The Swiss Family RobinZOM (Book 5) (7 page)

The family were up soon after Ernest’s idea had been shared with them, before even the sun had fully risen. Bill and Fritz headed into the jungle and cut down several mature bamboo trees. They lashed them to Lightfoot and Lightning and dragged them into the clearing.

They took careful measurements and set to shaping and cutting out the pieces of bamboo, identifying the thickest, strongest sections. Liz, Ernest and Jack drilled holes and passed woven vines through them. Francis kept watch along with Fritz’s bird Beast high in the treehouse. He stood up, peering deep into the jungle. Beast screeched.

“They’re coming!” Francis said.

The foliage rustled, the undergrowth snapping. The Robinsons reached for their weapons. Mutilated bodies, grazed, cut and dirtied, flashed in the foliage. They made the same hideous wet flapping noise that rose into a cacophony.

The cattle in their pen went wild, running and dashing in different directions, unsure where to go, but knowing their current location was not safe. Then the snapping twigs and rush of foliage dissipated. Only once the animals stopped baying, snorting and
meh
ing did the Robinsons lower their weapons.

“They’re getting closer,” Bill said.

“We have to hurry,” Liz said.

They bent down over their worktops and got back to sawing, chopping and screwing the armour into shape. It was nearing midday when Bill led the best behaved goat out from the pen and tied her to a hitching post. He picked up a small breastplate made from bamboo. Bill had screwed reinforced strips of metal into it to strengthen it. He wrapped the straps around the goat’s front legs and chest, and then led the goat around on her lead.

“She seems comfortable, don’t you think?” Bill said to Liz, picking up the pace and making the goat run.

“Yes,” Liz said. “Does the armour come in pink?”

Next, Bill affixed armour over the goat’s back and haunches, as well as specially-designed blinkers. The goat would run a mile if she saw what she was facing.

“She looks badass,” Jack said. “We should paint some skulls on the front.”

“Yeah,” Fritz said, rolling his eyes. “That’ll demoralise the Spinners.”

They put the armour on the other animals they would be riding – Lightning, Lightfoot, Herdy, and Valiant. Sometimes the armour rubbed the soft skin around the animals’ legs. The family shaved off any rough edges to make the armour as comfortable as possible. Then the family members put their own armour on. They flinched when they put their boots on – the blisters on their feet hadn’t healed yet.

Liz climbed onto Lightning’s back and strapped a short shield to her forearm. The zebra swished her tail and snorted with excitement, no doubt expecting another race. Fritz climbed onto Lightfoot’s back. The donkey showed no such excitement. Bill took to his chariot, the four goats in front ducking their heads down and chewing on the grass at their hooves. Ernest made to climb onto Valiant’s back, but the great bull turned and trotted away. Ernest chased after him. He put his foot into a stirrup and began to pull himself up, but Valiant trotted away again. Ernest hopped on his free leg before losing his footing.

“He doesn’t want me to ride him,” Ernest said.

“Then you’ll have to ride something else,” Bill said.

“Like what?” Ernest said.

Gwek!

“No!” Ernest said. “I won’t ride her. Not again.”

“She’s the fastest creature we have,” Bill said. “She could do a lot of good.”

“We haven’t got any armour for her,” Ernest said. “We’d be dead within thirty seconds.”

Bill picked up a set of armour plates.

“I made some for her,” he said.

“That was fortunate,” Ernest said drily.

“I thought it prudent,” Bill said. “You know how cantankerous Valiant can be.”

“Shall I ride Valiant?” Francis said, climbing down the treehouse ladder wearing his armour. “He’ll listen to me.”

“Francis, we need you to stay here and guard the fort,” Liz said.

“But it’s not a fort!” Francis said. “It’s a treehouse! I want to come with you.”

“You can’t come,” Bill said. “Not today.”

“Not today, not yesterday, not every day!” Francis said, screwing up his face. “Why can’t I come?”

“One day you will come with us and you’ll wish you didn’t have to,” Bill said.

“Jack was my age when he first went out hunting with you,” Francis said.

