Wychetts and the Farm of Fear

Bryony lay trussed in a large roasting dish, watching helplessly as Ma finished hacking up a portion of grimy carrots.

  “There,” said Ma, depositing a heap of roughly chopped vegetables on top of Bryony. “That’ll add to the flavour. It’s going to be the best harvest supper we’ve had, thanks to you.”

  Then Ma grinned, and pointed her vegetable knife at Bryony.

  This is it, thought Bryony.

  But Ma laughed. “Thought I was going to slit that plump piggy throat of yours, eh? Don’t worry, I ain’t no savage. I think meat tastes much better if it’s cooked alive.”

  Ma picked up the roasting dish with Bryony inside it, and carried her towards the oven. “A couple of hours should see you done,” she explained, as though Bryony needed to know. “My boy Jed, he likes his meat well cooked. But I prefer a bit of pink myself. Like to see the juices run when I start carving.”

  Bryony knew there was no escape now. There was surely nothing that could save her from being roasted alive in that furnace of an oven.

  Ma extended her elephantine right leg, and prised the oven door ajar with a fleshy foot. Bryony expected to be engulfed in a blast of heat, but the air wafting from the oven was barely warm.

  “It’s not hot enough,” grumbled Ma, her mood changing in an instant. “Where’s that lazy sliphuck of a boy? Zach!” Ma dumped Bryony and the roasting dish back on the table, before tipping her head back to emit a nerve shredding screech. “Zachariah, get your scrawny backside in here right now!”

  The response to Ma’s summons was instant.

  “I’m here.” Zach’s gaunt face appeared at the kitchen door. “What is it, Ma?”

  Ma glared at Zach. “I thought I told you to get the oven heated up.”

  Zach’s eyes were wide and fearful as he crept into the kitchen. “I put some logs in, just like you told me.”

  “But nowhere near enough!” Ma pointed at the pathetic pile of charred twigs nestling at the bottom of the oven. “That’s not enough to cook a cockroach. Which is all we’ll be having for supper, unless you get a decent fire going.”

  Ma raised a hand to cuff Zach round the ear, but he scurried away to scoop up an armful of logs from a basket in the corner of the kitchen.

  “Sorry, Ma.” Zach shoved the logs into the base of the oven. “I’ll have a proper fire going before you know it.”

  “You’d better,” muttered Ma, her ferret eyes glancing at a rusting old clock on the wall. “I’ve got to lend a hand with the harvest, seeing as you’re too weak to be of use.”

  “You can leave the cooking to me,” said Zach. “I’ve seen you do it before. As soon as the fire gets hot enough, I stick the hog in.”

  “And how do you know when it’s hot enough?” asked Ma.

  “When it burns off my eyebrows,” replied Zach.

  Ma nodded. “You’d better not muck it up, boy, or you’ll be next for the roasting dish.” She gave Zach one last glare, and then lumbered out of the farmhouse. Zach waited until the sound of Ma’s stomping footsteps had faded, and then pulled the apple from Bryony’s mouth.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Do I look all right?” honked Bryony. “Trussed up in a roasting dish with a pile of vegetables on my head?”

  “It suits you,” said Zach. “But it was better when you had the apple in your mouth.”

  Bryony glared at Zach. “Have you been taking lessons from Edwin?”

  Zach grinned. “Sorry. But don’t worry, I’ve come to rescue you.”

  Zach picked up the knife from the table and cut the twine binding Bryony’s trotters together. He tried to lift her out of the dish, but Bryony butted his hands away with her snout.

  “I don’t need your help,” she grunted, shaking a smattering of chopped vegetables from her back as she stepped onto the table. Then she realised the table was too high for her to get down.

  “Give me a hand,” she told Zach.

  Zach stood back and folded his arms. “I didn’t think you needed my help.”

  “Stop playing games,” said Bryony. “And do as I tell you.”

  “I ain’t your skivvy,” snarled Zach. “I get that sort of thing all day from Jed and Ma. You ain’t ordering me to do anything.”

  Bryony took a deep breath. “Sorry. Could you please help me down from this table?”

  Zach feigned reluctance for a couple of seconds, and then helped Bryony off the table via a conveniently placed chair.

  “You stink,” said Bryony, stepping away from Zach as she reached the floor.

  “I’ve been shovelling dung for two hours,” said Zach, wiping his sweaty forehead. “And you don’t smell too great yourself.”

