The Time Hunters (Book 1 of the acclaimed series for children of all ages) (7 page)

Chapter 8

Otto
Kruger

In a fraction of a second it was over. Becky forced
open her eyes and stared at Joe, disorientated and somewhat disappointed. She’d
expected more. Other than a flashy light show and a loud bang nothing else
suggested they weren’t still in the Time Room at Bowen Hall. That was until –
splat -
an enormous dragonfly careered
into the window. Looking round, she saw they were in a thick bushy glade,
enveloped by soaring trees that stabbed the sky.

Uncle Percy turned to face them. ‘You are now
officially time travellers - unregistered, of course.’

‘And we’re in Kansas?’ Joe asked.

‘We most certainly are.’

‘When?’
Becky asked.

‘Let’s just say the Big Mac won’t exist for another
twelve thousand years.’

‘T-twelve thousand years?’
Becky spluttered.

‘Wow,’ Joe gushed.

‘Wow, indeed, Joe,’ Uncle Percy said, grabbing his
backpack. ‘Welcome to the last Ice Age - the Pleistocene epoch, to be precise.’
He opened the door and stepped on to the soft, damp turf. Sliding Bertha’s side
door open, he said, ‘Now, whatever you do, no wandering off.’

‘Err, why?’ Becky’s eyes flicked to the undergrowth.
‘It’s not dangerous, is it?’

‘No, but it is
we
who are out of our time. You just have to be careful.’

‘Careful of what?’

‘Well, it is a forest. Forests have animals. But
don’t worry - ’

‘What kind of animals?’

‘Mostly the harmless kind, but -’

Becky was getting alarmed now. ‘- But?’

‘But you may get the odd snake, wild boar, grizzly
bear and …’ - his voice dropped to something of a mumble - ‘…
Sabre-tooth tiger.’

‘Sabre-tooth tiger!’
Becky exclaimed.

‘It’s the Ice Age, what do you expect?’ Uncle Percy
shrugged. ‘Don’t worry, you’ve met Milly and - ’

‘But Milly’s your pet! She’s tame, and -’ Becky’s
voice rose to fever pitch. ‘- And this is the wild!’

‘Stop being such a wuss,’ Joe said, earning himself
a twanged ear.

‘Wild and wonderful!’
Uncle Percy said with a smile.

Suddenly Becky wasn’t quite
so
sure as to what was so wonderful about it.

*

The moment Bertha left the Time Room, a cold and
unusually heavy wind swept the shingled path behind Bowen Hall kitchens. A
violent explosion of swirling scarlet light cut the air and a huge coal-black
Daimler car appeared. Four heavily built men sat in it, each wearing a finely
tailored suit and floor-length, leather trench coat, their emotionless faces
masked behind black, steel-rimmed sunglasses.

Otto Kruger stepped out of the time machine with
surprising elegance for a man of his size. Standing six foot five inches tall,
with icy green eyes and a pale, square-jawed face, he was perhaps the most
fearsome looking man to step foot in the grounds of Bowen Hall.

Kruger surveyed the lawns. The information he’d
received had been correct: the groundsman and the Sabre-tooth cat were in the
outermost field. Good. If truth were told, he wasn’t sure why his employer had
warned him about the groundsman, no matter whom he was or claimed to be. There
wasn’t a man, woman or child he couldn’t kill if he wanted to. And he’d had
plenty of practice.

Still, he had received his orders and killing the
groundsman wasn’t one of them. It would therefore not happen. Not today,
anyway. And that was precisely why his employer had sought him out and
recruited him. Otto Kruger
always
followed orders.

As he moved towards the Hall, Kruger felt extremely pleased
with himself. The plan was finally moving forward. Furthermore, for the second
time in his life his orders came from a man he truly respected. And the rewards
when the plan was complete - well, they were more than he could have ever dared
imagine.

Yes, if the
artifact
were here, at Bowen Hall, then he would certainly find it. And nothing
and nobody could stop him.

*

‘But, Jacob, they are children,’ Maria pressed,
angrily jabbing a feather duster at a rather fragile looking vase. ‘This is too
much danger for them. They are too young. They are too special.’

Jacob winced. He knew only too well the vase was
over a thousand years old. But he also knew that there was no point enraging
his wife further.