“Jack was a year older than you,” Liz said.

“I’ll trade places with him,” Ernest said.

“You’re not helping, Ernest,” Liz said.

“But no one else can ride Valiant – he won’t let you!” Francis said. “I can ride him and I can help – all of you. I would have won the race if it wasn’t for the jaguar!”

“You are helping us,” Bill said softly, “by staying here and protecting our home. Be our guard. The animals and plants need you.”

Francis turned away.

“I’m not a child anymore,” he said. “I’ve seen what’s out there, what keeps trying to get us. I want to fight them.”

“You will fight them,” Bill said. “But not today. It’s not because you’re not big and strong and brave – you are. It’s just that we need to be able to hold our shields up against the Spinners.”

“I can do that!” Francis said.

Bill pressed his lips together.

“Lift and carry that shield,” Bill said, pointing to a solid block of wood as tall as Francis and twice as wide.

“Bill-” Liz said.

Bill waved Liz away.

“Try,” Bill said.

“All right,” Francis said.

He pouted and grabbed the shield. He bent his knees and lifted it with both arms. They shook with the effort. It came out of the soil by an inch. Francis put it back down.

“I did it!” he said. “See?”

“Now bring it over here,” Bill said, pointing to the ground at his feet.

Francis eyed the distance. It was short, no more than four or five feet. He licked his lips and gripped the shield handle with both hands. His face turned red with the strain. He managed to lift the shield, his whole body shaking. He took a step forward. He gasped, and dropped it. Francis looked at his feet in shame. Bill snapped his reins and approached Francis. He laid his hands on his son’s small shoulders.

“You will come with us one day,” he said. “I promise. But it will be when you’re ready. You’re too important to us all to lose. Okay?”

Francis nodded, wiping his snotty nose.

“Hey, chin up,” Bill said. “You’ve got a very important job to do.”

Francis nodded, his smile broken.

“Let’s move out,” Bill said.

Francis watched his family leave with tears in his eyes.

The animals were slow and skittish at first. They were not used to having their eyes covered, and jumped like they’d been stung with each unexpected rustle from the underbrush. Worse was the fact the animals could not avoid obvious obstacles automatically. The riders had to lead with great care, as if the animal was a part
of them, aware of every obstacle and recess they came to. But after an hour of trudging through the jungle, negotiating their way through the tree limbs that bore down on them, thick and oppressive and sinister, rider and steed alike learned to trust the other.

Flap, flap, flap, flap.

Lightning and Lightfoot skittered slightly, alarmed by the sound. The goats and Clementine, normally the most skittish animals, appeared to be calm and relaxed. Every member of the family gripped their reins tight.

“Everyone take your position,” Bill said.

The family formed into a line, standing shoulder to shoulder. They waited as the snap of foliage grew louder, and semi-decomposed flesh flashed at them from between gaps in the trees.

“Let’s get one on his own,” Bill said. “We can practice if we team up on him.”

Dirt was kicked up from an unseen limb to their right, like a child’s wellington in a puddle. Another Spinner struck a low-hanging tree branch, snapping it in half, and all the time there was the whirlwind sound:

Flap, flap. Flap, flap.

Then a Spinner, tall and lank, burst through the foliage.

“Ya!” Bill said, snapping his reins.

The other riders followed his lead, darting forward. Bill sped up quickly, the chariot he rode taking the uneven surface with ease. The cartwheels rolled into a recess in the soil. Bill bent his knees to absorb the worst of the shock. At the last moment the Spinner began to turn in another direction, but Bill was already running at full speed. The goats lowered their heads naturally when they ran, and smacked hard into the Spinner, knocking it back. Bill snapped his reins and moved aside.

“Form up behind me!” Liz said, and Ernest, Fritz and Jack made a line behind their mother.

Liz charged at the Spinner just as it was beginning to get back onto its broken limbs. She knocked it back another five feet. Lightning grunted at the collision, rose up onto her back legs, and kicked at the fallen Spinner, her hooves cracking its skull and snapping the last of the skin that kept its head attached. The face rolled across the ground, eyes blinking and winking, nostrils flaring, like a man with severe ticks. Liz led Lightning away, and now it was Fritz’s turn. He pummelled the Spinner, causing it to skid along the ground. It flung out an arm, catching Lightfoot’s back leg, but he escaped, unscathed.