  Bryony realised Zach was probably right, and that it was down to him that she wasn’t roasting alive in that oven.

  “Thanks,” she said, attempting the pig equivalent of a smile. “I’d be dead meat if it wasn’t for you.”

  “No worries,” said Zach. “Always happy to help a purty lady.”

  “Purty? Oh, you mean ‘pretty’.” Bryony felt flattered, and then she realised what Zach meant. “Are you being sarcastic? I’m a fat ugly pig.”

  “You are now,” conceded Zach. “But you were purty as a human.”

  “Well… thanks.” Bryony felt like she was blushing, but wasn’t sure whether Zach would be able to tell. “Anyway,” she began, thinking it best to change the subject, “how come you understand what I’m saying? Ma didn’t seem to.”

  “I got the gift,” said Zach. “I can talk to animals. Well, farm animals, anyhow. Chickens, pigs, ducks, sheep, cows and horses. Not that I get the chance to talk to anything but chickens nowadays, since Ma had the rest of our livestock sold at market.”

  Bryony eyed Zach carefully. “Are you … magic?”

  “Naw.” Zach laughed at the suggestion. “It’s just a gift, like I said. My father taught me, before he…” Zach stopped laughing, and slid a hand into a pocket in his tatty jogging bottoms. “Talking about magic, I got something for you.”

  Bryony’s piggy eyes widened at the sight of the large metal key Zach held in front of her. “Where did you get that?”

  “I found it,” said Zach, grinning again. “In the pile of straw outside the tool shed, just where Edwin said it would be. He asked me to look for it, see. Said he could do magic with it. You too. So there you go.” Zach laid the Wychetts Key on the floor in front of Bryony. “Do your magic, purty lady.”

  Bryony backed away from the Key.

  “What are you waiting for?” Zach stared at Bryony. “I thought you were supposed to be a wizard.”

  “I’m not a wizard.” Bryony retreated further from the Key. “I’ll never be a wizard. And I don’t know anything about magic.”

  Zach frowned. “But Edwin said…”

  “Edwin is the wizard,” said Bryony. “He can use the Key to save everyone. We must take it to him.”

  “He’s shut up in the hen house,” said Zach. “I thought it would be quicker if you…”

  “But I’m no wizard,” repeated Bryony, shaking her piggy head. “And I don’t know anything about magic. Edwin is the only one who can use the Key.”

  “OK.” Zach picked up the Key and dropped it back into his pocket. “I’ll take you to the hen house. Shouldn’t be too difficult now all the scarecrows are harvesting the Cursed Field.”

  Bryony followed Zach to the farmhouse door. “But I don’t understand. The Cursed Field hasn’t got anything growing in it.”

  “Too right,” agreed Zach, opening the door a fraction to peer cautiously out. “Nothing’s grown there for hundreds of years. That’s how it got its name.”

  Bryony nodded. “I walked through it today. I thought it felt spooky.”

  “There’s stories about the place,” continued Zach. “All I know is that my family gave up trying to grow anything there, and let it go fallow. We had plenty of other fields in good heart, so it didn’t really matter. But Ma and Jed haven’t bothered planting up any land this yea
r, and seem to think the Cursed Field is going to provide all their harvest.”

  That didn’t make sense to Bryony. “But if nothing grows in the Cursed Field, what will those scarecrows be harvesting?”

  Zach shrugged. “Let’s hope you’re not round here long enough to find out. Now keep out of sight. Ma’s coming past.”

  Bryony shrank back as she heard the approaching growl of an engine.

  “She’s taking the tractor down to the Cursed Field,” explained Zach, as the growling noise receded. “Means we got the farm to ourselves for a while. Now follow me. But keep low, just in case.”

  “I don’t have much choice,” grumbled Bryony, cursing her short piggy legs as she followed Zach out of the farmhouse.

  The yard looked different to before, but Bryony’s attention was drawn elsewhere as Blossom started barking. Initially she thought of running, but then realised they were in no immediate danger. Not only was the dog on a short tether, but his anger seemed directed elsewhere, and he hadn’t even noticed their approach.

  “Seems he doesn’t care about us,” she sighed.

  But Zach didn’t share her relief.

  “It’ll be that fox,” he gasped. “If he’s been sniffing round the hen house, Edwin is in trouble!”

  Zach set off in a sprint. At first Bryony couldn’t keep up, but she quickly the hang of using four legs, and was soon managing a decent gallop.

