Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom (21 page)

It was a
pathetic race, with Dave and Fergus running and falling, and then
Azimuth, with a clam stuck on his foot like a huge boot, steadily
gaining ground.

Dave was
breathing heavily and Fergus seemed dazed after hitting his head on
the last lurch. Azimuth was almost upon them. A huge branch rose up
like a cobra and wrapped itself around his chest. Dave and Fergus
scrambled away on hands and knees.

‘Come on, let’s
get going while we have the chance,’ said Dave and stomped off,
legs wide apart, like a man with ferret filled trousers. The ground
sloped down and Dave started to pick up momentum. Then they hit the
steep bit. Fergus lasted a few yards, before he tripped and
tobogganed the rest of the way, snowploughing the mud with his
face. Dave made a concerted effort, picked his feet up and shot
down the increasing slope like a frenetic clown.

Each in his
fashion careered down the side of the steep ravine. Dave eventually
overtook Fergus, as his snowshoes started to slide, and he skied
the last few hundred feet.

Dave helped
Fergus to his feet. He was shaken, but not cocktailed. Once he
pulled the mud out of his mouth, swilled and washed his face,
Fergus was nominal.

‘He’s not going
to be stuck there forever Dave. We need to go,’ said Fergus and
coughed up some mud.

‘I know lad,
but I’m torn between carrying on though this vegetable hell, chased
by a raging nine foot demon, who wants to eat us or worse, or nip
down this hidden side tunnel that I just discovered by sheer
accident and get out of this nightmare.’

Fergus looked
at Dave.

‘What? Come on
let’s get out of here.’

‘No lad. Stop.
Read the signs.’

All around the
tunnel entrance were signs with strange writing.

‘I can’t read
any of them. What do they say?’

‘Here,’ said
Dave and picked up a fallen sign from the ground. ‘This one’s in an
Earth language, fortunately it’s English.’

NO ACCESS

NON-ADHERENTS
KILLED ON SIGHT

‘It’s just a
sign. This place has been abandoned for millennia.’

‘It’s the
phrasing lad, it’s familiar, and that big one up there, that’s in
Dog. Proper Dog mind, not the puppy language I understand. I’ve
seen it somewhere before.’

‘Come on Dave.
We’re fighting to stay alive here and being chased by a homicidal
off-world visitor to boot. What can be worse?’

‘There’s
difference between possible death and probable death. Here, we may
get caught, or not. If we get caught, we may be killed. In there we
die.’

Azimuth
appeared at the top of the gorge, his head was bleeding and one
hand was clutching his chest, in his other he carried a huge tree
branch.

‘NOW YOU
PAY.’

‘Then again,’
said Dave, ‘There is the manner of death, quick and clinical or
interesting.’

‘Sorry?’ asked
Fergus.

‘Well, for
instance, finding out exactly how much skin there is on a human
body.’

Dave sighed,
grabbed Fergus by the shoulder, and ran into the tunnel.

Light from the
entrance was long gone. Dave and Fergus groped their way forward,
listening for noises, especially from behind.

‘I don’t think
he’s following.’ whispered Fergus, ‘I can’t decide if that’s good
or bad.’

‘Never mind
that, can you smell it?’ asked Dave.

‘Smells like a
urinal; I just thought it was us.’

‘I think I know
where we are. It’s not good news, not good at all. There is a tiny
chance we might get out of this, but only if you do exactly as I
say. Do you understand?’

‘Is this one of
those ‘yes Dave’ moments?’

‘More than you
could ever know, and don’t be flippant.’

‘Yes Dave.’

‘Right, have
you ever heard the noise a puppy makes when it’s hurt?’

‘A sort of high
pitched yipping noise?’

‘That’s the
one. When it happens, lie on your back and make that noise as loud
as you can.’

‘When what
happens?’

‘I don’t know,
but it will be sudden, unexpected, and lethal.’

‘Dave, are we
going to die?’

‘Yes.’

‘I mean right
now.’

‘Oh,
probably.’

The tunnel
became narrower and the floor uneven. They tripped and stumbled in
complete darkness, all sense of direction gone, touching the walls
to keep them going the right way.

‘It’s dinner
time up top and I think we should rest for a bit. Tomorrow we may
get to the end, possibly in more ways than one.’

