Wanted (Flick Carter Book 1) (35 page)

They pressed down on their bellies and crawled through the bushes to get a better view. Soon they heard the approach of the horses, and from their hiding place saw only the legs of the horses as they passed. One of the riders was talking to the other and they heard the end of a muttered conversation. ‘…If they’ve got any sense they won’t…’ The voice didn’t get any further.

‘Dad?’ Hannah shouted and launched herself from their hiding place.

The horses reined to a halt, and turned to face the commotion. On seeing Hannah, one of the two riders pulled back his hood. It was indeed Chas.

‘Dad!’ Hannah squealed. ‘Where have you been? You had us all so worried! I’ve been frantic!’

‘Hannah? Is that you? What are you doing here?’

‘We were exploring the ruins, and me and Amelia have been on lookout, and she spotted you coming and we hid.’

‘Amelia?’ said the other figure, suspiciously, in a voice Flick thought she recognised, ‘Who’s this Amelia?’ He pulled back the hood of his cloak.

‘Shea?’ Flick crawled out from her hiding place.

‘Flick?’

Now it was Chas’s turn to be confused. ‘O’Connell, what is this…?’

‘How did you find us?’ Flick asked. ‘How did you even know I was here?’ She rushed to the horse, half pulling him down in her eagerness to hold him in her arms. She’d been so worried about how she’d find him in this massive strange city, and yet he was right here. ‘Griffin tried to kill me, and now the Kingsmen are after me, I’ve been so scared,’ she blurted, tears welling up in her eyes.

Shea grabbed her in his arms. ‘It’s okay, you’re safe now,’ he cooed.

‘Hold on, you two know each other?’ Chas sounded confused.

Flick pulled away. Confusion threatened to mask the joy she’d felt at seeing him again. Had he not known she was here? So he hadn’t come for
her
at all?

Shea nodded, ‘Yeah, I know her, but…’

Hannah cut him off angrily, pulling Flick around. ‘And you know
him
?’ She stabbed a finger at Shea. ‘And is he the boy that you were talking about, when you said you and he might…’

Flick nodded again hurriedly, worried about what she might blurt out in front of Shea. ‘Yes, yes, but I don’t understand, what’s this about?’ But she saw the anger in Hannah’s eyes and recognised it. ‘Now wait, I never knew…’

‘I hate you, all of you!’ Hannah sobbed. She turned on her heels and fled into the ruins.

Flick was flabbergasted. She stood open mouthed, not knowing what to say. Shea held his arms out, helpless and looking stunned. She had disappeared from sight by the time they recovered.

‘Hannah!’ Flick and Shea called out together.

‘I’ll go after her,’ Flick said, and turned to follow Hannah into the ruins. She’d make it right somehow. After all she hadn’t known that Shea and Hannah were an item.

Chas held her back. ‘No, you stay here, both of you,’ he commanded. ‘I’ll go and find her. You two have done enough. Get back to the camp, and we’ll catch you up.’

‘But you don’t know where we are,’ Flick protested.

‘So tell me, young lady, and make it quick!’ Chas snapped.

Flick pointed. ‘That way. There’s a big flat concrete patch then grass and trees. We’re camped there.’

He nodded and spurred his horse after Hannah.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and she were…’ Flick began.

Shea went to take hold of her hands, but Flick pulled away. ‘We’d better get back to the camp,’ she said. ‘Jules will be wondering what’s happened.’ She set off back in the direction she’d pointed to Chas, leaving Shea to follow.

‘Jules, we’re back,’ Flick shouted. There was no one about and Flick supposed that the older woman was busy with something inside the vardo. The cooking fire was lit and there was a pot of something hanging over the flames.

She looked back at Shea and shrugged. ‘She must be around somewhere.’

Shea tied his horse to the stake, next to the grazing cart horse. ‘Mrs Foster, it’s me, Shea O’Connell.’ He called. ‘It’s okay, you can come out.’

Flick climbed up onto the front porch of the vardo and peered inside the door. It was empty. ‘Jules, it’s me, Flick, you can come out; it’s safe,’ she called. There was silence. Where could she have gone? Flick was getting worried.

Shea jumped up beside her. ‘Anything?’

‘No. Maybe she’s hiding in the secret compartment under the bed. Help me lift the mattress.’

They pushed the bedding back and found the brass rings embedded in the boards beneath it, but when they pulled open the panel and peered inside, it was empty.

‘Did she say she was going anywhere?’ Shea asked.

‘No. Not to me,’ Flick said.

‘Maybe she went to the woods, and fell down or hurt herself?’ Shea suggested.