‘And they are babies, just babies,’ Maria continued,
lip quivering. ‘And this silly travelling may get them killed.’

‘The master would never let them come to any harm,’
Jacob replied. ‘He is the
wisest of
men
. He knows what he is doing.’

‘Pah!’ Maria huffed. ‘All of this bad, terrible
business with Mr Preston has jumbled his brain, I think. He hardly sleeps … he
works like a mule… his thinking is wonky.’

‘He is fine, Maria.’

Maria was about to contradict when she saw something
in the corner of her eye. She stopped dead, her insides ablaze as if doused in
boiling oil.

‘Guten Morgen,’ Otto Kruger said without emotion.
‘We meet again, so I believe. Now you will tell me where the children sleep or
I will kill you like dogs as I should have in our former lives.’

Maria turned pale, then deathly white. She was
staring at the devil himself.

An ugly smile curled on Kruger’s lips as he pointed
a pistol at Jacob’s head.

Chapter 9

A
Mammoth Event

‘Let me show you the real reason we’re here,’ Uncle
Percy said.

Becky looked at Joe and gave a glum shrug. They had
been walking through dense jungle for some time and seen nothing vaguely
interesting. If truth be told, she was bored stiff.

‘Just through here,’ Uncle Percy said, disappearing
through a gap in the trees.

Becky followed. As she emerged from the other side,
sunlight blinded her. When her eyes adjusted, she found herself on the top of a
cliff overlooking a vast canyon at the base of which were thousands of large
animals, covered with long, shaggy, dusty-brown hair and huge curved tusks.

‘A -
are
they woolly
mammoths?’ Joe asked, astonished.

‘They are indeed. I call it Mammoth Gorge. Do you
like it?’

‘It’s amazing,’ Joe replied. ‘Isn’t it, Becky?’

Becky said nothing.

‘Are you all right, Becky?’ Uncle Percy asked.

She remained silent.

‘Becky?’ Uncle Percy repeated, sounding anxious now.
Then his face cracked into a knowing smile.

Tears were spilling down Becky’s face. ‘I’m okay,’
she slurred, turning away so Joe couldn’t see.

Uncle Percy leaned into her ear and whispered, ‘It’s
quite all right, my dear. That’s exactly how I reacted when I first saw it...’

*

A few minutes later, Uncle Percy spread a picnic
blanket on the ground and emptied the contents of his backpack. ‘I trust
everyone’s hungry? Maria’s laid on quite a spread.’

They launched into the food with gusto, and then lay
on their backs, watching condors weave the velvet blue sky. Soon, the only
sound that could be heard was the soft, rhythmic purr of Joe sleeping.

Becky saw this as an ideal opportunity to raise
something that had been bothering her. ‘Who’s Bernard Preston?’

Uncle Percy sat up sharply. ‘What?’

‘That Keith bloke last night mentioned something
about Bernard Preston’s murder and a manuscript. I was wondering who he was.
It’s just… I’m sure I’ve heard that name before.’

‘Well, it’s a common name, but it’s unlikely you’ll
know
this
Bernard Preston.
Remember when I said that at Oxford, Professor Locket told my class about the
existence of time travel?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bernard Preston was one of that
group
.’
Uncle Percy arched his eyebrows, as if welcoming the opportunity to reminisce.
‘There were nine of us in total: myself, Bernard, Stef Calloway, Mary Blyton,
Emerson Drake, Ricardo Nero, Malcolm Everidge, Ian Cuthbertson, and Sally
Everard. We called ourselves
The OTTERS
-
The Oxford Time Travel Exploration and Research Society.’

‘And are they all time travellers?’

‘They certainly were. Malcolm, Ian and Sally are
still active. Unfortunately, Emerson Drake was killed in a plane accident. Stef
passed away quite some time ago. Ricardo died last year, and Mary stopped
travelling when her children were born. And then, of course, there was Bernard.’

‘And how was he…’ Becky hesitated, ‘killed?’

Uncle Percy fell silent. ‘He was shot in the back.’

‘And you’re trying to find out who shot him?’

‘Something
like
that.’

‘So how does the manuscript fit in?’

‘It’s related to something I believe he was working
on.’

‘And what was that?’

‘You really are an inquisitive young lady, aren’t
you?’

