Piggies (11 page)

Rachel closed the door and he leaned on it, struggling to calm himself, breathing the fresh evening air deeply. “You should let them all out,” he said.

“You saw them,” she said. “They don’t have a clue. They wouldn’t know what to do if we turned them out. All they’ve ever known is the inside of a barn. They’re bred for it. Set them loose and any that weren’t hunted down inside a couple of hours would just die.”

She was right, he knew. It was all so cruel and wrong, yet what could he do to change it? There must be so many piggeries like this one. What could any one person do?

“They shouldn’t be kept like that,” said Ben.

“I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry, Piggy. Everything’s gone wrong and it’s all my fault.”

Ben tipped his head back, despite the pain in his neck. He stared at the stars. He didn’t know what to say.

“He used me,” Rachel said. “My father. I don’t know how long he’s known about you, but he hid it from me so he could use me.”

“Use you to catch me,” said Ben. “Taste my blood, read my memories so he can find out about the ferals.”

She peered across at him, and he could see that she was crying again. “You’re right,” she said. “Your friends are in danger. I listened in on Dad this evening. He’s been calling the families together so that they can round up the ferals. I heard what’s behind all this, too. There have been ferals in the woods for years and nobody’s ever really been bothered. They raid the farms sometimes, and they steal crops from the fields, but they never do much damage. Sometimes one gets caught or shot, and sometimes a few are trapped and we put them in the piggeries to add a bit of variety to the breeding stock. That’s just the way things are.”

“So what’s different now? Why’s your dad so keen to round us up?”

“Someone’s been smuggling,” she said. “Ferals. They’ve been smuggling and Dad wants to put an end to it.”

“Smuggling what?” But even as he spoke, all the pieces were slotting into place and he knew the terrible answer to his own question. He remembered Zeb telling him about the trade with some of the families. He remembered that night when Zeb had come back with a split lip. They had been rustling, he’d said – the livestock had been hard to handle, had put up a bit of a fight.

People. Was that it? The “livestock”?

She saw the look of understanding on his face and nodded. “They’ve been smuggling wild pigs... people. It started up a few years ago. Undermining the farms with an alternative supply of wild blood. Not much. But any new varieties are worth a lot of money. Nobody knew where it was coming from until you told me your story and Dad read it in my blood. Piggy, someone’s worked out how to open a way from other worlds into this one and they’ve been using it to smuggle people like you through. And now Dad knows the ferals have been dealing with the Felson family! And trying to get guns... The families won’t allow that to happen.”

The more Ben thought about her words, the more everything fell into place.

He must have slipped through their grip. Something must have gone wrong as he was plucked from his own world. Maybe they’d been interrupted, the disturbance allowing him to wander free.

The ferals of the community. He couldn’t believe that they all knew what was going on. But Alik... He could believe it of Alik. Trading humans for protection. That must be why he was so hostile towards Ben: he had recognised that his story was true and that Ben’s very presence threatened his trade.

But what of the others? Of Walter, Anna and Old Harold? Of Zeb, Rose-Marie, Rick and Adam ... surely these people were not involved?

“Has your father gone yet?”

She nodded.

“When?”

“About fifteen minutes ago. That was the first time I had a chance to slip out. I came down here as soon as the coast was clear. I had to see if you were okay, Piggy. It’s all my fault.”

“I have to warn them,” said Ben. “I have to get back out there and warn them before it’s too late.”

He pushed himself away from the support of the barn door.

“We could go together,” she said. “You’re still weak. It’d take you ages to get there. We could saddle up Champion. Dad and the others have gone in four-wheel drives. They have to go round by one of the old quarry roads to get into the heart of the woods. That’s what they said. If we head along Foxglove Ride we’ll have a head start. You can give me directions after that. I want to help.”

Ben took her hand and they crossed the small yard.

He was weaker than he had thought.

He leaned on the stable wall while Rachel went in and prepared her pony. His head was spinning, his heart racing.

“Come in here, Piggy,” she said after a few long minutes.

He pushed himself upright and walked slowly inside.

Rachel was sitting in the saddle already. “Come on,” she said. “There’s a mounting block we use for children when they come for riding lessons. Just over here. Come on. Climb up.”

She leaned over and took his hand. “That’s it. Now hold on to me and swing your leg over.”

He took a deep breath and lifted his leg.

She caught his foot and guided it over and he slid into the small space in the saddle behind her.

“Hold on,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her back.

They headed out into the darkness at a slow walk.

He had to concentrate. He had to keep his balance and not give in to the dizziness that threatened to overcome him. He felt close to fainting.

They headed along the track towards Weeley Woods.

