Roots led the way, feeling more unnerved by this stranger than by all the other agents put together. Somehow, he felt they wouldn’t shake this one off so easily.
“It’s dark!” cried Joe as he scrambled valiantly after Roots. “Don’t worry,” his big sister tried to reassure him, “Just keep going and we’ll be alright.” Secretly she was terrified, not so much by the darkness, but rather at the thought of touching any worms.
“Are we nearly there?” asked Miles, anxiously. “Hard to say, really,” Roots replied. “I’ve never been this far before. We might end up having to dig our way out.”
“You mean we’re trapped!” squeaked Odi, temporarily deserted by his usual aplomb.
“I wouldn’t say TRAPPED exactly,” said Roots. “More like….. buried. But never mind, we’re sure to come out somewhere.”
“Help, help, I’m suffocating!” yelled Odi, his chest heaving up and down.
“Hush up, Odi” said Miles, “you’re scaring everybody.”
“But I can’t breathe!” Odi was now really beginning to panic, gulping desperately for air.
From the rear, Laurel called out soothingly “Deep breaths, Odi! Deep breaths!”
“Not TOO deep, mind”, said Roots “You’ll use up all the oxygen.”
“Yes, very helpful, Roots.” Laurel murmured dryly. “Can’t you see I’m trying to calm him down?”
“All he has to do is stop gasping!” grumbled Alice, “Then everyone could calm down a bit.”
Poor Odi. His lungs hadn’t had so much exercise in years. Fortunately, just as they were fit for bursting, Roots cried out in triumph. “Light!”
“Thank goodness,” heaved Joe. “I was starting to get nervous.”
“One thing’s for sure, I’m glad I’m not a rabbit!” said Odi with feeling. “Give me a tower block anytime! Yes sir! Fifty levels up with a view of the Precinct, that’s where I want to be! From now on, I’ll wake up every morning saying ‘I’m glad I’m not a rabbit living down a hole’….. who wants to eat carrots anyhow?”
“Do you never stop talking?” Alice complained. “You’re even more annoying than my brothers and that’s saying something!”
“Hey, what’s up, Metal Mouth?” came the retort, “afraid of my magnetism?”
Alice pursed her lips angrily. Her brace was a particular sore point and Odi knew it.
“Heck, with those teeth you should feel at home down here!” he added.
“Odiiiiii!” Laurel intervened. “That wasn’t kind.”
“Well, maybe I’ll feel kinder when I’m out of this place!” Odi replied. “Come on, Roots man, let’s hit the ozone.”
Roots couldn’t hear him as he’d popped his head out from the tunnel and was carefully looking around. Satisfied the coast was clear, he pulled the rest of his lithe body to the surface and called to the others.
“All right folks, it’s safe now.”
One by one, the children emerged, finding themselves between the edge of the forest and acres of fields. The long grass swayed in the morning breeze, like ripples of a gentle sea with tiny yellow buttercups bobbing on the surface. In the distance was another band of trees to which Roots pointed.
“The canal’s behind there,” he said. “We’re a couple of miles short of it.”
“Well, I for one am not going back in that tunnel” said Odi, “No how, no way, no Sir!”
“We don’t have to.” Miles exclaimed. “We can crawl through the grass. It’s well high enough.”
“Good idea, Miles!” Roots congratulated him and was about to set off on all fours when, suddenly, he twitched.
“What’s the matter, Roots?” asked Joe.
“I don’t want to worry you,” the young man whispered “But…….. someone’s watching us.”
“Where?”, said Joe.
“I don’t know exactly,” Roots explained. “I just sense these things. And what I’m sensing now is enough to make your hair stand on end.”
Joe thought it would have to be something pretty scary to lift Roots’ dreadlocks. By the look of them, they must have weighed a good few kilos!
“Who is….?” Miles was about to speak, but Roots put a finger to his lips. “Hush!” he urged “just listen.”
For several moments, the small company kept absolutely still and silent. Then they heard it. A faint roar coming from the forest. And the sound of harsh voices as a battalion of feet marched remorselessly towards them.
“There they are!” a trench-coated figure sprung from nowhere. “Get them!”
There was nothing else for it. Roots, Laurel and the children ran headlong into the grass.
“Split up!” cried Roots “that way some of us might have a chance.” He turned briefly and pulled out his catapult, thinking he could stave off their pursuers, but after one look at the numbers involved, he changed his mind. Running really was their only option.
“Run! Run! And don’t look back for anything!”
Joe, Miles and Odi stuck together, charging desperately down the middle of the field, while Alice and Laurel chose the furthest course until they were all halfway to the trees beyond.
“Now duck!” yelled Roots. “Zig zag – and whatever you do, keep going!”
By the time their pursuers emerged from the forest, the children had disappeared and were crawling frantically through the grass like clockwork spiders.
“Drat, we’ll never find them now!” said one of the men. “We’ll have to gas them out.”
“Fire into the centre!” came another command, and immediately, a missile went singing through the air, landing just a few feet short of the boys. Within seconds, a giant flume of smoke threatened to engulf them, but, by some miracle, the wind changed, blowing the tear-gas back towards the men who’d fired it.
