The Time Hunters and the Sword of Ages Page 2

  ‘Your boyfriend?’

  Becky gave an involuntary laugh that sounded like a pig. ‘My brother, Joe,’ she said. ‘He’s in detention.’

  Dan revealed the kind of smile usually reserved for film stars or professional footballers. ‘Joe Mellor. Yeah, he was fighting with that idiot, Steven Hallet. I hear he was winning, too, before Miss Canner split up the scrap. Not bad for a Year 8 kid.’

  ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘I’ll wait with you if you’d like.’

  ‘Err, sure.’

  Setting his bag on the bench, Dan sat down beside her. ‘I’m Dan. Dan Hardman.’

  ‘Becky Mellor.’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Dan said. ‘I used to deliver newspapers to your house in Lindon Crescent. Your mum gave me a tenner tip last Christmas. That was well nice of her. She seems really nice.’

  ‘She’s all right.’

  ‘I also saw those pics you posted of your uncle on Facebook. He’s got that dead cool Rolls Royce, hasn’t he?’

  Becky couldn’t believe he’d seen anything she’d posted on Facebook. ‘It’s a Silver Ghost.’

  ‘It’s wicked.’

  ‘It is … yeah.’

  ‘I wish I had an uncle like that,’ Dan said. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Uncle Percy. He’s pretty cool.’

  ‘And does he really live in that massive house?’

  ‘It’s called Bowen Hall,’ Becky replied. ‘It’s well nice.’

  Dan took a long, surprisingly deep breath. ‘Listen, I don’t normally do this, and say no if you want to, but would you fancy going for a coffee sometime?’ He paused. ‘With me…’ he added as though he hadn’t made himself clear.

  It was then Becky realised his strange behaviour was due to something completely unexpected. He was nervous. Dan Hardman was asking her out. And he was nervous about it.

  Becky didn’t know how to respond. ‘I don’t know.’

  It was Dan’s turn to look embarrassed. ‘I mean, forget it. It was just … I don’t know … it might’ve been nice, but forget it.’

  Becky’s pulse was racing. ‘No. I mean, yes, it might be nice. I’d like to go. But only if you would.’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you would.’

  ‘It’s a date then.’

  Becky felt her stomach lurch. ‘Okay.’

  Dan looked relieved. ‘I’ll send you a message on Facebook and you can let me know when you want to go.’

  ‘Cool,’ Becky nodded.

  Just then, another voice filled the corridor. ‘Hey up.’ Joe walked towards them, his school tie dangling loose around his neck, his shirt hanging out of his trousers.

  Panicking, Becky cast him a surprisingly toothy smile. ‘Hi, Joe,’ she said in an overly cheerful voice. ‘How are you?’

  Joe knew at once something was wrong. ‘I’m sound. Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ Becky said. ‘Why’d you ask?’

  Joe studied her closely. ‘Because you’re as red as a beetroot.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are,’ Joe replied. ‘You’re sweating cobs, too. What’s the matter - are you sick?’

  ‘No,’ Becky replied, trying desperately to stop her reply becoming a snarl.

  Dan stood up hastily and scooped up his bag. ‘Anyway, I’d better get going.’

  ‘Okay,’ Becky said, avoiding eye contact with him. ‘Bye.’

  Dan nodded at Joe. ‘See you, mate.’

  ‘See you.’ Joe watched Dan leave the corridor. ‘What’s goin’ on?’

  ‘Nowt,’ Becky replied offhandedly.

  ‘There must be coz normally you’d rip me a new one for getting detention when we’re going to Bowen Hall.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Becky muttered. ‘No big deal.’

  ‘Were you being nice to me because of Dan Hardman?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You don’t fancy him, do you?’ Joe asked. ‘Because if you do, you haven’t got a cat in hell’s chance.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘All the girls fancy him,’ Joe grinned. ‘And some of those in his year are well fit. You’re way out of your league.’

  Becky looked furious. ‘Out of my league?’

  ‘God, yeah. He’s like One Direction handsome. And you’re – well – you’re just you …’

  Becky was about to explode when the strangest thing happened. A small cat-like animal with silky brown fur rushed past them, growling playfully, its open mouth revealing two long fangs much longer than those of any ordinary cat.