‘Well, let’s go check then.’ Flick grabbed her bow and arrows from inside the vardo, and the knife from her pack. ‘That’s funny, I thought I had six arrows, but there’s only five!’ she called.

The mystery of the missing arrow would have to wait. She handed the knife to Shea. ‘In case,’ she said. They crept into the woods, weapons at the ready, calling out for Jules at frequent intervals. But no one answered. Before long they’d come to the far side of the band of trees and saw more open grassland. But no sign of Jules.

‘This is hopeless,’ Flick said. ‘We should go back.’

Shea agreed. ‘Chas did say we weren’t to leave the camp,’ he added. ‘Although that was before…’ His voice trailed off.

They trudged back to the camp in silence, half expecting to see Chas, Jules and Hannah all standing there waiting for them. But the place was just as deserted as before.

The aroma of cooking reached their nostrils from the abandoned pot on the fire, and Flick now realised just how hungry she was. She used the end of her bow to flip the lid off the pot, and the scent of stewed meat now hit them with full force.

‘Smells like it’s pretty much done,’ she said. ‘It’ll burn if it’s left over the fire much longer. That makes it even stranger. Jules wouldn’t go off and leave a pot cooking on the fire, not unless she expected to be back quickly.’

‘It’s odd, Chas isn’t back yet. I thought he would have been here by now,’ Shea said. ‘Hannah couldn’t have gone very far before he went after her.’

‘Do you suppose something has happened to them too?’ Flick asked.

‘What, Jules disappears, and then Chas and Hannah disappear? That’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?’ Shea replied.

‘I feel guilty saying this, but we should eat some of this stew before it’s cooked solid,’ Flick said. She disappeared into the vardo to get bowls and spoons.

‘Don’t be,’ Shea called, ‘Jules will only tell us off for not eating when she gets back.’

‘I suppose you’re right, but I still feel guilty,’ Flick called. As she clattered about in the cupboards, there was a thud from outside, and one of the horses snorted.

‘Get down! Now!’ Shea shouted. There was panic in his voice.

‘What’s going on?’ Flick asked as she emerged with the bowls. She squinted. Shea wasn’t in sight. Fear welled up inside her; had he disappeared too?

‘Someone’s shooting! Get down!’ Shea’s voice sounded urgent and came from down low, behind the vardo.

The familiar knot of fear tugged at Flick’s throat, and the bowls clattered to the floor, forgotten, as she threw herself onto the ground.

‘Over here,’ Shea hissed.

Flick crawled round to the back of the wagon. ‘What’s going on?’

Shea pointed beyond the vardo, towards the low ruined brick walls. Flick looked cautiously out from behind the wagon.

‘Can’t see anyone. They’re either well hidden or gone.’ She ducked back. ‘Do you suppose this has anything to do with what happened to the others?’ There was no reply. ‘Shea?’ She looked around. Shea wasn’t there.

‘Shea?’ Her voice quivered. Her heart was pounding. What was going on? She was about to scream his name when he slid around from the other side of the vardo. His hand and arm was red. She realised it was covered in blood. She stared at him, wide eyed and open mouthed.

‘Got it, ‘ he said. Then he saw the look of panic in her eyes. ‘Calm down, I’m okay.’

‘I saw the blood and I thought you’d been shot,’ Flick said, sobbing from a sense of relief.

‘Not me. The horse,’ Shea said. ‘It’s dead. But I got the arrow.’

Flick snatched the arrow. ‘There’s something tied to it,’ she said, ‘a note.’ A scrap of paper had been rolled around the shaft and tied with string. Then she noticed the coloured threads that fastened the fletchings and realised with horror whose arrow this was.

‘It’s mine,’ she said. ‘This is my arrow, Whoever fired it has been here, in the camp. You don’t suppose…?’

Shea cut her off. ‘Just read the note. Let’s leave the speculation for later,’ he said.

Flick untied the note from the shaft and unrolled the paper. She read it in silence, and without a word she handed it to Shea, who also read it. It said:

Hello Felicity,

If you want to see your friends alive

Be at the old Aerodrome

At dawn.

Bring the boy.

NO KINGSMEN.

‘WHAT I DON’T understand,’ Flick said, ‘is who the hell knows I’m here, and what is this about?’ It seemed clear that someone had grabbed Jules and the others in order to get her attention. Well they had her attention, but she didn’t know who “they” were, or even where the old aerodrome was. She snatched the message back from Shea and waved it at him. ‘Do you know anything about this? Her eyes were daggers of ice, cold and hard.