  They left the yard and rounded a group of derelict buildings, but their route was blocked by a lopsided figure in a floppy hat and a stripy waistcoat.

  “Boglehob!” Zach staggered to a halt, and Bryony almost ran into him. “We can’t let him see us. Down ‘ere!”

  Zach ushered Bryony down a gap between two dilapidated sheds. Bryony found it difficult to ease her portly pig body through the narrow opening, and would have got stuck if Zach hadn’t come to her rescue with a well-placed boot on her rump.

  Before Bryony could complain about her rough treatment, Zach pushed her to the ground and put a finger to his lips.

  Hiding between the two buildings, Bryony looked back to see the lopsided scarecrow shuffling past.

  Boglehob halted, turning his sack face to where Bryony lay hiding. Those empty eyes seemed to stare right at her, and the slit mouth twisted into that all too familiar grimace of a smile.

  Seconds passed, most of which Bryony spent trying not to breathe. And then Boglehob shuffled away.

  “He didn’t spot us,” sighed Zach, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  Bryony exhaled a relieved oink. “I thought all the scarecrows had gone to the field.”

  Zach shrugged. “Should have known Boglehob would still be ‘ere. He ain’t like the other scarecrows. He arrived first, and turned all the others into straw. I’ve seen him do it. He stares at ‘em, it’s like hypnotism.”

  “So he’s a magic scarecrow.” Bryony nodded her pig head slowly. “Must be where Ma and Jed are getting their powers from.”

  “Then there are the others,” said Zach. “The people from the Ministry of Agriculture. There’s summat odd about them, too.”

  Bryony was going to ask about the people from the Ministry, when she heard Blossom barking again.

  “We can’t sit here chatting,” she told Zach. “Edwin needs our help.”

  Zach nodded. “But it’ll be tricky with Boglehob on the prowl. Who knows what’ll happen to us if we get caught.”

  “Is there another route to the henhouse?” asked Bryony.

  “Yes, but…” Zach swallowed. “We’d have to cut through the vegetable store.”

  “Fine by me,” said Bryony.

  Zach bit his lip. “It’ll be dangerous.”

  Bryony questioned how dangerous a vegetable store could be, but noticed the look of fear on Zach’s gaunt face.

  “But we’ve got to get to Edwin,” she reminded him. “And fast.”

  Zach hesitated, then squirmed past Bryony and crawled further down the narrow alley. Bryony followed, holding her breath for fear of getting jammed again. Luckily Zach hadn’t gone far when he stopped and pointed to a small gap in the wall of the nearest building.

  “Through ‘ere,” he whispered. “But watch out when you get inside.”

  Bryony wondered what she should be watching out for, but Zach had disappeared through the gap before she could ask. Now it was her turn.

  Bryony took another deep breath, and squeezed herself into the gap. She managed to get her front legs through, and then her shoulders, but everything else got stuck. She wriggled about for a while, but realised she wasn’t going to make it through on her own.

  “I’m jammed,” she called, peering into the gloom before her. “Could you give me a hand please, Zach?”

  From somewhere in the darkness came a startled cry.

  “Zach?” Bryony tensed, her pig ears pricking up as she listened. “Are you OK?”

  The only response was a muffled whimper.

  Bryony knew Zach was in trouble. “I’m coming,” she called, ignoring the discomfort as she forced her piggy bulk through the hole.

  It took a few seconds of frantic struggling, but eventually she made it through. Although it was dark inside the shed, there was enough moonlight filtering through a hole in the roof for Bryony to make out her surroundings. There were numerous sacks heaped against the walls, and a pile of round things in the middle of the floor. A pile of round things with a pair of flailing legs sticking out of it.

  Bryony realised the round things were turnips, and the flailing legs belonged to Zach.

  “Very clever,” she grunted. “You thought scaring me would make me get through that hole on my own. Well it worked, so can we now go find Edwin?”

  The legs continued to flail, and Bryony heard a muted cry from inside the pile of turnips.

  “This isn’t funny,” she honked, stamping an impatient trotter. “Edwin could be in danger.”

  There was another cry, louder this time. Zach’s legs kicked out, dislodging one of the turnips that rolled across the floor to rest in front of Bryony.

  Bryony sniffed curiously at the turnip; she was certainly no expert when it came to root vegetables, but she thought it looked a bit odd. It had bumps on one side, which resembled a human face. It could just be a trick of the light, but it looked like the turnip had a nose, a mouth, and a pair of eyes.