It also provided a screen between hunters and prey. Realising this, Roots yelled to the others “Get up and run! They can’t see us now. Just run, run for your lives and we’ll meet at the bridge!”
Their pursuers realised it too, and several started pounding through the field aiming to head off the children at the other side of the field. To avoid any ill effects from the gas, each of these men had pulled on gas masks, which made them look, if possible, even scarier.
Just as well the youngsters had taken Roots’ advice and kept on running without looking back. If Odi had been breathless in the tunnel, he now felt as though his lungs were turning inside out with all the air sucked out of them. But, this time, he didn’t complain. Like Miles and Joe, he simply willed his legs to keep on turning, even though his knees had turned to jelly and his calves were screaming.
At last, they hit the trees. “I can’t go any further!” wailed Alice.
Laurel pulled the girl to her feet. “You must! Here, hold my hand.”
“There’s the bridge!” cried Miles, and all six runaways merged towards it but, as they did, three of the men in macs caught sight of them and renewed the chase while shouting into their special radios.
One of them got so close to Joe in fact, he almost grabbed him, but with one tremendous leap, the boy hit the bridge just behind the others and, before he knew it, was being whisked off onto the opposite bank of the canal by Roots.
Almost crowing, the men in macs followed the children onto the bridge, only to find themselves pitched into the water! It was a swing-bridge, which Roots had shoved so forcibly, it started spinning, causing the agents to lose their balance. They came up, spluttering for air, just in time to watch the children and their friends go hurtling down the towpath.
After half an hour or so, Roots stopped, and Laurel and the children flung themselves onto the grassy verge groaning with fatigue. “Have we lost them?” asked Miles when he’d recovered enough breath to speak.
“I should think so,” replied Roots. “We’ve been running for miles.”
“Hey, bet we’ve broken a record!” Odi piped up, beginning to feel more cheerful “How fast did we go then? 50 miles an hour? 100? We must be bionic, Man!”
“We certainly got the wind up!” Roots chuckled. “Who says beans aren’t good for you!”
They all laughed, more with relief than anything. For several minutes, they rolled around helplessly, holding their sides. Until Roots twitched again. No one noticed at first, and then he stood up, his face ashen, his mouth trembling.
Just ahead of them, leaning on the railings of a bridge, which took the main road over the canal, was a tall, impressive figure, his features partly hidden by shades. The man waved nonchalantly and stood silently gazing down at them.
“He’s one of them!” gasped Miles. “What do we do?”
“Well,” said Roots, “we can’t go back the way we came, because there’s another hundred of them. I vote we make a run for it. Under the bridge and hell for leather until we find somewhere to hide! Okay, let’s go!” And they all set off again, as though sprinting for Britain.
The man on the bridge watched them dart underneath him, then, almost casually, he strolled down the steps to the towpath and set off in pursuit.
“Is he coming after us?” asked Joe, anxiously.
“Just keep running, Joe!” Roots urged, but Odi couldn’t resist a backward peek.
“He’s coming alright!” he said. “Is he catching up?” said Alice. “Heck no!” Odi replied, “that guy’s too cool to run!” Sure enough, Bevis had barely accelerated. Even when prey disappeared around a bend, he kept his pace to a confident stride, his long leather coat trailing obediently.
Roots led the way, feeling more unnerved by this stranger than by all the other agents put together. Somehow, he felt they wouldn’t shake this one off so easily. How right he was. No matter how fast they ran, or how far they got, they had only to glance behind them to see the sinister figure advancing on them purposefully.
Were things not bad enough, Roots’ knee began to play up again, having barely recovered from its kicking by the nuns, until, eventually, all he could do was hop. “Leave me!” he cried “Run on ahead.” But nobody would hear of it, especially not Joe.
Then Miles had a brilliant idea. “See those reeds up ahead?” he hissed “Grab one each and follow me!” Checking to see the man was out of sight, they all did as Miles suggested. “Now quickly everybody! Let’s get to where the canal widens.” He remembered cycling along this very same path with Joe and his father the previous summer and was fairly sure the next bend would bring them to some weeping willows.
As soon as they reached these elegant trees, Miles waded waist deep into the water and gestured for his companions to do the same. Once concealed behind an overhanging willow, they all sank into the water and used their reeds like snorkels in order to breathe.
Seconds later, Bevis appeared, still walking, still confident. He carried on past the children’s hiding place and, for a moment, it seemed they’d got away with it. Yet, a few yards further down the path, the man stopped, his eyes narrowing quizzically. Then he turned, noticed the willows, and a small smile played on his lips. Slowly, deliberately, he took off his coat and expensive leather shoes, waded across the canal to where Miles was submerged…….. and placed a finger over his reed.
The sudden cut in his air supply brought Miles spluttering to the surface, only to come face to face with Bevis. Grinning, the man grabbed Miles by the hair before slowly removing his shades.
“Hello Sasquatch!” he said, “Fancy meeting you!”