The Warrior Sheep Go West (5 page)

Sandstorm

Everyone agreed: deserts were rubbish.

“First we get fried,” complained Jaycey, “then we get flooded. Now we're getting frozen.” She counted on her hooves. “That's three Fs all in one day, Sal, and only
one
of them was in the prophecy.” She nibbled fretfully at her once-beautiful fleece. “Just look at my ends. I feel like a moldy haystack. And you,” she said to Oxo, trying to shove him away as he settled closer beside her, “smell like one.”

On her other flank, Links gave her a nudge.

“O' course we's gonna smell, if we's been in the river,

'Cause we is fleeced up, man, but it helps us not to shiver.

Would you rather be an ovine?

Or a human with no wool?

'Cause they is
really
cold, man, and not just

Sheeply cool.”

He nodded at Cameron and Phoenix. Their shirts and jeans still damp, the boys had snuggled close to the sheep as the sun had set and the temperature plummeted. Finally, the sheep had formed a complete ring around them, a warm woolly nest, and they were both asleep.

“Like lambs,” cooed Sal. “Strange they're not in the prophecy.”

“There's a lot of things not in the prophecy, eh,” said Links. “Like Jaycey says. Starving's another one, 'cept it don't begin with F.”

“And Fort Wilmot and Las Vegas and Aries End…” said Wills.

“The reason Aries End is not in the prophecy, dear,” said Sal, “is that Aries will
never
end.”

She snuggled closer to her human lambs and fell asleep.

***

Professor Boomberg was warm enough in his car and comfortable too, but there was no time to rest. He was on his way back to base. He didn't phone his wife. She could catch the sheep on her own. He didn't doubt that she would and when she did, everything else needed to be ready. He glanced at his wrist computer.

“One hundred and seventy thousand seconds and counting…” he murmured.

He smiled his gleaming smile in the darkness. It was going to be tight but they would make it. B-Day
would
happen.

“I'll show them all,” he said aloud. “They won't be calling me mad in a hundred and seventy thousand seconds' time!”

Holly Boomberg wasn't nearly so warm. The open-sided golf cart wasn't designed for sleeping in, so she was glad of the lightweight sports blanket she always carried in her briefcase. She tucked it neatly around her shoulders and made herself as comfortable as possible. She'd parked the cart beside the still-swollen creek. At first light she would search for tracks again. Failure was not an option. Everything depended on her. And the sheep.

***

Cameron and Phoenix were on their feet before sunrise.

“Mom's gonna be worried sick,” said Phoenix. “Are you sure your phone's not working?”

“I've told you, man. Dead as a dodo,” replied Cameron, and he tossed his water-logged phone at his brother.

Phoenix prodded at it for a few seconds, then threw it on the ground. “So what do we do now?”

“We walk,” said Cameron. He'd got his confidence back. “It can't be too far to the highway.”

“What?” said Phoenix. “Walk? With no water and no phone! You're crazy.”

“So what do
you
want to do? Sit here and wait to die?” Cameron turned and strode off. “Let's go. We need to get some miles in before the sun gets too high.”

“What about the sheep?” called Phoenix, running after his brother.

“They're welcome to come if they want to,” grunted Cameron. “We could do with some lucky mascots now.”

“What did you say mascots were, dear?” asked Sal as the boys hurried away.

“I'm not sure,” replied Wills. “I think it's something to do with good luck.”

“So if we stick with them, we'll be lucky?” said Oxo. “And get to this Fort Wilmot place?”

“I think they think
we
bring
them
luck,” said Wills.

But the other warriors weren't listening. They'd all crowded past him to follow the lucky humans more closely.

They followed for a long time. More than two hours.

“So where's this highway, Cam?” demanded Phoenix.

He was becoming cranky. The burning colors of the desert, the reds, yellows, and browns, were beginning to swim before his eyes. He felt that he himself was being melted by the merciless sun. Cameron didn't have the energy to answer. His mouth was too dry anyway.

Phoenix pointed with a wavering hand. “We've passed that cactus before!”

There were a million cacti. They all looked the same. The Warrior Sheep were still plodding hopefully along behind.

“This good luck thing's taking a while to kick in…” muttered Oxo.

“Look!” croaked Sal with sudden excitement. “Look! Water! A pond! Just ahead there! Just ahead…” She staggered into a gallop. “I can see a pond!”

The pond kept moving away in front of her. It shimmered and glinted in the sunlight, but she could never quite reach it.

“Come back, Sal,” called Wills, forcing himself into a run to catch up with her. “There is no pond.”

“But I saw it, dear,” sobbed Sal. “Truly I did…”

“It isn't real,” said Wills. “It's a trick of the light. I think it's called a mirage.”

“Is it, dear?” said Sal vaguely. “I'm so terribly sorry…”

She didn't know what Wills was talking about, but there was no pool of crystal clear water. The other sheep gathered around.

