The Remarkables (The Remarkable Owen Johnson, part 1) (18 page)

“Sorry for startling you,” Ken said as Owen stood up, “but we didn’t
want you to make any noise that would attract attention. Where’s Fiona?”

“With them,” Katie explained close to tears, “she’s the one who let them know that we’re here.”

“Fiona?” questioned Mrs Argyle, walking into view. “But she was always hell bent on bringing The Remnant down?”

“I’m afraid
it was her,” said Owen, “she knew the men with guns. We would have been taken away by them if it wasn’t for whoever fired that Land Rover at us.”

“That was Fafnir,
Myrtle and Ellie,” said Ken. “I’m afraid that the three of them make quite the deadly combination. Fire, force and accuracy; and my Land Rover, alas. Goodbye Helen!” Ken called out across the field.

More footsteps could be heard runni
ng towards them down the road. Ellie emerged, panting. “They’ve taken Fiona. I don’t know where Owen and Katie are.” Then seeing that they were standing with the others: “Cancel that. Hi you two. Sorry about your sister, Katie.”

“I’m not,” said Katie.

“Eh?” said Ellie, clearly disturbed that Katie was unconcerned for the welfare of her sister.

“Fiona betrayed us,” explained Mrs Argyle.

“The treacherous hound!” declared Ellie.

“Quite,” agreed Mrs Argyle.
Katie looked like she wouldn’t have been quite so restrained with her description of her sister and her deceit. “That explains the reception we received at the farm: quite the welcoming party that they had waiting for us.”

“Well we can’t stay here,”
observed Ken. “They clearly know our intentions so we’d be walking into a trap if we carry on as planned.”

“We
still need to help my dad,” Owen reminded him.

“We can’t,” Clive said.
“We’d never get him out safely now.”

“But-” started Owen, but was cut off by Mrs Argyle.

“I agree,” she said, “with Owen.” Owen was as surprised as the rest of the group at her siding with him. “We cannot leave Christopher in the hands of The Remnant. And our very presence here will no doubt lead them to move him somewhere else, somewhere perhaps unknown to us.

“
We must strike now and get him out of there.  And I wouldn’t mind a word or two with young Katie’s sister if the opportunity arises.”

“Join the queue,” said Katie menacingly
, cracking her knuckles.

21

There were no arguments regarding Owen and Katie’s involvement from this point onwards. Fafnir and Myrtle were still on the hill near the farm so Ken volunteered to go and assist them. Owen offered to join him also, which Ken accepted gratefully. The others made their way down the hill away from where the borrowed car was parked, supposing that Fiona would soon lead the men there.

When Owen
asked Mrs Argyle how they would find them later, she explained that Fafnir would be able to find Ellie on account of their bond, just as Ken would be able to find Myrtle. Owen looked at Katie and wondered if such connections were formed voluntarily or by some unknown design.

Ken and Owen jogge
d up the hill towards the farm. “Can I ask,” began Owen, continuing without permission, “how did I get my powers?”

“Hmm?”
replied Ken distractedly, scanning the road ahead.

“Well, you
rself, Mrs Argyle and Myrtle all got your powers from that weird comet thing. I’m guessing that I must have got them from my mum, and Katie from her parents, right? And where did my mum get hers?”

Ken slowed down and
checked the area around them. Satisfied they were safe he put his hand on Owen’s shoulder. “It’s not for me to tell, I’m afraid,” he said. “What I can say is that the powers aren’t something you are born with; they don’t appear to be passed down from parent to child. The night that Cee, Myrtle and I were gifted wasn’t unique. That ‘
weird comet’
, as you put it, wasn’t a newcomer to our world; it’s visited here before. Numerous times, if Fafnir is to be believed, but he also says that he got his powers from another source, as did Ellie. However the abilities are acquired though, often they’ll sit there dormant, waiting for a time or an event that makes them spring to life.”

“So what was it for me?” Owen asked.

Ken smiled. “Like I said, it’s not my place to say; really it should be your father with whom you have this talk.” Owen began to protest, but Ken silenced him with a raised hand. “I tell you what: worse-case scenario and we don’t get your father out, I’ll tell you everything. When we do get your father out though, and I’m certain that we shall, he can decide what to tell you and in his own way. You owe him that.” Owen snorted at this, his opinion of his father lessening as he learned how little he had been told of his life so far.