‘Mum reckons I’m just plain nosey,’ Becky replied. ‘And
that I get it from my dad.’

Uncle Percy nodded. ‘Yes. I believe you do. Anyway, Bernard
was searching for something … searching through time.’

‘What?’

Uncle Percy hesitated for a moment, his voice
lowered to a whisper.
‘A relic.
A
very old, very important, very powerful relic.’

‘What relic?’

Uncle Percy tilted forwards, his eyes meeting hers.
‘The Golden Fleece.’

Becky had to suppress a laugh.
The Golden Fleece
– she’d heard of it,
of course. In fact, it was one of her dad’s favourite stories, one he would
often recite to her at bedtime. It was about a man called Jason who gathered
fifty of Ancient Greece’s mightiest warriors, the Argonauts, and embarked on a
dangerous quest to find the Golden Fleece, fighting dragons and other monsters
along the way. ‘But wasn’t the Golden Fleece just a -’

‘A fairy story?
A myth?’
Uncle Percy interrupted. ‘That’s certainly
what I thought until I studied Bernard’s research. No, incredible though it may
seem, there is quite compelling evidence to suggest that the Fleece existed.’

Becky wanted to continue her questions when a croaky
voice interjected.

‘Any more butties left?’ Joe said, yawning.

‘I think you’ve polished them off, young man,’ Uncle
Percy said, glancing at his fob watch. ‘Deary me, is that the time? I think
we’d better be getting back.’

But Becky didn’t want to go home yet. She wasn’t
nearly satisfied. How could she be?
A murder.
A mysterious document.
A search through
history for a fabulous relic.
She needed to know more. As her mum always
said, she
was
plain nosey.

Just like her dad.

*

The campervan reappeared back in the Time Room, the
return journey being as uneventful as the outward one. No headaches, no travel
sickness, no Elton John CDs – as far as Becky was concerned, it really was the
only way to travel.

Walking back to the Hall, Joe talked excitedly about
the trip, but Becky wasn’t really listening. Instead, she was processing all she’d
been told about The Golden Fleece and Bernard Preston’s murder.

As they entered the kitchen door, Becky was about to
dash to her room to start researching the Golden Fleece on her phone, when she
noticed that Uncle Percy had come to an abrupt halt, his gaze set on the far
wall. Fear engulfed her. ‘What’s going on, Uncle Percy?’

‘Silence, please,’ Uncle Percy said firmly, hand
raised
in a halting gesture.

Becky tracked his eye line to see a portrait on the
far wall had been slashed from left to right, exposing the canvas beneath.

Becky glanced anxiously at Joe, who had frozen to
the spot. Then, through the silence, she heard something.
A
crunching
sound.
Staring into
the parlour, a shiver shot down her spine. A plastic shopping bag hung from the
light fitting.

It was moving.

Straight away, Uncle Percy raced over, quickly
detached it and ripped it open.

Appearing at his side, Becky felt sick to her
stomach. Sabian was lying at the bottom of the bag, his jaws tied together with
rope, wriggling like a fish in a net. She choked back a scream.

Uncle Percy untied the rope and wrenched Sabian to
his chest, who yelped wildly with relief. ‘There, there, little one …
everything’s okay now.’

‘W -
who
could’ve -?’ Joe
began.

‘Shhh,’ Uncle Percy said, handing the trembling cub
to Becky. His face burned with anger. ‘I want you both to take Sabian to the
tree house. Find Will, I believe he’s with Milly in the archery field. Tell him
there’s trouble. And wait there until I come and get you.’

‘I’m not leaving you,’ Becky said defiantly.

Uncle Percy shook his head firmly. ‘Now’s not the
time for rebellion,’ he replied decisively. ‘You
must
do as I say. Get to the tree house.
Tell Will I need him. And stay there. RUN!’

‘But –’

‘Please, Becky, Maria and Jacob could be in grave
danger.’

Becky glanced fearfully at Joe. Although her every
instinct told her not to leave Uncle Percy’s side, she knew if there really was
trouble he needed
Will
and Milly. Seizing Joe’s arm, they
raced off.

*

Watching them leave, Uncle Percy’s face grew fierce.
Marching through the parlour and down the passageway, he stopped midway at a sword
hanging on the wall. Unsheathing it from its scabbard, he continued purposefully
into the Entrance Hall and soundlessly scanned the area.