“Hey, man,” said Links. “Tell me
that's
a mirage tingy too.”

They all looked where he was looking and saw a skeleton of sun-bleached bones lying on the sand close by. Wills shook his head.

“Er, no. Not a mirage,” he said.

“Bones,” grunted Oxo. “Sheep-sized.”

“Ohmygrass…” whimpered Jaycey. “Red Tongue's been here…”

The warriors looked around anxiously, but the only other living creatures they could see were Cameron and Phoenix, staggering on ahead of them. Then, when it seemed things couldn't possibly get worse, they did.

At first, the breeze was refreshing. Hot but pleasant. It came in little gusts, blowing in the sheep's faces and ruffling their fleeces. Quickly though, the gusts grew stronger and the pauses between each one shorter. Soon, tufts of spiky grass were being ripped up and bowled along the ground. The sun was blotted out and the sheep felt a hot breath on their fleeces.

“Nooo…” wailed Jaycey. “He'scominghe'scominghe'scoming!”

The breath grew fiercer. The sheep drew closer together. Through half-closed eyes, they could just see Cameron and Phoenix stumbling against the suddenly savage wind.

“The wind!” exclaimed Sal. “We are where the hottest winds blow! The prophecy is confirmed!”

“Great to know, man…great to know…” murmured Links.

The hot breath became a howling, blistering gale, whipping up the sand so that their eyes, noses, and mouths were swiftly and completely clogged. The humans and then the entire world around the sheep disappeared in a gritty, stinging haze. The warriors had no choice. As one, they turned their backs to the sand storm and hunkered down as close to the ground as they could get.

Gradually, the storm eased. The wind dropped to a breeze again and finally that died away too. Five mounds of storm-driven sand began to move. Five pairs of yellow eyes peered out at the great balls of tumbleweed rolling by in the fading wind. Oxo broke free of his sand hill and snapped hungrily at one of the balls.

“I wouldn't bother, man.” Links's voice came from a neighboring mound. “They's just organic barbed wire.”

“So what's not to like?” asked Oxo, who was rather partial to barbed wire, as long as it was crisp and rusty.

But the tumbleweed proved just as tough and dry and tasteless as everything else he'd tried in the desert. He chewed his own fleece for a bit instead and blamed Red Tongue for everything, which made him feel better.

Having realized that the storm was over, the other warriors were shaking themselves free of the sand. One by one they stood up, coughing and sneezing. Then the sun reappeared, blazing down on them once more from the harsh blue sky. The silence was as thick as the dust on the warriors' fleeces. Too weary to speak, they spluttered and choked and plodded on. They'd only gone twenty paces west, however, when they heard a feeble cry behind them.

“Hey, guys, wait for us…”

Turning, they realized they'd forgotten the humans.

Phoenix and Cameron struggled to their feet, wheezing and wiping sand from their faces. They swayed as they tried to follow the sheep. After a few stumbling paces, Cameron sank to the ground again and rolled on his back, staring at the sky. Phoenix knelt beside him, his own head spinning.

“Sorry, Phee…” Cameron's voice was a whisper. “We're gonna die and it's all my fault…”

Phoenix looked wildly, helplessly around. He knew Cameron was right. They needed water fast. They needed a miracle.

The sheep plodded back and clustered around, blinking. They all felt dizzy and weak. Dark shadows circling on the sand made Jaycey dizzier than ever.

“Ohmygrass…” she whimpered. “What's that?”

Squinting upward, they saw two large, gliding birds with black feathers, bald heads, and curved beaks.

“Vultures,” croaked Wills. “They're waiting.”

“What for?” asked Oxo.

“For us to die,” answered Wills.

Sal's Ear

Wills knew from the cowboy films he'd watched with Tod that vultures live on dead meat. It wasn't a nice thought. He glanced up again. They were still there, circling, watching.

Sal suddenly wobbled and lurched sideways.

“What's up now?” croaked Oxo. “Have you had another mirage?”

“It's my ear,” said Sal, lurching even farther. “It's buzzing again.”

“Ohmygrass…” Jaycey gasped as she stared.

Sal's ear was sticking straight out from her head and pulling Sal with it. She stumbled and fell, her neck outstretched.

“Sal, Sal, get up!” cried Jaycey. “The vulture birds will think you're dead and rip you to bits and then you will be dead and you're not dead so getupgetupgetup!”

The buzzing was louder now. Wills suddenly realized what it could mean. He remembered the flood.

“Dig,” he cried. “Dig!”

“What for?” asked Oxo.

“Just dig,” Wills urged. “Here, by Sal's head.”

He started to scrape at the hard dirt. They all joined in, and slowly the dust-dry ground beneath their hooves became heavier and stonier. Oxo drove his head into the hollow they'd created and his nose came out wet.

“Water!” he coughed. “There's water down here!”

They dug deeper, faster, and tiny puddles of moisture began to join together, forming a bigger puddle. Sal's ear finally stopped quivering.