One after another they hit the Spinner, driving him back, back, back, through the foliage, up the inclines, and down the crevasses. Those not immediately next in line circled around to join the back of the queue, working their necks hard, keeping an eye out for any other Spinners that might burst out at any moment.

Clementine
gwek
ed and hurled her weight at the Spinner, knocking it into a tree. Leaves rained down, settling on the family’s shoulders. The creature’s limbs were broken and smashed, useless if it had been human, but the Spinner continued to twitch and vibrate, getting back up again.

“Wait for it to move away from the tree,” Bill said.

The Spinner got up, limped, and the moment it was away from the tree, Fritz shuttled into it, hitting it hard in the chest. If it hadn’t been such a despicable, unnatural creature Bill might have felt sorry for the beast. But it was mindless, incapable of even the most basic human emotions. It was nothing but a dangerous animal, and dangerous animals needed to be put down. Bill rose up in his stirrups, catching the smell of brine on the air.

“We’re getting close to the sea,” he said. “Keep going. We’re almost there.”

Jack ran Herdy forward. She threw her great hefty head up as she did so, lifting the Spinner off its limbs and over a thick bush. The Spinner stood on the cliff edge and rolled back and forth on its heels like a cornered animal.

“Careful when you deliver the final blow,” Bill said. “The last thing we want is to go over the edge ourselves. A light tap is enough.”

It was Ernest’s turn. He stepped forward with Clementine.

“Remember Clementine can’t see,” Bill said. “She won’t stop automatically if you don’t pull on the reins.”

Ernest took a deep breath and clucked out the corner of his mouth. He pushed Clementine forward at a gentle trot, and then increased speed at the last moment, connecting with the Spinner, knocking it over the side, its limbs flailing out to grab something, anything. It spun end over end, down into the frothy sea below.

Ernest pulled the reins hard, bringing Clementine to a skidding stop, inches from the edge. Ernest could see the crashing waves below, and the twirling figure of the Spinner as it hit the rocks and exploded in a burst of red. The waves brushed the lumps against the rocks, the pieces wriggling and writhing like a fish out of water. Most sank beneath the surface.

“Good work,” Bill said, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “Fritz, Ernest, Jack, you form one team. Liz and I will form another. We’ll do as we did just now. Strike, and then come back around. Strike again, and come back around. It’ll be a lot tougher when there’s more than one of them. Try to break them apart and concentrate on one at a time, if you can. And keep your eyes open for other Spinners that might creep up on you from behind. These things are stupid, but they’re fast. Don’t underestimate them. Any questions?”

There were none. The atmosphere was thick with tension.

“Good luck,” Bill said.

They split into two teams, in sight of each other as they scouted the same area of jungle.

“Are you scared?” Jack said to his older brothers.

“Nope,” Fritz said.

“Ernest?” Jack said.

“No,” Ernest said, his eyes moving like a pair of tossed marbles.

“Me neither,” Jack said. His voice had a shiver in it.

Flap. Flap, flap.

Knuckles grew white around reins. Hoof steps became softer, taking smaller, more careful strides. Fritz waved his arm, catching Bill and Liz’s attention. He pointed in the direction of the
flap
sound. It came from beyond a rise six feet above them. A torrent of snapping branches and crushed leaves underfoot assaulted them, like a stampede was heading right for them. Jack’s mouth grew dry. Herdy shuffled from one foot to another. Dust and fragments of foliage drifted up over the rise and rained down on the family. Whatever was coming, it was big.

The sound grew in volume as they approached, closer and closer. Then the foliage exploded. Six Spinners fell from the rise, writhing even while they were falling, smashing into the earth. They were up and moving instantly, regardless of broken bones or injury.

Fritz waited, watching, just as Bill and Liz did on the other side of the clearing. Another two Spinners fell from the rise and rushed in random directions.