  Horrified, Becky looked at Joe, whose face had frozen with shock. ‘Sabian!’

  ‘Bloody Hell!’ Joe said. ‘Get him!’

  Becky set off like a rocket. Shoulder to shoulder, she and Joe sprinted down the corridor, the patter of Sabian’s paws echoing against the hard wooden floor. Becky watched Sabian skid to a halt, before turning right and scampering up a flight of stairs.

  Becky’s heart threatened to burst from her mouth. She knew teachers always remained long after the school day had ended, and, if they were caught, how could she and Joe possibly explain away the existence of a twelve thousand year old Sabre-tooth tiger cub?

  What on earth was Uncle Percy thinking? And where exactly was he?

  Becky and Joe powered up the stairs, anxious not to lose sight of Sabian’s tail.

  Floor one.

  Floor two.

  Floor three.

  Floor four.

  By the time she had reached the fifth and final floor, Becky’s limbs were on fire. Not stopping to draw breath, her eyes scanned the corridor ahead. Sabian was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Where is he?’ Joe panted heavily, leaning against the bannister.

  Suddenly, a faint yelp clipped the air.

  Looking round, Becky spied Sabian’s silhouette beside a door that was slightly ajar. Racing over, a stitch welling in her side, she watched him disappear through the doorway.

  ‘That’s the roof,’ Joe panted, catching her up.

  Tentatively, they followed Sabian outside. A golden sun filled the deep blue sky. Scanning the area, Becky could feel the baking corrugated iron roof through her shoes.

  ‘If we’re caught,’ Joe said, ‘we are in such deep –’

  Before he could finish, a throaty cough sounded from their rear. Becky and Joe swivelled round. A tall, slender figure, elegantly dressed in a pristine suit, strolled into the light, his thin mouth curved in an ugly sneer. The man was sliding a lifeless Sabian into a leather satchel.

  ‘Good afternoon, kiddies,’ Emerson Drake said. ‘Long time, no see…’

  Chapter 3

  Falling Down

  Becky fought back the tears as she watched Drake close the satchel. She knew immediately what had happened. Sabian had been murdered and transformed into a Cyrobot just to get to her attention.

  Drake seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Don’t upset yourself, Rebecca. It isn’t your furry chum from Bowen Hall,’ he said. ‘Your uncle’s security measures prevent my entering Bowen Hall’s grounds, otherwise I would’ve happily got the real thing, but no …’ he nodded at the satchel, ‘I found this cub wandering the plains of Lagoa Santa in the Cenozoic Era … so nothing to worry your pretty head over.’

  ‘But you still killed it!’

  ‘Well, to employ a cliché - you can’t make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.’

  ‘You’re sick in the head.’

  ‘Sticks and stones, my dear...’ Drake walked to the roof’s edge and looked out. ‘How nice to be back in Manchester. You know, it’s always held great fascination for me – the world’s first industrialised city, the site of the first splitting of the atom, and the birthplace of the modern computer. Of course, it’s also home to some of the most notorious serial killers in history … ‘ He chuckled to himself. ‘It must be all the rain.’ His face brightened as he turned back to Becky and Joe. ‘And, of course, I’ve always had a so
ft spot for Manchester United.’

  ‘That explains so much,’ Joe growled.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Becky asked. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘A question worthy of Aristotle himself,’ Drake replied. ‘What do I want? Well, in short, everything. And I believe I’m well on my way to achieving that goal. However, why do you assume I’m here for myself, that I’m always so self-serving? I really think you’ve misjudged me.’

  ‘We haven’t,’ Becky replied coolly. ‘You’re an evil, psychotic, lying, devious scumbag. Simple as…’

  Drake shot Becky a look of feigned indignation. ‘Oh, Rebecca, I might be many things but I’m not a liar. And therein rests the irony … ’ He paused, leaning in slightly as if revealing a confidence. ‘Lies surround you - surround both of you … a web of glorious lies, and you have no idea. You just live quite happily, content in your ignorance, blissfully unaware of the truth, unwitting pawns in someone else’s game, blindly trusting those you really shouldn’t trust…’

  Becky’s disgust was fleetingly replaced by confusion.

