ISOF (15 page)

‘Sweet dreams fellas,' chuckled the Cutter, as the door swung open hitting the framework with a dull thud. ‘Up you go and don't make any noise, we wouldn't want the beasts missing any of their beauty sleep would we?'

The Cutter continued to chuckle at his own joke as the door of the caravan returned to its original position. Inside the caravan nobody dared to move in the darkness. Each was fearful of what else might be lurking in the brooding blackness. The stillness and the silence seemed to reassure the three members of the group that they were alone, very alone. Ben gave a deep sigh.

‘This is awfully familiar.'

‘What's familiar?' asked Trep in a hoarse whisper.

‘The darkness,' replied Ben. He sniffed loudly. ‘And the smell,' he added.

Trep grinned in the darkness.

‘And there's something else that's familiar too,' he replied.

‘What's that?' hissed Ben.

‘You complaining,'

Before Ben could make any response, Noj hit the caravan wall with his fist.

‘For goodness sake, you two,' he growled. ‘Can't you have a conversation without it disintegrating into a slanging match?'

‘Don't lose your rag with me,' muttered Ben. ‘It's Trep's mouth that needs a gag, not mine.'

Trep kicked out at Ben but only succeeded in striking Noj's foot.

‘Do that again,' winced Noj, ‘and I'll insert that walking stick of yours where daylight fails to fall.'

Trep mumbled something that could have been either abusive or an apology. Whichever it might have been, Noj chose to ignore it.

‘Ahem,' coughed Ben, desperately trying to calm things down. ‘Not only is that a tricky manoeuvre, but virtually impossible without a walking stick.'

‘That's a thought,' answered Noj, rubbing his foot. ‘I think they're possibly still in the tent where the Cutters left them.'

‘That's saved you a job,' muttered Trep with a forced smile.

Trep was spared a reply when the door of the caravan suddenly burst open and a body was crudely thrown onto the straw strewn floor. An explosion of breath shattered the silence. Noj quickly moved over to where the body lay in a winded heap.

‘Are you alright?' he asked. A series of gasps punctuated by straining lungs sounded in reply to his question. Slowly the body sat upright and continued its struggle to achieve any form of breathing rhythm. After what seemed like an age, with everyone in the caravan wrestling with their own irregular breathing pattern, the body raised its head.

‘I'm as well as can be expected,' wheezed Mak, forcing a weak smile.

Noj picked at the dirty straw that littered the floor of the caravan. He cleared his throat and spoke into the gloom.

‘Did it do any good?' he asked.

‘Not really,' sniffed Mak.

‘Told you it was a complete waste of time,' muttered Noj in return.

‘At least I tried to do something,' growled Mak. ‘Unlike some who just seem content to let things happen.'

Noj turned to face Mak's voice. He was finding it difficult to contain his anger as he flexed his fingers repeatedly. ‘I'll do something when doing something is the right thing to do,' he replied angrily. ‘Thinking you'd get anything out of the Cutters was a real no-brainer.'

‘So,' spluttered Mak. ‘What are you trying to say?'

It was impossible in the gloom of the caravan to see Noj's face to see what he really thought. Instead, his laboured breathing spoke volumes.

‘I'm saying,' said Noj steadily. ‘That if we put our energy into working out how to escape rather than wasting our time negotiating with those intellectual duffers then…'

A low-pitched groan engulfed the remaining words as the floor of the caravan shuddered. The floor was still trembling as a pair of rust-covered hinges squealed their reluctance to move before finally yielding to a lower force. To the surprise of the caravan's captives, a grey gloom partially illuminated their darkness as a section of the floor arced through the air, falling backwards, making an impression on Mak's shin.

‘Aarrgh!' he squealed holding his shin tightly in the vain hope of stopping the pain spreading.

‘Sssh,' hissed a voice. ‘You'll have every Cutter for miles coming to see what the commotion is all about.'

Through the pale halo of grey light, a head-shaped object appeared.

‘Are you alright?' it asked. The question was met with three intakes of breath and one moaning whimper. Ben, shuffling himself backwards until he was firmly lodged against the caravan wall, swallowed to moisten a fear-dried throat.

Who are you?' he asked hoarsely.

‘It's me, Alpak,' she answered with a slight sigh. ‘I really made an impression didn't I?'

Three relieved sighs and a slightly pleased whimper greeted the answer.

