiny red beans clenched in his tiny fist.
“Show me what you’ve got Marac,” bellowed Gibran. “Remember what you think is yours really belongs to your brother, Tapper and me.”
He made a grab for Marac’s fist. “Give it here you pond scum!”
Marac stepped back twisting his body from Gibran’s grasping hands. He ducked as Gibran punched and with a quick swing of a skinny arm he tossed the beans at his tormentor. As the beans hit flesh they exploded in a brilliant flash accompanied by a loud pop. Gibran shrieked in pain as his face started to burn. One arm covered his eyes while the other waved wildly in the air searching for Marac. A muted cheer ran through the crowd, but fell flat with the sight of Tapper’s disapproving stare. Coming to his friend’s aid Derain grabbed the nearest boy, tore a backpack from his shoulders, emptied its contents onto the ground, opened a bottle and splashed its contents over Gibran.
“Wow that was fantastic Marac. Where did you get those bombs?” Heen whispered as she slipped her share of the beans safely into her pocket. Marac was about to answer when Tapper and Derain grabbed him, pulled him to the ground and started covering his body with fresh bruises.
“You’re dead Marac!” Derain shouted as he pummelled hard at his younger brother’s back. Laughing loudly at the unexpected entertainment Tap
per noticed a single bean fall from Marac’s pocket. Searching the younger boy’s shorts he removed the canvas bag.
“OK Derain you can stop now, I know a suitable punishment for your little brother. Let’s see how he likes the taste of his own medicine.”
Tapper shoved all but one bean into Marac’s pocket. He stood over the young boy and kicked the pocket hard. Nothing happened. A further kick and Marac cried in agony. A third well placed kick produced an enormous flash, a loud crackle and a cloud of pungent smoke. Marac’s shorts burst into flames, he shouted with a mix of fright and pain as he fought to remove his burning clothes.
“Great dance,” his brother called. Then deliberately directing an icy stare towards Heen and the rest of Marac’s friends, added “would anyone else like to try?”
The bravest ran to help smother the flames as Marac lay on the ground groaning.
“Leave him alone. I’ve still got an unused bean for anyone who wants it,” Tapper held up the remaining bean between his fingers as the contents of flasks and bottles were poured onto Marac’s enflamed skin.
Reluctantly they shuffled away from the groaning boy.
“Remember Marac, you’d better not tell on me,” Tapper added as his icy eyes met Marac’s tears.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell dad that Marac accidently bashed his own pocket, and he’ll be mad he stole the bombs from Uncle Milton. Anyway, I’m forever getting Marac into trouble and dad always believes me. I bet he’ll be grounded for months,” smirked Derain.
Several children had used the distraction to head for home, but now found their way blocked by Gibran, still rubbing at his sore eyes.
Tapper sneered at the departing group, “I trust you’re not trying to leave.” He gazed down at his wrist-computer, his fingers hovering above the keyboard ready to type. “Anyone who goes home will get it triple next time!”
Those not quick or young enough to have escaped returned to the assembled mass hoping their faces would be lost amongst the crowd, but one boy, a classmate of Carina’s, stood his ground, swore and tried to push past Gibran. The seventeen year old grabbed the younger boy by his backpack and swung him around into the arms of Tapper and Derain. Grabbing him by the neck they punched, kicked and pushed him to the floor.
“Your name goes on the list too, Kuiper.” Gibran nodded at Tapper who with a few more taps to his wrist sent the boys’ name shining against the trunk of the old tree, almost lost in the branches at the top of the trunk. The bullies congratulated each other and together they shouted,
“Run, run as fast as you can,
You can’t escape from Tapper’s gang.
We’ll give you to the count of fifty five,
And then wherever you hide we’ll skin you alive.”
As the crowd scattered Carina took hold of Heen’s arm and tried to lead her from the catchers. Heen started to grumble, she didn’t want to be baby sat by her older sister, especially not with her friends watching. Furthermore she hated the thought of leaving Marac alone with the bullies; he still lay on the ground sobbing. Carina ignored Heen’s protests, she knew the danger if they stayed, and it was too risky to leave Heen with her friends. She had spied her sister slip some of the beans into her pocket, what if the older boys had seen it too? She had a bad feeling about tonight, they had to stick together.
“Come on Heen, I know a great hiding place where Tapper and his piggy mates will never find us.” She dragged her sister, still whinging, from immediate danger.
Carina had a place in mind. She had heard about it many times and occasionally seen it from afar, but she had never had the nerve to visit, and had been careful not to mention it to her friends. It might be dangerous, but she knew that they would be in trouble if they didn’t find a hiding-place soon.
Heen complained bitterly as she was forcibly dragged in between thickets of bracken stalks that grew high over their heads. Many of the stems were as thick as young trees, but with the dryness of summer and a push from a small hand they snapped easily. Carina kept glancing behind them to make sure no one was following but in the growing darkness it was difficult to see.