  ‘You see, I’ve been doing my research,’ Drake continued. ‘In fact, I’ve been so fascinated putting pieces of a quite elaborate jigsaw together, I’ve neglected hunting down the last two Eden Relics. But I’ve not been able to stop myself. It’s been such fun. Still, I’ve nearly completed the jigsaw now and believe me it paints a most illuminating picture.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Becky snapped.

  ‘Oh, it’s not for me to say,’ Drake replied. ‘But let me say this – you live in your own Plato’s cave, only seeing the world you’re presented with and not the world as it is, spoon-fed a fictitious reality by the people you trust most like a mother feeds a baby.’

  Joe fixed him with an angry glare. ‘Are you gonna try something or are you just gonna bore us to death with crap?’

  ‘Try something?’ Drake’s face-hardened. ‘I’ve merely come to deliver a message, boy. And as matter of fact, it’s a message for you.’

  ‘Go on,’ Joe said.

  ‘It’s a private message,’ Drake replied. ‘For your ears only.’

  Joe didn’t move. ‘Anything you want to say, you can say to both of us.’

  ‘Then you don’t get it,’ Drake replied. ‘Come here. I’ll whisper it to you.’

  ‘Don’t, Joe!’ Becky said.

  Joe ignored her. In three steps, he was standing toe to toe with Drake. ‘What’s your message then?’ he asked. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

  Drake leaned in, his eyes wild. ‘My message is this … you should be!’ In a flash, he had flipped Joe round, clamped his arm around his neck and wrenched him close, choking him.

  ‘LET GO OF HIM!’ Becky screamed.

  ‘It’s your fault I’m doing this, Rebecca,’ Drake hissed, tightening his grip. ‘I’m concerned your telekinesis has developed to a point where you could prevent me going anywhere, while this boy alerts your uncle in the car park. And that wouldn’t be good for me. However, I think I can make a safe retreat if your powers are otherwise … engaged.’

  ‘Just let him go!’

  ‘As you wish, Rebecca…’ With surprising strength, Drake hoisted Joe in the air. Then he threw him off the roof.

  Like a bullet, Becky sprinted to the edge. She looked down. Joe was falling fast, the hard ground rising to smash his body into pieces. Heart pounding, she extended her hand, at the same time focussing on him with all her might. Immediately, a peculiar feeling swept her skull, like warm water, every nerve in her body on fire.

  Joe thrashed and flailed as he clawed at nothing. But then with a sudden jerk, he stopped mid-air, six feet or so from the ground.

  Becky guided him down, until his feet met the path beneath. Then she collapsed to her knees, panting, every bit of strength deserting her. To her left, she heard a loud crack and knew Drake had gone, his portravella taking him to who knew where. With renewed energy, she leapt to her feet and charged across the rooftop, through the open door. Flying down the corridor, everything a blur, she hurtled down the stairs, and was soon charging down the exit corridor to the world outside. Crashing through the front door, she forked right along the north face of the school and saw Joe. Flooded with relief, she approached him. ‘Are you all right?’

  Joe didn’t answer.

  It was then she noticed he looked troubled, his eyes angled downward. Tracing his eye-line, her stomach churned. Dan Hardman was sitting crumpled on the grass, his face empty of colour. He was staring up at Joe as if he was from another planet.

  ‘He saw everything,’ Joe said flatly. ‘He’s feeling a bit queasy.’

  Becky gulped.

  Dan glanced up at her. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said, looking back at Joe. ‘H-how?’

  Just then, they heard footsteps from behind.

  Fearing they had attracted even more of an unwelcome audience, Becky turned to see Uncle Percy sprinting over, ashen-faced and distressed.

  Reaching them, he glanced down at Dan and forced a smile. ‘Good afternoon, everyone.’

  ‘Drake was here,’ Joe said.

  ‘That would explain your recent attempt at flight.’

  ‘You saw it?’

  ‘From a distance,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine. Drake was talking weird. He said that -’

  ‘You can tell me about it later,’ Uncle Percy interrupted. ‘Let’s deal with one thing at a time. Now, who’s this?’

  ‘This is Dan,’ Joe said.

  ‘Hello, Dan,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘I’m Percy Halifax. You’ve had quite an eventful start to your Easter holidays, haven’t you?’