‘Well come on then,' urged Alpak. ‘You may have all night be I've still got jobs to do, which will be the least of my worries if I get caught helping you escape.' She peered into the darkness of the caravan. ‘Coming? and, without waiting for an answer withdrew from sight.

Mak quickly edged his way towards the gap in the floor.

‘The injured first, ‘he said firmly. ‘Besides, I'm a lot smaller than any of you and I've no wish to be trapped in here if one of you has difficulty forcing their stomach through the hole.'

Without waiting for any objections or comments, Mak slithered feet first through the hole and disappeared.

‘Quickly then,' said Noj, taking control of the situation. ‘Trep, you're next, then Ben and I'll follow last.'

Ben felt along the floor of the caravan for the hole to freedom. After scrabbling about for a few seconds his hands came into contact with what felt suspiciously like a pair of feet pointing towards the caravan roof.

‘Oi! Give me a push, I'm stuck,' whispered Trep urgently waving his feet in the air.

Ben made several desperate attempts to grab hold of Trep's feet but failed each time to catch the continuously moving objects. With a sudden spark of inspiration Ben jabbed a finger into Trep's thigh, which was wedged firmly in the wooden opening.

‘Ouch!' exclaimed a muffled Trep whose feet had momentarily stopped dancing in the air. Seizing the moment, and Trep's feet, Ben arched his body over the obstruction and leaned heavily downwards. For a couple of seconds nothing happened then, without warning, Ben's chin made contact with the wooden floor as a dull ‘
thump
' and a
‘gasp'
sounded from below.

‘Get on with it,' ordered Noj as Ben lay over the hole nursing a bruised chin. Bracing himself with his elbows, Ben lowered his feet swung into the hole until they made contact with something reassuringly soft. Shifting his elbows carefully, Ben allowed himself to drop through the gap and land on the soft mound below.

Trep had hardly formed a word of complaint about being used as a cushion before Noj landed heavily on him too. Groaning loudly and, with his arms embracing his stomach, Trep rolled sideways towards the relative safety of the caravan's wheels.

‘Thanks Alpak,' whispered Noj, as he clambered from under the caravan. ‘That was very thoughtful of you putting a cushion down for us to drop onto.'

‘Nrrgggh,' grunted Trep from the shadows.

Noj squinted, trying to adjust his eyes to the lesser gloom of the night. ‘Come out, come out wherever you are!' he chuckled quietly.

Trep, crawling out from under the caravan, sat against a wheel and rubbed gently at his stomach.

‘Thanks a bunch folks,' he groaned. ‘Anytime you need someone to cushion your fall, don't give me a shout.'

The group tried desperately to stifle their laughter. Noj was the first to bring his mouth under control. He turned to Alpak.

‘Why have you put yourself at risk to help us?' he whispered. ‘What do you know of us and where we're going?'

‘I've no wish to see anyone become slaves to the whims of the Cutters, or anyone else for that matter.'

Mak prodded Alpak's shoulder and nodded at the caravan.

‘This is all a little bit too convenient for my liking,' he said. ‘How do we know you're not working for the Cutters eh?' he asked tetchily. ‘Perhaps you just want to find out what we're up to so that you can inform your masters?'

Alpak roughly brushed Mak's finger away.

‘How dare you insult a Shun,' she replied angrily. ‘We are an upright race.'

‘Oh yeah,' said Mak. ‘Are you sure you can stand on your own two feet … oof!' Mak's breath exploded from his mouth as he felt the full force of Alpak's head as it buried itself into his stomach. In an instant Trep had taken hold of Alpak's waist and pulled her away from Mak. At the same time, Noj had gripped Mak's arms to prevent any retaliation.

‘That's enough, both of you,' hissed Noj. ‘Alpak, I'm sorry if we appear ungrateful. It's just that we are supposed to be on a journey that's important, but we don't fully understand why it's important or, more to the point, who we can trust.'

Alpak shrugged.

‘Suit yourself,' she snarled, tugging at the small cloak that almost covered her upper body. ‘And to think, I could have been wrapped up in a warm bed rather than wasting my time on a cold night.'

Noj released his grip on Mak but kept a warning hand on his shoulder.

‘I'm sure we're all very grateful,' he said giving Mak's shoulder a hard squeeze. ‘But you can appreciate we're a little suspicious of everyone and everything at the moment.'

Alpak smiled in the darkness, her teeth reflecting the moon's hue.

‘I understand, almost,' she replied. ‘It would be good if you started to make your move now, while everywhere is still in darkness.'