Nothing.

Then he heard something: a muffled whimper. It was coming
from the morning room. The sword tightened in his grip and he paced over, teeth
gritted, and threw open the door.

What he saw repulsed him.

Maria and Jacob were lying on the floor, squirming,
their hands, feet and mouths bound by thick rope. Uncle Percy hurried over and
removed Maria’s binds. In a flood of tears, she flung her arms around his neck.

‘He is here.
HE
IS HERE!’

‘Who’s here?’ Uncle Percy replied, moving over and
untying Jacob.

‘Otto Kruger,’ Maria cried.

Uncle Percy’s body stiffened. ‘Otto Kruger?’ he repeated,
clearly recognising the name.

‘And three other
s
.
They are after the children.’

‘The children?’
Uncle Percy said disbelievingly.

‘Yes, sir,’ Jacob said, taking his panic-stricken
wife in his arms.

Uncle Percy struggled to catch his breath.
‘Why the children?’

‘He didn’t say,’ Jacob replied. ‘But he wanted to
know where they slept. You must take them at once. You must flee. This man is
evil in its purest form.’

‘I know only too well who Otto Kruger is, Jacob.’ Uncle
Percy stood up, the incredulity on his face replaced by rage. ‘But no one is
leaving. I can assure you of that.’ And with that, he walked over to a chest of
drawers on the far side of the room. He opened the top drawer and cupped two
small objects into the palm of his hand. Then he sharply moved towards the
door.

Jacob looked petrified. ‘Sir, they have guns.’

Uncle Percy didn’t blink an eye. ‘Guns are for amateurs...’
And with that, he sharply exited the room.

Swiftly, Uncle Percy went from door to door,
checking each room, but found each one empty. Then he heard footsteps. Whipping
round, sword raised, he saw Will emerge from the passageway, his bow and quiver
of arrows across his back, a sword in his right hand.

‘I was in the far field,’
Will
said. ‘I heard nothing.’

‘Not to worry, Will,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m glad
you’re here. There are four of them. They’ll be well-armed.’ Then, to his
frustration, he saw three familiar shapes race into the Entrance Hall. Becky
and Joe stood there, panting, Milly at their side. ‘I thought I told you to
stay at the tree-house.’

‘We wanted to help,’ Becky said.

‘That’s right,’ Joe added.

Uncle Percy’s expression softened. ‘Then go and
comfort Maria and Jacob in the morning room. They’ve been through a terrible
ordeal.’ He turned back to Will.
 
‘I’ve
checked the downstairs rooms. Let’s try upstairs. If we’re lucky, they’re still
here. Just remember, Will. They’re very dangerous.’

Fury crossed Will’s face.
‘As am
I.’

Uncle Percy moved swiftly upstairs, Will to his
rear. They stole down the corridor, and promptly stopped.

Becky’s bedroom door was ajar.
 
In a flash, he kicked the door open. His eyes
bulged. The room had been ransacked. Bed linen had been torn and strewn on the
floor, pillows ripped apart, drawers emptied, cabinets overturned, clothes and jewellery
scattered everywhere.

But there was no sign of Kruger.

Will left the room, only to return moments later.
‘Joe’s chamber has been ravaged, too.’

Uncle Percy stood there, confused, speechless. He
surveyed the chaos, desperately trying to make sense of what had happened. The
intruders had looted Becky and Joe’s rooms.
But why?

For the next hour, Uncle Percy and Will scoured the
rest of the Hall looking for clues that would explain why Kruger had broken
into the Hall. They found no other damage, with the exception of a painting
that had been ripped from the banquet room wall and impaled on a figurine. A portrait
of the German industrialist responsible for saving over a thousand Jews in the
Second World War and one of the finest men Uncle Percy had ever met.

It was a portrait of Oskar Schindler.

*

By early evening Becky and Joe had searched their
rooms thoroughly to find nothing had been taken. At seven, everyone gathered in
the parlour. It was a chilly night and a shocked Maria sat by the fire,
shivering, her blank eyes locked on the dancing flames, a thick woollen blanket
coiled tightly round her shoulders. Jacob sat alongside his wife, stroking her
hands tenderly. Will
stood
by the window, clearly
furious the intruders had escaped.