Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom (18 page)

‘What?’

‘Run!’

Fergus looked
back along the corridor filled with black hopping shapes cutting
them off from the main corridor. He turned back to see Dave fifty
yards away and accelerating. Fergus ran.

They careered
into the cavern. Fergus risked a glance over his shoulder and ran
straight into Dave, who’d stopped.

The Snapjacks
stood at the edge of the cavern, their heads moving from side to
side. They sniffed and sat back on their haunches, but not one of
them hopped onto the green grass that carpeted the cavern.

‘That’s not a
good sign,’ said Fergus.

‘Well it
depends; perhaps they are allergic, hay fever like.’

‘You
reckon?’

Dave looked at
Fergus and frowned.

‘Let’s see if
there’s another way out.’

They trudged up
a slight rise towards a stand of trees in the near distance. The
vast roof of the cavern obscured by dazzling light from huge lamps,
suspended hundreds of meters overhead

‘Did you see
that?’ asked Dave.

‘What?’ said
Fergus and yawned.

‘I saw
something move in the trees.’

‘How big was
it?’ asked Fergus and yawned again.

‘Big enough to
be worrying. Eee, I feel knackered.’

Fergus stumbled
and fell on his hands and knees.

‘Dave, I don’t
feel too – ow!’

‘What’s the
matter now?’

‘There’s
something sharp in this – ow, ow, ow!

‘Get up lad,
we’ve got to…’ Dave yawned, ‘Damn it come on, move, head for the
trees’.

Dave pulled
Fergus to his feet and they lurched into a feeble trot.

‘Keep going.
Keep going, don’t stop.’

They staggered
into the shade of the trees.

‘Climb. Get up
there now,’ said Dave and pushed Fergus towards a low branch.

‘Keep going,
Get as high as you can,’ shouted Dave from a neighbouring tree.

There was the
crack of a stick breaking and Dave looked around. Below him was a
hideous face attached to a 9 foot tall horned creature, draped in a
white toga, like some strange Roman god.

‘It's quite
safe, you can climb down now,’ said the face, ‘Would you like a
-FINGERS- hand.’

‘I’m fine right
where I am. Thank you for your consideration, but we are fine,
really fine. Enjoying the view and that. No need for assistance at
all. Good day.’

‘My name is
Azimuth, and as your host, I feel obliged to make you welcome,
which is hardly possible with you half way up a tree. Please come
down, it’s utterly safe’

‘Are you sure’
said Dave

‘Oh yes,
Skinner ants -BITE BITE BITE- never venture under the Waldorf trees
and the Spanker grass pollen soon dissipates.’

‘Err, sorry to
mention it, but are you all right?’ asked Dave.

‘Never -TASTY
TASTY- better. Why do you ask?’

‘Dave, who is
this and why are they shouting nonsense in a strange voice.
Tourette’s syndrome?’ asked Fergus.

‘Well, you do
keep shouting odd things,’ said Dave, ignoring Fergus’s unhelpful
contribution.

‘What -FLAY
THEM ALIVE- me? Oh ignore that, it’s just him. He usually gets
excited when I have guests. He’ll calm down shortly. Would you care
for a cup of tea? I understand you humans like it too. I have some
excellent Darjeeling.’

‘That would
lovely,’ said Dave ignoring Fergus's slow headshakes, ‘we happen to
have some fine Assam, a variety I consider suitable for the
midmorning. Incidentally, do you know another way back to the main
corridor?’

‘No, I'm afraid
not. The only way to the main corridor, is across -NO NO NO - the
Spanker grass, assuming you can make it and avoid getting skinned
-OH THE HORROR- and through that pack of Snapjacks -CRUNCHY
MUNCHY-.I would love to show you round. I’ve tried to add little,
homely touches.’

‘How
delightful. Come on Fergus, let's grab a cuppa and perhaps you
would like to share a biscuit or two?’

‘You have
biscuits? How lovely to meet someone so well -BLOODY BOY SCOUT-
prepared.’

Dave shinned
down the tree and slung an arm around Fergus's shoulders. He
whispered confidentially.

‘Listen lad,
we’re dealing with a seriously deranged personality here. I suggest
we keep things calm until we get an opportunity to get back to the
corridor. I reckon those Snapjacks will be fed up waiting after a
few hours. Till then all sweetness and light. Just ignore the
shouting.’