The sheep leaned over the puddle in turns and lapped a little of the cool, clean water.

“The humans now,” said Wills.

Phoenix had seen and was trying to speak.

“Cam…Cam…” he rasped. “They've found water…”

Still on his knees, he tried to drag his brother across the dirt. The warriors came to meet him and, by gently butting and nudging, did their best to help.

Phoenix scooped up water from the hole and splashed it on Cameron's face. Then, heaving him into a sitting position, he trickled water between his brother's lips before leaning over and sucking in a mouthful himself. Then the warriors took it in turns again and this time, as water bubbled up from somewhere way below the surface, they drank their fill. When they'd finally had enough, they stood in a circle around Sal, their faces dripping. Her ear and the stud in it were still and quiet.

“Respect, man,” said Links, tapping a hoof against Sal's shoulder. “How did you know it was there?”

Sal looked modestly at the ground. “I suppose it's because I'm in touch with my inner sheepliness,” she said. “Being able to sense the presence of water must have been so useful to our ancestors.”

“Not in Eppingham,” objected Jaycey with a frown.

“Cool though,” said Oxo. “Couldn't sense the presence of a few fat cauliflowers as well, could you?”

Sal merely beamed at the warriors. “We all have powers long since forgotten,” she declared.

Wills wondered if it had more to do with silver studs applied with staple guns, but he said nothing. And if he was right, then there was another question: why had the Staple Gun Woman tagged Sal to find water? And what was Oxo's gold stud for?

Wills glanced across at the boys. They had water now, but Cameron was shivering despite the heat. He looked really ill and Phoenix didn't look much better. Clearly, they could't walk and they were too big for the sheep to carry. But the warriors couldn't just leave them. The vultures had drifted away but they would be back.

Wills scanned the empty landscape, hoping to see the dust of a vehicle. Nothing. Then, above the rim of the far-off mountains, he saw a speck in the sky.

Phoenix had seen it too.

“Helicopter…” he croaked. “Cam…there's a helicopter!”

The chop and whine of the rotors gradually became audible in the still desert air, although the machine was a long way off. Was it searching or just passing?

“Guys, we've got to attract its attention!” cried Wills.

He began running backward and forward.

“Oh dear,” sighed Sal. “It's really too hot for this.”

But she and the others joined Wills, running up and down and bleating loudly.

High above, the helicopter pilot saw movement to his left. As he dipped his machine toward it, he saw what seemed to be a small flock of supercharged sheep. He turned to the paramedic beside him. Her eyes were even wider than his. Then she pointed.

The sheep had to turn their backs as the landing helicopter created another sand storm. Then, once the rotors had slowed, they trotted to where Phoenix and Cameron were lying. The paramedic ran toward them and crouched beside the humans.

“Are you Phoenix and Cameron Dinsdale?” she asked.

Phoenix managed a nod.

“Your mom reported you missing. We've been searching since dawn.” She glanced at the puddle. “We were expecting to find a couple of corpses.”

The pilot joined her, bringing a stretcher, and between them they carried Cameron quickly to the helicopter. When they came back for Phoenix, he was on his feet, wavering but determined.

“You've gotta take these guys as well,” he said. “Wherever you're going. They saved our lives—twice. We're not moving without them.”

The paramedic shrugged.

“OK,” she said. “I guess we can take them back to Fort Wilmot.”

Wills had heard the words “Fort Wilmot.”

“It's a Red Tongue place, remember?” he said urgently to the other sheep.

And the pilot had no sooner lowered the helicopter's ramp than the warriors were scampering onboard.

“Is that another car?” asked Oxo, peering from the helicopter's open doorway, while they waited for the paramedic to strap her human patients in safely.

“Ohmygrass…” Jaycey was standing beside him. “It's staplegunwoman…”

Holly Boomberg screeched to a halt, well away from the whirring rotor blades, and leapt from her golf cart.

“You can't take those sheep!” she yelled, spotting Oxo in the doorway. “They're mine!”

But none of the humans heard her above the noise.

“Ready for lift off,” shouted the pilot, and the paramedic slammed the door shut as the helicopter rose from the ground and whirled away.

Down on the ground, however, spitting sand between gritted teeth, Holly was already back behind the wheel of her cart. She'd read the words on the side of the helicopter:

AIR AMBULANCE FORT WILMOT

Just after dawn at Back of Beyond Ranch, Tod and Gran had woken cold and thirsty by the dying embers of their fire. Tod threw on some more sticks until it flared again.

“I'm going to try and make some smoke signals, Gran,” he said. “To attract someone's attention.”

Gran creaked to her feet.

“Good idea,” she said, then gave him a little nudge. “I hope you spell better with smoke than you do with a pencil.” She walked stiffly toward the door. “While you're doing that, I'll get some water for our imaginary cup of tea.”

She picked up her bag, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the harsh light of the yard. And the twin barrels of a shotgun.