  ‘I – I err –’

  ‘He saw me,’ Joe cut in.

  ‘Of course he did.’ Uncle Percy slipped his hand into his jacket pocket. ‘Then I’m sure you’re wondering what on earth is going on. Am I right?’

  ‘Y-yes,’ Dan replied.

  ‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But I’ll tell you what…’ He pulled out what looked like a digital camera. Becky recognised it at once as a Temporaliser – a device to render someone immobile. ‘May I take your picture?’

  Before Dan could respond, a thin jet of blue light surged from the lens and encircled his head, before fading away, leaving him as still as a statue.

  Joe beamed from ear to ear. ‘I love it when you do that.’

  ‘It’s necessary,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘Now, Dan doesn’t really need to remember the last few minutes, does he?’ He withdrew a small gadget that resembled a torch.

  This time, Becky recognised it as a Memoraser – a device to eradicate someone’s memory.

  Uncle Percy pressed two digits on the Memoraser. ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t we memorase his last twenty minutes, just to be on the safe side.’

  Becky made a strange squeak. Her first ever date, one with the hottest boy at Coppenhill High School, would cease to be along with his memory.

  ‘Are you okay, Becky?’ Uncle Percy asked, concerned.

  Becky sighed miserably. ‘Yep.’

  Joe frowned at her. ‘What is the matter with you?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Uncle Percy clicked the Memoraser. A shaft of silvery light ignited Dan’s eyes, which swirled like marbles in their sockets. ‘Now let’s Retemp him.’ He reset the Temporaliser and clicked it again. At once, a shaft of green light spurted from the lens, shrouding Dan’s head in a shimmering green mist. As it dissolved, Dan emerged from his daze, shaken and confused.

  ‘Hello, Dan,’ Uncle Percy said, flashing him a reassuring smile.

  ‘H-hello,’ Dan replied.

  ‘You’ve had a little turn, but you’re okay now.’

  ‘Oh, err, right.’

  ‘I’m Percy Halifax.’

  ‘Hiya,’ Dan said, shaking Uncle Percy’s extended hand. ‘I’m Dan Hardman.’ He noticed Becky. ‘I – I know you. You’re Becky Mellor. I used to deliver newspapers to your mum’s house. She g
ave me a tenner tip last Christmas.’

  Becky’s heart sank. They had had the very same conversation only minutes before. ‘Did she?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dan replied. ‘She seems really nice.’

  ‘She is very nice,’ Uncle Percy agreed, helping Dan to his feet. ‘But Dan, perhaps it would be best if you made your way home. We don’t want you to have another turn, do we?’

  ‘No,’ Dan replied, nodding. ‘I think you’re right.’ Unsteady on his feet, he picked up his school bag. ‘Well, see you. Thanks for, err, helping me out.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ Uncle Percy said. ‘Goodbye, Dan.’

  ‘See ya, mate,’ Joe said.

  ‘Bye,’ Becky muttered.

  Dan’s eyes met Becky’s for a lingering moment, his mouth offering the hint of a smile, before he turned and sloped off.

  As she watched him leave, Becky’s stomach churned. And there and then, she knew her Easter holidays would be devoted to taking a bucket load of photographs of the Silver Ghost and uploading them on to Facebook.

  Chapter 4

  At the Hop

  The moment Dan disappeared from sight Uncle Percy lost his self-control and seized Joe in a crushing hug. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack, Joe.’

  ‘In all fairness,’ Joe mumbled into Uncle Percy’s shoulder. ‘I think Drake should take some of the blame.’

  ‘I know,’ Uncle Percy replied. ‘But are you sure you’re okay? No breaks, no strains.’

  ‘I’m fine, but you do know I’m at school … this is not cool.’

  Uncle Percy released him. ‘I wouldn’t want to shatter your street cred.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Becky mumbled, still peeved about Dan. ‘He hasn’t got any.’

  Uncle Percy noted her glum expression. ‘Are you all right, Becky?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Joe said. ‘She’s got the hots for the school stud and she’s miffed your brain zap blew the only chat she’ll ever have with him.’

  ‘I am sorry, Becky,’ Uncle Percy. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘There’s nowt to have any idea about,’ Becky snapped back. ‘I don’t have the hots for anyone.’