“
Now listen to me Owen Johnson,” Ken said in a commanding voice, doing an uncanny and slightly disturbing impersonation of his sister, “your father has done more for you than you could possibly imagine. He deserves your respect and absolute loyalty for all of the sacrifices he has made for you, as well as for others.”

Owen stared back and then relented, nodding
in agreement, wondering what his father had been made to forfeit for his eldest son.

“Now come on,” said Ken, a smile forming, “I’ve got
to see a man about a cow.”

They entered the farmyard from the main gate. The farmhouse looked unscathed, but the barn and an adjacent silo were aflame. A procession of animals was filing away into a nearby field, a couple of geese lunging for Owen as they passed, angry no doubt at their forced eviction at this late hour.

Ahead they could see the backs of three
men, dressed in similar attire to those that had tried to take Owen and Katie earlier.  They were crouching behind a tractor that lay on its side and seemed unaware of Ken and Owen’s approach, no doubt distracted by the roar of the flames.

Ken held up his hand to stop Owe
n and motioned for him to follow him as they made their way towards a small brick outhouse that was a short distance from the main farmhouse, about five metres behind the men. Peering out from the wall, Owen and Ken watched as one of the men crouched and started to make his way towards a gap that stood between the burning barn and another building that was thus far untouched by the flames.

He had made it out about two paces when he turned and sprinted back to his hiding place, a jet of flames shooting past
him. The flames were followed by a large oil drum that bounced on the spot that he had just stood.

Owen looked in the direction where it had come from and saw Fafnir and
Myrtle stood in the middle of a space between the barn and the farmhouse. One of the men leant over the tractor and blindly fired a spray of bullets towards the old man and the cow.

The bullets were responded to b
y a cry of laughter and another oil drum, this time closely followed by a large hay bale. The oil drum passed over the heads of the men and bounced harmlessly but noisily on the ground behind, but the hay bale travelled via a larger arc and landed on one of the men, who slumped to the ground beneath it.

“
That’s the way! Bull’s-eye!” shouted out Fafnir, followed by a protesting noise from Myrtle. “Oh settle down, it’s just a phrase, no offense meant, old girl.”

The
two men looked at their fallen colleague, and then stared at the old man and the cow. They glanced at one another and appeared to come to an unspoken agreement. They both stood and ran back towards the farm’s main gate, and in the direction of Owen and Ken.

“Wait here,” whispered Ken.
When the men were within a metre of where they were stood, Ken stepped out of the shadows, his arms spread wide and a large smile on his face.

“
Hello!” Ken said loudly, a demented grin on his face. “I wonder if you could spare me a dozen eggs and a pint of milk. Chasing around morons such as your good selves is giving me quite an appetite!”

The men skidded to a halt and l
ooked at one another once more. The man on the left raised his gun and shouted for Ken to lie on the ground.

Ken looked down on
the ground and shook his head. “I’m not laying down there, it’s all wet.”

The man on the right k
icked the ground with his foot. “It’s not wet, it’s dry. Lie down!”

Ken sighed and shook his he
ad. “You asked for this, try and remember that.” In a flash he brought his hands together and then out again, a torrent of water firing towards the men. They were immediately knocked back off their feet and sent careering back towards the tractor, their arms flailing about impotently, trying and failing to protect themselves from the water, shouting out cries of protest as they slid across the farmyard. Their sounds and movements were cut short when they both hit the tractor with a thud, joining their immobile colleague on the ground.

Ken walked up to them and
nudged the men with his feet. Satisfied that they were dealt with he called Owen over. Myrtle and Fafnir joined them next to the men.

“You spoiled our fun!” admonished Fafnir.

“Humble apologies,” said Ken, performing a theatrical bow, “but we’re on a deadline. Come along, we’ve got a castle to storm.” Fafnir clapped his hands with glee and Myrtle gave Ken a welcoming nudge with her head. “Hello, old girl,” he said, ruffling the long hair on her head, “I missed you too.”

Ken and Fafnir motioned to leave the farmyard. Owen however, pointed at the burning buildings. “What about that?” he said, staring at the barn, its
roof starting to creak.

“Hmmm?” queried Ken.

“Don’t you think you ought to put out the fire? We started it, after all.”

“You’re right,
my apologies. The last time Fafnir and I were on battle duties, one really didn’t care about collateral damage.” Ken walked up the barn and opened his hands, releasing a powerful blast of water about a metre wide. He directed it over the tops of the combusting buildings, so that each of them received a steady stream. After about five minutes, all of the fires had been quashed. However, as the jet of water was so powerful, none of the buildings had a roof anymore.