They followed
the creature along a bare earth path that crossed a narrow strip of
Spanker grass to the small lake.

‘You have to
paddle in the lake for a bit, get the Skinner ant’s juice off your
feet. That’s what -JUST ONE LITTLE BITE MOTHER- attracts them you
know.

Dave and Fergus
waded after the monster. There was a swirl in the water as
something very large moved.

‘Oh don’t mind
the alligators, they are well fed -FEED ME ME ME - on baboon.
Azimuth pointed to nearby rocks, where a troop of baboons sat
watching.

It all works
rather well, what with the baboons -MOON JUNE SPOON- feeding off
the Waldorf fruit and the alligators and lions living off the
baboons. Shame about the grass and the ants, but he put them in
before I got here. He doesn’t care for visitors -KEEP THEM AWAY
MOTHER- at all.

‘I love what
you've done with the rocks, a nice Victorian folly feel to it.’

‘Well one does
try. This is the path to my cave -MY LAIR YOU LIAR-. Mind your step
and try not to tread on the snakes.’

They climbed up
into the rocks, following a worn path. Fergus saw flashes of snake
slither away either side of the path.

‘So how did you
manage to transport so much earth down here to the cavern?’ asked
Dave.

‘My dear chap,
we didn't bring it down, we brought it up from below.’

‘Must’ve taken
some lugging through all those tunnels.’

‘Oh no, we
brought it up the main access shaft, so much easier.’

‘Ah, so there
is another exit?’ asked Dave.

‘Oh yes, but it
doesn't join up with the main corridor. All the access doors are
sealed. I suppose you could go all the way to the bottom and across
the machine floor that would get you back to the tunnel complex
eventually. Would you like to see it? It’s impressive.’

‘That would be
lovely,’ said Dave

They stepped
off the path and headed around the side of the rocks. They walked
across a field of high grass towards a huge opening carved into the
side of the cavern.

‘Dave,’ said
Fergus, ‘there's lions over there. They’re stalking us, just like
they do in those nature documentaries.’

‘Oh don't worry
about them,’ said Azimuth, ‘just don't act like a baboon. Difficult
for you I know, but try, it would be distressing to lose a
guest.’

He turned round
and gave a vast roar, the lionesses fled.

The tunnel was
bigger than the main corridor. The floor was dusty and some of the
overhead lights had failed. They went deeper into the tunnel and
the light ahead became brighter.

They entered a
huge circular room; it was the top of a massive hole, easily half a
mile across, a double helix of roadways spiralling gently down.
Each roadway brightly lit with an inner parapet three foot high,
guarding against the huge drop.

They walked to
the edge and looked down. The spiralling roadways went round, and
round, ever deeper and seemed almost to meet. There was a small
circle of light right in the centre.

‘Now that is an
access shaft,’ said Dave. ‘How deep is it?’

‘I really have
no idea,’ said Azimuth, ‘The road is about 100 miles – I’M COMING
MOTHER - to the bottom.’

‘Well, that’s a
long walk, perhaps we best get going,’ said Dave, edging away from
Azimuth.

‘It’s too late,
I’m afraid. He’s coming I can feel it. Sorry about this. You’re
such charming guests. I’ll hold on for as long as possible.’

‘I’m sorry,
what?’ said Dave.

‘He’s coming, I
can’t stop him, and there is no way you can outrun him. Best accept
your fate.’

‘I don’t
understand,’ said Fergus.

‘He only does
two things. You best hope he eats you first.’

‘I think we
ought to get going. Come on Fergus,’ said Dave.

‘I’M BACK.’

Azimuth gave a
huge yell, tore off his toga, and beat his chest, like a giant,
horned Tarzan.

‘Bloody hell,’
said Dave at the sight of the naked Azimuth and remembered ‘he only
does two things’.

‘Run.’ yelled
Dave.

Even with
gentleman’s brogues, Dave managed a respectable pace, but it was
nothing in comparison to Azimuth. His huge legs carried him along
at startling speed and he caught Fergus and Dave in moments.

‘IT’S BEEN A
LONG, LONG - You are such a brute. Hold on second, just thought of
something - TIME.’

Azimuth held
Dave and Fergus up, one in each hand and stared into their
faces.