‘What if we
wait here, until Azimuth goes away?’

‘Sound plan lad
with two minor flaws. We’re out of water and out of time. Don’t
forget why we’re down here in first place. We’ve two days left.

Cheer up. I
think it’s time to break out the emergency rations.’ There was a
ripping sound. ‘I always keep some Kendal mint cake hidden in
lining.’

Enoch stood on
the walls of St Catherine’s allotments and watched the dogs muster.
They’d trickled in over the last two days and now they started
organising themselves.

There was a
deal of running about, scuffling, quiet barks, and head-banging,
more like a reunion than a call to arms. Slowly packs formed and
leaders trotted back and forth conferring. Order formed out of
chaos and two hundred dogs became thirty combat and one control
pack. On command the entire horde formed up and trotted into the
allotments in parade order.

The sight made
Enoch glad. His own muster had not gone so well, only fifty Palaver
were bunked down in the barracks. He expected four times that
number and without them the battle plan was uncertain. He hoped
that Dave was having better luck, as intervention rather than
fighting looked like the best option.

Dave
Trellis

One
Life, One Woman, One Shed

Dave and Fergus
could see light ahead. Thirsty and hungry, yet still wary, they
crept out of the tunnel and into the warm light of the cavern. In
front of the tunnel exit was a jumble of large rocks. With Dave
leading, they started to climb.

Dave peeked
over the top of the boulders and saw a wall right across the
cavern. In the middle was a gateway and before the wall a wide,
clear space of smooth cavern floor.

‘There’s nobody
about,’ whispered Dave, ‘perhaps we got lucky and it’s abandoned.
We’ll try and sneak through. In any case don’t forget what I told
you.’

Fergus stuck
his thumb up and they clambered down. Halfway across Dave stopped.
Perhaps it was a change in air pressure or a tiny noise that
alerted him. He turned round. Out of the rocks emerged two dogs as
big as carthorses. They bounded towards him.

Dave yelled
‘Now’ and flung himself down on the hard rock floor, rolled over
and started yelping in the most pitiful way. Fergus turned and saw
a dog’s head the size of an armchair. It growled and showed teeth,
lots of teeth. It looked directly at him. Fergus froze. The dog
leapt. At the last moment he remembered, fell backwards, and yelped
as loud as he could. It saved his life.

The dog’s paws
thumped down either side of Fergus. He stared at one furry tree
trunk leg and a paw lifted up and settled on his chest. The weight
was unbearable forcing the air out of his lungs. He stopped
yelping; he couldn’t breathe.

Dave was still
yelping, fear lent strength to his voice and the pitiful cries
echoed around the cavern. The dog standing over Dave looked
confused, leaned down and sniffed. It licked Dave with the tip of
its tongue, then turned its head to look at the other dog and
barked.

The other dog
barked back, short and loud. Fergus’s ears rang. The pressure on
his chest increased, pain swelled and he tried to throw up. The dog
opened its jaws, turned its head and bent forward. Fergus could
feel its teeth scrape down each side of his head and dark, wetness
covered his face. He tried to scream.

In desperation,
Fergus scrabbled about the dog’s face. He pushed a hand into a
nostril and he gouged with all his strength. The dog’s head jerked
back, its teeth cut into Fergus’s face and threw him forward. The
dog shook its head and barked furiously. Fergus crumpled unmoving
onto the floor.

The other dog
sniggered and Dave took the opportunity to duck under its legs. He
ran, knees pumping, yelping loudly and headed for the rocks. Dave
didn’t need to hear the scrabbling of claws on rock to know that
both dogs were trying to head him off. He didn’t look back, he just
leant forward as far as he could and ran for his life.

Dave dived
under the first boulder he saw with a gap under it. He pulled his
legs in and carried on yelping. A huge paw reached under the
boulder, the claws dug into Dave’s stomach and dragged him out.
Dave looked up into the face of the dog. It growled and Dave barked
at it. The dog took a step back in astonishment and then its
hackles rose. It growled; a deep rumbling like a juggernaut in the
night.

There was
barking in the distance. A single dog ran at full gallop towards
them. As it got closer, Dave could hear what it was barking. He
sighed and slumped down.