  Eyes? Bryony knew that potatoes were supposed to have eyes. But not turnips. And certainly not eyes like these: beady eyes that opened to fix her with a look of pure evil.

  Then the turnip’s mouth widened, revealing a pair of pointed fangs…

  The turnip hissed at Bryony, who pulled her snout away just in time to avoid a nasty bite.

  “Help me!” screamed Zach, his legs flailing wildly. “The turnips have got me!”

  At first Bryony was too stunned to react. Then she realised what had happened. Zach had been ambushed, attacked by a horde of deadly biting turnips!

  Bryony sprang to Zach’s aid, grasping his left leg in her mouth and pulling as hard as she could. The turnips were reluctant to release their victim, snapping and hissing as Bryony tried to haul Zach from their clutches. But Bryony proved more determined, and was able to drag Zach free.

  “Are you OK?” she asked, once they had retreated a safe distance from the pile of ravenous turnips.

  Zach nodded. His sweater was shredded, and his face and arms were laced with cuts, but he was otherwise unhurt.

  “What are those things?” asked Bryony, eyeing the turnips warily.

  “They’re turnips,” said Zach.

  “I know that,” said Bryony. “But turnips don’t normally bite people. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

  “These turnips bite people.” Zach winced as he touched a scar on his cheek. “They’re vampire turnips.”

  “Vampire turnips?”

  Zach looked like he was about to explain, and then dropped to the floor. “Get down!”

  There was a swishing sound, and Bryony saw three po
inty missiles zooming through the air towards her.

  She didn’t have time to react. Luckily she didn’t have to. The pointy missiles skimmed over her head, and there were three thuds as they embedded in the shed wall behind her.

  Bryony stared at the pointy missiles in the wall, and felt suddenly grateful for her short piggy legs. Then her relief turned to amazement as she noticed the missiles were actually…

  “Carrots?”

  “Killer carrots,” said Zach, still lying prone. “Keep down, there’s another lot coming!”

  A second volley of carrots came hurtling from the gloom. This time Bryony took no chances, and rolled on the floor to evade the deadly sharp tipped vegetables.

  “Who’s throwing them?” she squealed.

  “No one,” explained Zach. “They’re throwing themselves.”

  Bryony couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But I thought vegetables were supposed to be good for you?”

  “Not this lot. Five of these a day wouldn’t be good for anyone.” Zach set off in a commando style crawl towards the shed door. “I’m going to check the way out. Keep your head down.”

  Bryony did as instructed, and winced as a third squadron of carrots thudded into the wall behind her. Zach made it to the shed door unharmed, and reached up to grasp the latch. He fumbled about for a few seconds, before emitting a weary groan. “It’s bolted on the outside. Which means we’re…” Zach looked round, and pointed. “Look out for that cabbage!”

  Bryony turned her head to see a cabbage bouncing towards her.

  “Watch it,” cried Zach, waving his arms at Bryony. “It’s gonna blow!”

  “What?” Bryony wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

  “It’ll explode.” Zach’s voice became a hoarse screech. “It’s an exploding cabbage!”

  Bryony looked at the cabbage again. It looked like a normal cabbage, but as it bounced closer she heard a ticking noise…

  “It’ll go any second,” warned Zach. “Get under cover!”

  Bryony looked around, but couldn’t see any cover to get under.

  Then she had an idea.

  “Get away from the door, Zach!”

  “Don’t!” Zach screamed as he watched Bryony sink her teeth into the cabbage. “It’ll blow your head off!”

  The ticking noise got louder, and Bryony knew she had to act fast. Ignoring the danger to herself, she picked up the cabbage in her mouth and hurled it at the shed door.

  Zach dived away just in time. There was an explosion, and Bryony was blown off her trotters. Bits of shredded cabbage flew everywhere, and the door was torn off its hinges.

  “You did it,” cried Zach, as Bryony lay stunned on the floor. “Now let’s get out of here!”

  Bryony staggered to a standing position, and saw Zach beckoning at her from the shattered doorway.

  Then she saw an arm reaching from behind him, and five twisted straw fingers clutching at Zach’s neck.

  Bryony shouted a warning, but the sound died in her throat as she spotted another ticking cabbage bouncing towards her.

  And there was no time to react before a savage explosion hurled Bryony into oblivion...

  Chapter 11- Helping With Enquiries