Cautiously the group began to edge away from the caravan, each of them staring hard at the shadows and glancing anxiously over their shoulders. Barely had they moved beyond the circle of caravans when a dull beeping stopped them instantly in their tracks. In a panic, the group spun around searching for the source of the disturbing noise. Within seconds it became obvious that the incessant beeping emanated from Ben. Wrestling him to the ground, Noj, Mak and Trep desperately tried to smother every part of Ben.

‘Mmmph. Ow! Gerrof,' burbled Ben through a fence of fingers. Arching his body and kicking out desperately with his feet, Ben struggled to free himself. A voice whispered urgently in his ear.

‘Keep still for goodness sake,' urged Alpak.

Ben allowed his feet to rest as he thought about sinking his teeth into any fingers within biting distance. With a grunt from Noj, the trio slowly released their grip of Ben's head.

‘What do you think you're doing?' spat Ben wiping away the taste of captivity.

Mak, who was sitting on Ben's chest, put a voice to everyone's thoughts.

‘Why were you making that noise, were you trying to raise the alarm?' he hissed.

‘I wasn't warning to anyone,' snapped Ben too loudly. He wriggled an arm free and began rummaging inside his cloak. Unfortunately, his actions provoked an instant response.

Grabbing Ben's wrist, Mak tried to wrestle free the beeping object.

‘Help me then,' he hissed at the others.

A few seconds later and Noj was staring at a small round object that sat in the palm of his hand. The beeping was now becoming a dull, monotonous noise that hardly troubled the hearing of the assembled group. Ben, now free of Mak's weight on his chest, sat miserably watching the others peer at the object.

With the object firmly in his grip, Noj thrust it at Ben.

‘What is it then, if it's not an alarm?' he asked coldly.

‘Well, it is an alarm of sorts,' began Ben.

‘So,' growled Trep, ‘you admit it is an alarm and you were trying to warn somebody.'

Ben breathed noisily through his teeth.

‘It was an accident,' he seethed. ‘It's what's left of my digital watch after I broke the strap ages ago. I forgot it was in my shirt pocket.'

‘A digi what?' asked Trep.

‘Watch,' replied Ben. ‘It's a digital watch. Tells the time and has an alarm function that beeps.'

‘And we're supposed to believe that,' questioned Mak. ‘You're trouble and make no mistake.'

Ben was just about to put voice to his anger when Alpak raised a warning finger to his lips.

‘Cutters,' she warned.

Once more Ben found himself crushed beneath the weight of his fellow travellers, the dark mound of bodies that could easily mistaken for a wildly disfigured bush in the dark. A moment later two large Cutters appeared next to the caravan, which had until very recently, been their prison. One of the Cutters rattled the large lock on the door.

‘Seems OK,' grunted one of the Cutters.

‘Well, I definitely heard things,' replied the other Cutter gruffly. ‘And it ain't because I've been drinking too much juice either,' he complained. ‘More's the pity.'

Satisfied that the caravan lock was still performing its function, the first Cutter nodded towards the main camp.

‘Let's be getting back,' he suggested. ‘Must be those damnable dragons again. Nothing but trouble them things.'

The two Cutters melted back into the darkness leaving the mound of bodies to breath a sigh of relief. Alpak bent down to the prostrate form of Ben and stroked his forehead.

‘I don't think any of us understand what it is you refer to. But I trust you.' She looked sternly at the others. ‘And that should be good enough for all of you.'

Ben slowly got to his knees and began to rearrange his clothing.

‘See,' hissed Mak. ‘I told you it was a signal.'

Ignoring Mak's accusation, Ben nodded at Noj.

‘Can I have my watch back now?' he asked.

Noj looked at the object in his hand, which had now stopped its incessant noise and lay silent. He held out his hand.

‘Whatever it was doing it's stopped now,' he said, as Ben took the watch.

Looking first at Noj and then at the watch, Ben inclined his head in thanks.

‘Is it broken?' enquired Alpak, her eyes searching Ben's face.

Ben shrugged.

It's OK,' he replied. ‘The strap had broken ages ago, so I just kept the watch in my pocket.' He looked angrily at the others. ‘Out of sight!' growled Ben.

‘But not out of hearing!' snorted Mak.

Ben felt Alpak's hand upon his arm.

‘Let me see,' she said, attempting to distract Ben from Mak's jibe. ‘I may be able to repair your bracelet.'