17 Smugglers

He heard the call. An animal sound, but made by no animal. It was the lookouts’ alarm cry, a warning that there were vampires near the community.

For a moment, Ben thought they must be too late, that Rachel’s father had beaten them there.

But no: there were no gunshots, no sounds of engines, or other disturbance. Just the warning call.

And then he realised: they had spotted him and Rachel. That was why the alarm was being raised.

~

The alarm changed to an insistent, double note.

Ben could imagine the well-rehearsed drill, the ferals following secret routes into the woods where they would hide until the danger had passed.

But he knew the danger would not pass on this night. This was only the beginning.

“Are you sure?” Rachel said, yet again. The track through a thick barrier of bramble appeared to be coming to a dead end, but Ben knew that was a clever illusion. Only when you reached the end would you see a small opening, a gap you could pass through.

“Keep going,” he said. “The way to the community is disguised.”

She dismounted, leaving Ben to cling uncertainly to the saddle as she led Champion on through the narrow path.

When they emerged in the clearing, there was nothing to be seen. It was a moonlit night, but the dark shapes of the shelters were lost in the heaped brambles and ivy that had been grown to disguise them.

There was no sign of movement. No sign that anyone had ever lived here.

Ben slid from the saddle and Rachel just managed to catch him as he staggered on landing.

“Walter,” he called. “Walter. It’s me: Ben. Please come back, Walter. They’re coming. I have to warn you: they’re coming!”

He was talking to an empty clearing. Wasting his time. They were probably out of earshot already.

And then there was movement.

A figure appeared from the trees. Walter. He was followed by two more: the brothers, Rick and Adam.

Walter approached Ben and Rachel, and the boys hung back a short distance.

“What’s going on?” Walter demanded in a low voice. “What have you brought one of them here for?”

“I had to warn you,” said Ben. He felt dizzy again. Exhausted by the ride. “I was caught. They drank my blood. They know about this place. They know what Alik’s been doing. They’re coming... I had to warn you... I had to...”

He hit the ground with a thud.

When he came round, Walter was shaking him gently.

“It’s true,” Ben heard Rachel saying. “They’re coming here. The local families. Coming along the old quarry road.”

“The quarry?” said Walter urgently. “You’re sure about that?”

Ben sat up and saw Rachel nodding.

Walter turned to the two brothers. “Rick, Adam,” he said. “You get out there and warn the others, okay? Get them out of there.”

“What’s going on?” said Ben. “What’s so special about the quarry?”

“Zeb’s there,” said Walter. “And some of the others. That’s where they meet the trading families. The beasts.” He almost spat the word out, staring at Rachel.

“Do you know what they trade?” asked Ben steadily.

Walter looked at him curiously. “Anything and everything,” he said. “Anything we forage that we can’t use in the woods.”

“They trade people,” said Ben softly. “My story was true. I’m not from this world. People from my world... probably from other worlds, too, are smuggled here and traded with the beasts. People for protection, that’s the deal.”

Walter shook his head. “That’s not true,” he said. “I don’t believe you.”

“It started about three or four years ago,” said Rachel. “New varieties of wild blood, put on the market by families that didn’t even keep ... didn’t have piggeries.”

Walter’s expression had changed. “Alik was seriously ill about five years ago,” he said. “Fevers, delirium. He was hallucinating. Hallucinating about other worlds. He’s never been the same since.”

“Old Harold says that some people are sensitive to the places where worlds come close together,” said Ben. The passageways must have existed for a long time – Old Harold was evidence of that – but the traders had only been using them in recent years. “Alik must be sensitive. Maybe it was triggered by his illness. Or maybe his illness was triggered by the worlds somehow coming closer together...”

“You think he can control this thing? You think he can open up passages between worlds?”

“Either that, or he can sense when breaches are about to open up and he’s learnt how to exploit them.”

“Madness,” said Walter. “It’s all madness.”

But Ben could see the doubts in the man’s eyes.

~

Ben insisted on going with them. Walter helped him up on to Champion’s back and then he and Rachel led the pony along a well-used trail that led to the old quarry.

Soon, they could hear people up ahead. Ben recognised the voices of Rick and Adam, and Robby, shouting at them. Others, too.

The trees retreated from either side of the path and they emerged on a track that cut down across one of the faces of the old workings.

There were people down there, arguing.

And one man, standing apart, oblivious to the disturbance.

It was Alik, standing with his arms spread, his head bowed. He was facing the cliff-wall and then Ben saw what was taking up his attention.

The rocky wall flickered and shimmered, as if Ben was looking at it through a heat haze.

It was there, but it
wasn’t
there. It was somewhere else. Some world else.

An opening between worlds... just as Old Harold had said.