They hurried as fast as they could, but were hindered by their unsuccessful attempts at pushing the broken stems back into place in a futile attempt to cover their tracks. Occasionally the stalks grew so close together the fronds hid the sky above them blocking out the last hints of daylight and the first stars of night. At last it grew so dark under the vegetation that Carina became worried they might be moving in the wrong direction. Both she and Heen kept torches in their backpacks, but they couldn’t risk using them for fear their pursuers would see the lights and follow. At last the two girls stepped into a clearing leading down to the lasertram tracks.
“This is it Heen, follow me,” Carina allowed herself a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.
Chapter 2
The Tram
The sweltering summer days and the warm summer nights brought hundreds of children flocking to the town’s large open park. In earlier games that day Carina had counted more than four hundred runners dodging the catchers. As dusk approached those under five years old were called home to bed; this was the time for the game to become alive and exciting. Torches were pulled from backpacks, snacks were swapped and drinks were mixed, creating the strangest tasting fruit cocktails. Often the hiding places grew so crowded that the catchers found their prey within minutes and would demand bags of popcorn, sweets, cakes and drinks for their prize.
Today, with the older boys masquerading as the catchers, many had sneaked off early using the excuse that they must take their younger siblings home. With fewer runners the risk of being caught became much greater, but from experience they knew that if they could hide for long enough Tapper’s gang would grow bored and find other things to keep themselves amused. It was always difficult to evade the bullies, especially by those listed on Tapper’s wrist-computer, but Carina hoped that maybe today there would be one less catcher if Derain was too busy showing off in front of his new girlfriend Lexell. What was certain was the need to find a hiding place where no catcher would think to look.
Carina’s mind was filled with doubt. She knew she had to protect her sister, but wasn’t sure she could. Would it have been better to have stayed with the others, finding safety in numbers? The others would already be gathering into groups of seven or eight but not even that would protect them from the older boys. Those who had been chosen would inevitably find themselves alone. As soon as the bullies appeared their friends would find excuses why they were needed elsewhere and desert them in their time of need. It was tempting to take Heen home, but Carina knew from previous games that meant the bullying would be far worse in the future.
As they approached the lasertram tracks Carina grew nervous, to go on would break a promise, but to return meant certain capture and humiliation.
Despite the difficulty of crossing the undergrowth in the near darkness they had managed to keep to the right path. Grumbling words of encouragement to her still cantankerous little sister she led Heen between an eerie line of trees that stood like sentinels guarding the steep bank above the tram tracks.
Carina tried to hurry her sister along.
“Come on, Heen! Is that the sound of tapping I hear behind us? We have to find a hiding place now. Do you want to end up like Marac or Kuiper?”
Carina soon regretted reminding her sister about Marac’s fate. Heen froze unsure whether to follow her sister or turn and run back to her friend.
“Heen, please, there could be all sorts of dangerous creatures creeping around out here at night. Do you want a slemon to catch and eat you? Come on, let’s go!”
Heen dipped into her pocket and rubbed her beans reassuringly between her fingers. At least, she thought, she would give Tapper something to remember if he did decide to follow.
Carina led her sister up a grassy bank. On reaching the top they heard the honk of an approaching lasertram and stood waiting for
it to pass. Turning a corner its wheels squealed in protest as the driver applied the brakes. They stood and watched as the tram with its lower-deck packed full of people trundled by. Dangling from the top-deck chains of tiny multi-coloured holograms lit the scene advertising a multitude of goods from fizzy drinks to perfume. Weaving between the holograms were clouds of biting-insects celebrating the arrival of darkness. Above the lasertram two long poles extended skywards until they connected with the laser beams that ran parallel above the tracks, they supplied the power. Where the poles met the beam’s sparks spat into the air tossing bright green fireballs into the sky.
A sudden series of loud squawks made Carina’s body tremble. The treetops erupted with a flock of birds, disturbed by the lights fled from the tram. Unaffected by the commotion Heen waved her hands wildly at the passengers and the stern-looking driver. Beneath his long ginger beard and electric blue uniform was he asking what they were doing so near the tracks at this time of night? However the passengers returned the wave and the driver smiled and saluted her. After rounding a sharp bend the tram picked up speed and was soon lost from sight except for the sparks that flashed and crackled in the distant night air. Still angry and complaining the birds returned to their roosts.
“Why did you have to wave at them? If dad finds out we were here we’ll be in so much trouble,” Carina was beginning to lose patience with her sister.
Heen shrugged, “I didn’t recognise anyone, did you? Sometimes Carina you worry too much!” She laughed and ran to the other side of the bank towards the tracks.
“But that’s not the point Heen. We have to be careful...”
Carina called after her, but she could see her sister wasn’t listening. Cupping an ear to the air the only sounds Carina heard were the distant ‘toot’ from the tram now racing into the distance and a constant low hum coming from the tracks below. Strangely there were no bird or animal sounds. At dusk on a hot summer’s evening it was normal for chirping insects to fill the air with their chatter, but tonight there were none. Carina searched the tracks for any labourers or robots working nearby, but satisfied there would be no more interruptions she descended the bank after her sister.