Boadicea leant
into the neck of her horse and tried to get more than a canter out
of the tired animal. She could see the turrets beyond the trees.
Not long now, she thought, not long before the row starts.

They were
waiting for her in the courtyard, sat on their day thrones, banners
flying, a full honour guard, and even a few trumpets. Just what she
needed; trumpets.

Her father
stood up, threw his arms wide.

‘Ti nessun,
bienvar haim.’

Boadicea
curtsied.

‘Thanks Dad,
it's lovely to be home, but I’m in a hurry.’

‘You're not on
that dishonourable, gutter planet now. Speak properly,’ said
Boadicea's mother in impeccable English.

‘Sorry Mother.
This is diplomatic mission on behalf of Earth, so I speak their
language. I’d have been here yesterday, but they confiscated my
motorbike.’

‘As is right,
this world is ours, those are our ways.’

‘Indeed, your
world -’

‘Your world?’
said her father, ‘Have you grown so distant?’

Boadicea smiled
and gave her father a kiss; protocol be damned.

‘Father,
Mother. Earth is in grave danger will you raise the armies and send
help?’

‘You know the
history, we will not help them again,’ said her father

‘I thought as
much and understand. But I choose to ignore history. Where is my
Champion?’

‘You don't have
one dear,’ said her mother. ‘You said they were an anachronism and
refused all candidates.’

‘Really? I
thought I choose Sir Geraint. Oh well. Father, who would be a
suitable champion?’

‘Well there's
Sir Bran, he's getting on a bit, but a deadly man in his time.’

‘What? Uncle
Bran?’

‘Yes dear,’
said her mother. ‘He's the King's champion, but he would jump at
the chance to protect his favourite niece.’

‘Thank you
Daddy for giving me your champion.’ Boadicea curtsied again.

‘Uncle Bran’
yelled Boadicea.

A tall,
slightly portly man stepped out of the ranks of armoured man and
walked towards Boadicea.

‘Yes
Milady?’

‘Assemble my
honour guard immediately.’

‘You don't have
an honour guard dear,’ said her mother. ‘An anachronism,
remember?’

‘Uncle Bran,
please call a muster of all able bodied men willing to join my
honour guard.’

‘Yes Milady,’
said Bran.

‘And don't be
fussy, we ride in an hour.’

‘Where are we
going?’ asked Bran.

‘To Earth and
certain death,’ shouted Boadicea and then quietly to Bran, ‘Sorry
about the melodramatics, but it usually gets things going.’

‘Yes indeed,
Boadicea, may also suggest a few 'only the bravest heart and
strongest arm need apply', we need to appeal to the ego.’

‘I need only
the stout of heart and strong in sinew. It is an endeavour of great
peril, that only the bravest can endure,’ shouted Boadicea.
‘Something like that uncle?’ she said to Bran.

‘That’ll do
nicely love.’

‘If you think
you are going into battle dressed like that,’ said Boadicea’s
mother, ‘you have another think coming young lady.’

Three hours
later, Boadicea dressed in her mother’s full set of plate armour,
led a phalanx of 50 men out of the courtyard. There were banners,
sun glinting off burnished armour and trumpets. There are some
occasions when trumpets are utterly appropriate.

Fergus woke up
and felt pain, hideous, sickening pain that was worse when he
breathed in. He was lying on a mattress in a small cave.

‘Dave?’ said
Fergus, his voice croaked.

There was a
quiet yap and a small furry face peered down at him. Fergus was
amazed. It was a puppy.

‘Hello pup,’
said Fergus.

The puppy
snorted and turned away. It barked once and ran out of the
cave.

After a few
minutes Dave arrived.

‘You’re awake
at last. I was getting worried. Mind you not as worried as
persuading this lot not to finish the job.’

‘How am I
doing?’

‘Four broken
fingers, three nasty cuts, two cracked ribs and concussion fit to
stun a bear’

‘And a
partridge in a pear tree?’

‘That’s the
spirit.’

‘How long?’

‘Best part of a
day.’

‘We’ve got to
get going. We’ve only got a day left.’

‘I know lad, I
was thinking of leaving you here, despite the risks. If I wasn’t
here though, I reckon you would’ve never woken up.’

‘What’s the
problem? They are just dogs, like the ones at the allotments.’