The Bare Bum Gang and the Valley of Doom (8 page)

I'd been up in the tree for half an hour.
Half an hour is actually quite a long
time to spend in a tree, even if you find a
comfortable perch. Usually, when you go
up into a tree, it is to get something, such
as a ball that is stuck there, or perhaps
your trousers, which have been thrown
into the tree by a big bully, like Dockery.
You don't normally hang around. Hanging
around in trees is what you do if you're a
monkey or a squirrel, or some other tree
creature.

The tree I was in was exactly the same
old oak tree I'd mentioned in the letters to
Alfie and Dockery, in the deepest, darkest
part of the Valley of Doom, not far at all
from where we'd been ambushed. It was
quite an easy tree to climb, because it had
lots of branches near the ground. But I had
to go fairly high up to make sure I wouldn't
be seen (or heard or smelled, in case I let
out a little tummy squeak).

Normally I don't like being high up
in anything. It's not the heights I'm afraid
of, so much as falling from them and
smashing my head in. But I was on a
mission, and missions are no places for
scaredy cats.

So I gritted my teeth and climbed about
as high up in the tree as a medium sized
giraffe could reach. Giraffes can reach
even further than you'd think because their
tongues are as long as a killer python (or boa
constrictor). Not that giraffes use their
tongues for killing, unlike chameleons, and
possibly some aliens who have poisonous
tongues shaped like harpoons that they
use to paralyze you so they can eat you
comfortably later on, say when they're
watching telly or at a disco.

One of the main problems with trees is
that they don't have toilets in them, so when
you have to do a wee, you just have to
sprinkle it about, willy-nilly. Actually that's
quite good fun, although a bit dangerous,
because it's not easy to hold on properly and
wee willy-nilly at the same time.

I checked to make sure that the walkie-talkies
were working, and that the Gang
were still in place.

'Blue Baboon, can you hear me? Over.'

I should point out that 'Blue Baboon' was
the code name for Noah.

'Yes, I can hear you loud and clear, Ludo
– er, I mean Supreme Starfighter General.'

In case you haven't guessed, Supreme
Starfighter General was my code name.

'Don't forget to say "over" when you
finish. Over.'

'Sorry. Over.'

'Everyone in place? Over.'

'Yes, Supreme Starfighter General. Over.'

I think I heard some sniggering in the
background, but it might just have been the
wind in the leaves.

Noah's job had been to get the rest of
them to the correct position. They were
hiding in the high ground above the Valley
of Doom. Noah hadn't told the Gang the
whole plan. He hadn't even told them
what we suspected about the evil Alfie.
When you find stuff out for yourself, you
learn it much better than if someone just tells
you. That was the whole point of the plan
– to let my friends find out for themselves
how wrong they'd been.

I'd just finished my second wee (because
I was bored and wanted something to do,
not because I really needed one) when I
heard voices.

This was it.

This is what I'd been preparing for.

The great plan was beginning.

'I wonder what that little squirt wants,'
said a loud voice I recognized at once
as belonging to Dockery. I peered down
through the branches, and saw four kids.

'Why don't we just punch him and steal
his sweets?' said another voice.

'We had a deal, remember, and a deal's a
deal, even when it's with a weasel like Alfie.
Still, if I ever find out he's double-crossed us
again, then he gets it.'

'Gets what?'

Then I heard the sound of a fist thumping
into a palm, followed by laughter. They
were right underneath me now.

Then Dockery said, 'Is it raining?'

'Don't think so, why?' replied one of the
others.

'I thought I felt something drip on me.'

Whoops! That must have been the last of
the wee filtering down through the leaves.

Then another voice said, 'Here he comes
now. This better be good.'

It was time to get the equipment ready.
I'd already tied a long piece of string round
the aerial of my walkie-talkie, ready to lower
it down, so that it would pick up what was
said.

A walkie-talkie isn't like a phone – you
can talk or you can listen, but you can't
do both at the same time. To transmit
you have to hold down a button when you
speak. My plan was to fasten the button
down with sticky tape, so it transmitted
constantly. I got the tape out of
my pocket and wrapped it round lots
of times, so it looked like this:

The walkie-talkie was now transmitting,
and I hoped Noah could hear it. Very
carefully I lowered it down on its string.