“Fritz, hurry!” Jack said. “We need to start!”

“No,” Fritz said. “We’ll take our time and pick the right mark.”

Bill burst forward, ramming a Spinner that had drifted away from the pack, knocking it farther from its comrades. Liz was hot on his heels. She didn’t run straight for the Spinner, but instead took a route between two trees to change the angle of approach. The Spinner was back on its limbs and began to spin away when Liz rammed it, knocking it down again. Bill had already circled around and was coming in for another strike.

Liz kept an eye on their backs. The other Spinners were preoccupied with their own activities, fighting and tearing at each other. She glanced over at her children, tore her eyes away, and then took off into the jungle in pursuit of her quarry.

“Fritz!” Jack said. “We can’t just sit here! We need to do something now!”

But Fritz wouldn’t be hurried. The Spinners were bunched together in a single group, scrapping like a gang of angry bikers.

“There!” Fritz said. “That one!”

A Spinner had been forced out of the group by a pair of larger Spinners. It revolved in place and then began to head away. Fritz surged up the incline, picking up speed quickly. Lightfoot whinnied as he struck the Spinner, hammering it onto its front. Fritz moved aside as Ernest bashed it next, and then Jack, on Herdy, who, with her great weight, cracked the creature back twice as far as the others.

They soon caught up with Bill and Liz, who were having trouble keeping their quarry going in the direction they wanted. Liz pulled back as Fritz’s Spinner almost side-swiped her. Ernest slammed into the Spinner, forcing it aside.

“Careful, Mother!” he said.

Liz clucked out the corner of her mouth. Lightning trotted forward. Liz looked around for Bill but found no sign of him. Her saddle creaked in the silence.

Smash!

Something crashed through a fern to Liz’s left. Lightning rose up on her hind legs in surprise, front legs clawing at the air. Liz pressed herself against the zebra’s mane. The Spinner flailed its limbs like an old man having fallen on his back and couldn’t get back up.

“There you are!” Bill said to Liz, emerging from behind a thick copse of green.

The two teams jostled for position as they forced their Spinners back. Herdy overdid it, knocking the Spinner ten feet, where it struck Bill and Liz’s target. They interlocked, one hand grasping the other, and pirouetted in a duet. Liz raced forward and pounded Fritz’s Spinner, breaking them apart.

“We’ll take this one!” Bill said.

“Hey! That’s ours!” Fritz said.

“Sorry,” Bill said, not sounding sorry at all. “When needs must.”

Fritz’s team took control of Bill’s Spinner. After another fifteen minutes of battering and cajoling, the family emerged with their quarries onto the broad flat rock of the cliff edge.

Bill and Liz thumped their Spinner over the cliff first. They were treated to a satisfying
SPLAT!
as the Spinner slammed into the rocks below. Jack dealt the final blow to their Spinner, which made a rasping noise as it fell.

“One to me,” Jack said. “Zero for Ernest and Fritz!”

“Like you did it all by yourself!” Ernest said.

“I hit it last,” Jack said.

“This isn’t football,” Ernest said.

“All right, lads,” Bill said. “There’s no need to keep score.”

Jack still had a self-satisfied look on his face.

“Besides,” Bill said, “it was my Spinner, so technically it’s my kill.”

“Sorry to rain on your parade,” Fritz said. “But I didn’t hear a splat noise that time.”

He was peering over the side. He turned to look at Jack with a smile on his face.

“Looks like you’re on zero too,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Jack said, joining Fritz.

“It didn’t hit the rocks,” Fritz said. “Look!”

The Spinner spun through the water, like a skimming stone with a turbo thrust. It disappeared beneath the surface and then popped back up again, twisting through the water. The others joined in looking down on the creature far below.

“It’s coming back!” Liz said.

The Spinner turned back on itself in a haphazard zigzag toward New Switzerland. It climbed onto the shore and headed into the jungle.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Bill said. “We’ll just have to round it up again later.”

“Goody,” Liz said drily.

The family turned, hearts heavy with disappointment, and headed back into the jungle.