‘Sorry about
this chaps, but it’s the only way,’ said Azimuth and threw them
both over the parapet.

Dave,
experienced in long descents, quickly grabbed hold of his flat cap
and looked at his watch. Fergus just screamed as they plummeted
down the main access shaft.

Dave
Trellis

One
Life, One Woman, One Shed

Dave stuffed
his flat cap down his trousers and assumed the classic skydiver
stance. He slipped air and slid over to Fergus.

‘KEEP UP WITH
ME,’ shouted Dave over roaring wind.

Dave started
unwinding the rope around his waist, it trailed upwards like the
tail of a doomed kite. He tried to get something out of his pocket
and started tumbling head over heels. Dave righted himself and
struggling with the rope for a few seconds and cut off the
unwrapped length with his pen knife. He glided over and grabbed
Fergus, then tied the rope around his waist. Two very long ends
trailed away from the desperate granny knot. Dave shrugged off his
rucksack and passed it to Fergus.

‘DON’T DROP
IT.’ roared Dave and opened the rucksack. He pulled out a blue
polypropylene ground sheet. It started slapping and writhing around
in the wind. Dave struggled with it and managed to tie each of the
trailing ends of the rope to brass eyelets set around the edge.

Dave started
unwinding the remaining rope. He tried it in the middle around
himself with another granny hitch of uncertain utility. He then
eased himself upwards, along the snapping groundsheet, away from
Fergus. Once he reached the other end Dave risked a quick glance at
his watch then tied the ends of his rope to the ground sheet.

Dave flipped up
vertically and dived away from Fergus. The ground sheet filled with
air and ballooned out, slinging Dave inwards towards Fergus and
they crashed together, each grabbing hold and hugging like amorous
bears.

The makeshift
parachute slowed their descent dramatically. The wind slowed from a
roar to a howl.

‘I reckon
that’s halved our speed. Must be no more than about 60 miles per
hour,’ shouted Dave right in Fergus’s ear.

‘No need to
shout,’ shouted Fergus. ‘Anyway, makes no difference, we will still
die when we hit the ground.’

‘Always the
pessimist. No wonder you never get laid.’

‘You what?’

‘We are going
to die soon according to you, so give over, and apply your brain to
our current situation.’

Dave looked
down and pointed.

Fergus looked
down too. They were most of the way down the massive shaft and they
could see what lay beyond. It wasn’t the ground, which was good. It
was a vast bowl, in the centre stood an immense machine. It was as
if you stood a mile above major oil refinery. A sprawling city of
white domes and enormous pipes spread out for tens of miles in each
direction. They were falling down a huge hole into thin air miles
above an industrial complex the size of London. In the middle rose
a huge column dwarfing the rest of the machine. It was a complex
spire of baroque spurs and buttress.

The end of the
shaft and their last option, an attempted landing on the concrete
motorway, was gone.

‘We can still
try,’ shouted Dave, ‘Spread yourself out like this until we get
closer to the ground. Then when we hit, bend your knees, and try to
fall sideways on imp-’

Dave and Fergus
were slapped with great force by an invisible hand or perhaps
someone had managed to swing a whale and let rip. With the sound of
a cricket bat hitting a side of beef, they came to rest. Dave was
stunned and wet. Fergus was better off, as at least had his feet
pointing downwards on impact, and floated chest high in clear
water. Dave spluttered next to him wrapped up in blue groundsheet.
Dave untangled himself with little grace and much cursing and
splashing.

‘Well I suppose
we should be grateful’ said Dave, his face bright red.

‘You’ve got a
face like a slapped –’

‘Yes, thanks
for that. I can feel it you know.’

‘Hurts does
it?’ asked Fergus.

‘Not as much as
your ingratitude. A little thanks wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘Ok, you’re
right, but if you’d let me keep the gravity belt, this would never
have happened.’

‘Always
something with you isn’t it? A simple ‘thanks Dave’ would suffice.
Now which way is dry land?’

They bobbed in
an immense lake of crystal clear water. The distant walls reached
up to meet the roof lost in the dimness above. All the light came
from the vast machine, miles below the surface.

Dave reached
into his rucksack and pulled out a prism compass. He took a bearing
on the hole in the roof that entered the chamber close to the edge
of the lake. He took another bearing for triangulation.