'Hi,' came the weak, girlie voice of Alfie.

The others grunted at him. That was their
way of saying hello.

'What did you want to tell us, then?' said
Dockery.

'Me?' replied Alfie. 'I thought you wanted
to tell me something.'

'But you sent me a letter saying you had
some vital information about those dweebs
in the Bare Bum Gang.'

'No I didn't. You sent me a letter – I knew
it came from you because the spelling was
very poor. You said to meet you here.'

'No, it was you what wrote the letter. It
was on pink paper, just the sort you'd write
on.'

'I haven't even got any pink paper. My
paper is yellow.'

Well, that was all quite funny, but it
wasn't much use to me. I needed some more
incriminating evidence.

'I don't know what you're playing
at,' growled Dockery, 'but I do know it's
something sneaky. You spied for us and told
us that those stupid Bare Bum kids were
going to raid our den, but then you double-crossed
us. For all I know you've got some
other sly scheme up your sleeve.'

That was more like it!

'Just bash him,' said Larkin.

'Yeah, mash him,' said Furbank.

'No, please!' squealed Alfie. 'I'll tell you
all their other secrets. I'll tell you where
the traps are! I'll give you more sweets and
money!'

Perfect.

'It's too late for bribery. Wait a minute
– what's that?'

'What's what?'

'That dangly thing.'

'What dangly thing?'

'That dangly thing dangling there.'

It was then that I realized they were
talking about the walkie-talkie. I'd let it
dangle too low. Before I could pull it up,
Dockery grabbed the end and yanked. Of
course I could have let go, but my walkie-talkie
was my favourite toy, and I held onto
my end of the string.

You can guess what happened.

I lost my balance and began to fall out
of the tree.

They say that before you die your life
flashes before your eyes, but all that flashed
before my eyes were leaves. Actually, flashes
is probably the wrong word. The oak tree
was so thick with leaves and twigs and
branches that my fall was the slowest in
history. I slid and bumped and crunched
my way down until finally I found myself
on the ground in a pile of dry leaves.

I looked up into the astonished faces of
Alfie and the Dockery Gang. Before they
had time to recover from their surprise,
I snatched the walkie-talkie from
Dockery's hand, and yelled, 'NO AH,
ATTACK! ATTACK NOW! GIVE THEM
EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT!'

I just hoped that they had been listening,
and that Noah would understand what
had happened, and what he had to do. I
expected to hear them charging down the
slope to my rescue, just as I'd arranged with
Noah.

The group around me looked even more
startled than when I'd fallen out of the tree.
They glanced nervously into the bushes on
either side.

But there were no war cries from the Bare
Bum Gang; no charge, no rescue. I'd been
abandoned. Either the walkie-talkie hadn't
transmitted properly, or they hadn't heard it,
or they didn't believe it, or they didn't care.
My plan had failed.

Dockery laughed. 'Ha ha ha. What have
we got here? Little Ludo did a bit of spying
himself, did he? Hoping his friends might
come and save him? Looks like he hasn't
got any friends. Well, now you're going to
get what every spy gets.'

Then he turned and grabbed Alfie, who'd
been skulking out of the way, looking pretty
miserable. 'Now I see what you were up
to. In this together, eh? I never should
have trusted you. Well, you get the same
punishment.'

'What's that?' asked Larkin, almost panting
with pleasure.

'We dunk 'em!'

The Dockery Gang roared their
approval.

What he meant was that he was going to
throw us in the Great Grey-Green Greasy
Limpopo River. It wasn't very deep, but it
was muddy and yucky and full of slime and
all kinds of horrible creepy-crawlies and
leeches and eels, as well as the gnats and
mosquitoes and flies that buzzed over it.

A dunking in the stream was about as bad
as it could get. I tried to make a run for it,
but Dockery threw his huge arm round me,
and started shoving me and Alfie backwards
towards the edge of the stream. The others
formed a line in front of us.

'Well, Alfie,' I said, looking at him, 'we're
done for now. You see what happens when
you act like a sneak?'

He couldn't return my gaze, but just looked
down and shuffled backwards towards the
muddy stream, meekly accepting his fate.

And then I saw something that cheered
me up by about eight million per cent. The
Dockery Gang were facing us, shoving us
towards the stream. So I could see what was
happening behind them. And it was good.

Really good.