‘Griffin,’ Shea said quietly.

‘What about him? He must have given up long ago and gone back to Faringdon,’ Flick said. ‘Even the Kingsmen haven’t found me.’

‘He’s here. In Bristol.’

‘WHAT? How? I thought you said it would be safe here.’ Flick’s voice rose in panic. After all Mayor Griffin had done to her, she thought she was finally rid of him.

‘I only found out a few days ago,’ Shea explained. ‘There’s an old abandoned aerodrome–it’s where planes used to take off and land before The Collapse–north of the city, and that’s where he’s holed up with a small army.’ He held Flick’s hands reassuringly. ‘He’s here to buy weapons from the Scavs. I don’t think he actually knew you were coming.’

‘So how did he find out?’ Flick’s eyes narrowed, ‘How did
you
find out?’

‘Chas and my dad go back a long way,’ said Shea. ‘When I heard he was in town I looked him up, and he invited me out to the camp. Said he had someone he wanted me to talk to.’

‘Me?’

‘Yeah. But he didn’t say who you were. Until you jumped out of that bush I had no idea.’

‘Which leaves us no wiser how Griffin found out.’

‘Spies, I expect,’ Shea said. ‘Scavs spy on Kingsmen, Kingsmen spy on Scavs, and everyone spies on strangers.’

‘The third man!’ Flick exclaimed.

‘What?’

‘When we spotted you and Chas on your horses, I thought I caught a glimpse of someone else, a third man. At the time I thought I’d imagined it, but now I’m not so sure.’

‘And they grabbed Hannah when she ran off, and Chas when he chased her,’ Shea said

‘And came here and took Jules and the arrow at the same time?’

‘Yeah, there must have been at least two of them.’

‘Well, I guess that’s it,’ Flick said, slumping back against a wheel of the vardo. ‘He’s won; he’s beaten us. If we go, he’s going to kill us; if we don’t, he’ll kill Hannah and Jules and Chas.’

She took the arrow and threw it across the field in frustration. Shea put his arm around her and she leaned in to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She sniffed a tear away. Shea stroked her hair and she snuggled closer.

‘We should eat that stew before it gets cold,’ she said.

‘I don’t know that I really want it,’ said Shea.

‘Me neither, but… Jules made it and, well, if he kills her… I don’t know, this could be the last thing she did, and it seems… disrespectful.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Shea said.

Flick got up and retrieved the bowls from where she’d dropped them. She ladled out the stew and handed a bowl to Shea.

‘Do you know how to get to this aerodrome?’ she asked while they were eating.

Shea nodded. ‘North side of town, right out by the old M5 trackway. Must be a good ten miles from here.’

‘I guess we’ll need to take your horse then. I don’t suppose it’s been broken for a harness?’

‘Shouldn’t think so.’

‘That’s a shame. Means we’ll have to leave the vardo behind. I hope it’ll be all right.’

‘I just hope
we’ll
be all right,’ Shea said.

‘Yeah. Come on, let’s get packed. I don’t want us to be riding in the dark. If it’s going to take us a couple of hours and we have to be there by dawn…’

They made up packs of bedding and as many knives as they could carry. Flick found a heavy hooded cloak, which she put on over her leather jacket. It might be summer, but the nights could still be chilly, and they’d be looking for someone wearing leather, not a cloak. The rest of the stew went into pots, and they packed those, along with the remains of the bread and fruit. ‘That’ll do us for breakfast,’ Flick said grimly, ‘I don’t suppose we’ll need anything after that.’

‘Ever the optimist,’ said Shea. ‘Come on.’

They saddled up Shea’s horse and arranged their packs on its back. Shea climbed into the saddle, and Flick got up behind him.

‘We’ll stay outside the ruins,’ Shea said. ‘There’s an old road that we can follow; it’s pretty well grassed over and a bit rough in places. Nobody comes out here so we shouldn’t run into any trouble.’

‘What’ll we do when we get there?’ Flick asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Shea, ‘I guess we’ll have to see what we find. You can guarantee they’ve got spies out on the approach roads though, so we’d better be careful.’

For two hours they rode along the trackways at the edge of the city. If they saw someone, they just put their hoods up and kept going. ‘Look like you belong, and they will ignore you,’ Shea said. He was right; nobody paid them any attention.

When they reached a wide well kept road, Shea cautioned Flick again. ‘We need to be extra careful now; this is one of the main access roads into the city, and there could be watchers, even this far out.’ They waited for a wagon to go past, heading into town, before crossing. After another couple of miles, they came to a disused railway line.