Old Harold, who so long ago had given up believing that it could be true...

“That’s it,” Ben gasped. “That’s the way through.” But through to where?

Walter had left them.

He had seen Zeb and he had marched across and seized the tall young man’s arm.

“Even you!” cried Walter. “Even you, my own son, are involved in this!”

Zeb tried to shake free of his father’s grip, but he couldn’t. “It’s survival,” he said. “Just like you always taught me. Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, just to survive. That’s all we’ve been doing.”

Ben slid down from the horse. He went across to Walter and Zeb. “You knew all along, didn’t you?” he said to Zeb. His voice was low and weak but it seemed to cut through the chaos. “You knew my story was true – that’s why you stuck with me. You weren’t trying to help me. You were trying to see how much I knew about what was going on!”

Zeb wouldn’t meet his look. “It wasn’t like that,” he said. “You must have come through by chance. I didn’t know for sure. And then we found you and talked to you and ... you’re just like us!”

When they traded people they must have blinded themselves to the fact that it was people they were rustling, and not just “livestock”.

“You don’t think I felt guilty?” asked Zeb.

Ben waved a hand around the people gathered in the quarry. “And did it stop you?”

“We have to carry on,” said Zeb. “We need the protection.”

“You’re just the same as them,” said Ben. “Just as bad as Rachel’s father.”

“All this time!” said Walter, into a slight pause. “All this time you knew that there was another world, a
safe
world, and you kept it secret!”

Robby butted in, then. “Sure,” he said. “There are other worlds – some far worse than this! You think they wouldn’t hunt us down there? You think we could just settle in un-noticed? We don’t belong there. At least we’ve had protection here. At least the trade has bought us protection, old man. If it wasn’t for the likes of us, the community would have been wiped out years ago!”

“Are you sure about that?” asked Walter. “Are you really sure that there was no alternative?”

For a moment there was silence, as if everyone was letting this sink in. Ben looked around. A lot of the woodlanders were here: either they had been here already with Alik or they had followed Walter and Ben. It was as if they had all felt the need to stay close together tonight.

And now they were all in danger.

There was a roar of engines from the road, the crunch of tyres on the loose, stony surface.

“They’re coming!” called Ben. “Can’t you hear? They’re coming.”

He turned to the shimmering rock wall. Alik seemed oblivious to what was going on around him. Whatever he was doing – holding the passageway open or simply responding to its presence – seemed to be taking up all his concentration.

Ben stared at the flickering, distorting surface. Where did it lead to?

He looked at Alik. “You can see through, can’t you? You can see into the next world.”

Just for an instant, his words seemed to get through to the man. “The worlds are close,” he gasped. “Yours... mine... but not for long...”

Alik was offering them the chance to escape. But what about the piggeries? What about the woodlanders who weren’t here in the quarry? Old Harold was probably still in his tree-house – what about him?

They had to act, and they had to do it now. They had this chance and it might be their only one.

Ben turned to Rachel.

“Thank you,” he said. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”

She shrugged. “I got half the blood sucked from your body, didn’t I? I got you locked up with all the other piggies. Sure,” she said. “You’ll remember me, all right.”

He stepped forward and hugged her. “I don’t mean that,” he said. “I’ll remember the good things.”

He released her and turned towards the passageway. “Come on,” he called to the others. “This is our only chance.”

Close to, he could feel the intense energy of the opening. He looked back. They didn’t have long.

The others were staring at him. They had stopped arguing and fighting. They were scared.

“Come on,” said Ben. He waved a hand towards the quarry entrance. “They’re coming.”

Five or six big cars had stopped at the chained-up gate. Figures had emerged, picked out by the vehicles’ headlights.

Already, they were scrambling over the gate. Ben saw a sudden glint of dark metal. They were carrying guns.

“Come on!”

And then another voice said, “Go on! Do as he says!”

It was Alik. He was shaking, tears running down his face.

They took no more persuading. First Walter, then Zeb and the others approached Ben. One by one, they stepped into the shimmering rock face and vanished.

Ben was the last to go.

“Go,” hissed Alik. “Tell them I’m sorry. Tell them I was only trying to protect them.”

The beasts were almost upon him.

Ben stepped through the rock face.

~

Suddenly, the air was sucked from his lungs and he felt powerful forces tugging at his limbs. He twisted and turned, fighting the pressure. He felt as if he was in mid-air, spinning.

He cried out...

~

...and landed in a heap on the ground.

He was confused, muddled, his head spinning.

Everywhere was wet and he’d landed in the mud. It was raining.

He rolled over, lay back, let the rain soak him through. It felt good.

He was home. At last, he had made it back to his own world.