“Good as new!” declared Fafnir. Owen didn’t agree with that appraisal, but at least the fires were out.

As they proceeded away from the smouldering farm, Owen explained to Fafnir what had happened in the field. He was particularly dismayed to hear of Fiona’s involvement.

“That
foolish girl,” he said, shaking his head. “Siding with these people,” he gestured towards the men they head just rendered unconscious behind them, “would have broken her parents’ hearts.”

“Grief makes people do things that we can ea
sily judge as misguided,” Ken said wisely, “especially when one is subjected to lies and skewed revelations as I’m sure she has been courtesy of The Remnant.”

“True, true,”
agreed Fafnir, nodding sadly. Unseen Owen shook his head at the two men, feeling that they too were guilty of not being entirely truthful and open to both himself and Katie.

“
We could have used her knowledge of the place to help Clive find Christopher though,” Ken continued.

“Well I can remember the upstairs bit
s,” Fafnir said thoughtfully, “but from what I can gather all of the recent activity is undertaken below ground.”

“You’ve been here before?” said Ken, a not
e of surprise in his voice. “You never mentioned that earlier.” By now they were crossing a field that bordered the foot of the large hill that Owen had seen before. If what Fiona had told them was true, the trees ahead were shielding The Remnant’s buildings from their sight.

“
When you’ve got as many memories as I have, one sometimes has problems with an effective filing system. Besides it was years ago, just after the main building was constructed. Since then the rats have been busy below ground, burrowing and building.” Owen didn’t think that Fafnir was referring to rodents. “I can navigate us past the front door; I can’t promise we won’t get lost in the kitchen.”

They
now entered the small wood and started walking through the densely populated trees. Ken gestured that they should be as quiet as possible for the time being. Even Myrtle, who was following behind, seemed to tread more carefully. Owen tried to not to snigger audibly at the sight of a five hundred kilogram cow tiptoeing.

Through the trees ahead, Owen could see the
lights that he had glimpsed earlier, although in a greater number and intensity than before. Ken indicated for them all to stop.

“How many?” he whispered to Fafnir.

Fafnir closed his eyes, a look of concentration on his face. “Twelve, a sense of alertness but not directed towards us.”

“And the others?”

“They’re on right hand side of the clearing; Ellie is waiting for my instructions.”

“Tell her to follow our lead.”

Fafnir moved his arm slightly in a jerking fashion. “Done.”

Could Fafnir and Ellie communicat
e telepathically as it seemed? Owen made a mental note to ask at a more appropriate time. He looked towards the lights and saw beyond them an old manor house. It looked over two hundred years old. “You were here after this was built?” Owen asked. “How old are you?”

Fafnir didn’t a
nswer, preferring just to grin. He did however comment that he couldn’t remember the hill appearing as large back then as it did now.

Ken stroked his beard brief
ly, staring towards the house. “There’s a group of cars to the left of the house. Fafnir, do you think you could skirt round the trees and make a bonfire?”

“Okey dokey,” Fafnir said, and trotted through the trees towards the foot of the hill.

“Owen,” Ken said, “I need to get up on the roof. Fancy giving me a ride?”

Owen looked
at the house and then at Ken. Ken was at least twice the size of Katie, the only other person he had carried whilst using his powers, and wasn’t sure if he could manage someone of Ken’s size. But then he also recalled how effortlessly he had taken her through the sky. Deciding to trust in his abilities, Owen nodded and took off his rucksack and jogged up to Fafnir, handing it to him for safe keeping. Returning to Ken, he knelt slightly to allow him to climb onto his back. On the ground Ken seemed to weigh a tonne and Owen was suddenly fearful that he would land flat on his face.

“Hold o
n tight,” Owen said nervously. “What about Myrtle?” he added, as the cow snorted in a disapproving manner.

“She knows her orders,” said Ken. “Giddy up!”

Ignoring Ken’s reference to him being a horse, Owen ran as fast as he could and jumped in the air. Reaching out, his hands made contact with the familiar invisible surface and he propelled himself forward. All of Ken’s weight vanished in an instant as Owen picked up speed and height, the manor house and hill rapidly diminishing in size beneath them.

“Remarkable
,” Ken adjudged quietly.