Wychetts and the Farm of Fear

Bryony winced as the lopsided scarecrow tightened its grip on her wrist. Those straw fingers were surprisingly strong, and as she tried to break free it felt like her arm was being torn from her shoulder.

  Instinctively she turned to face Edwin, reaching out to him with her free hand.

  Edwin said something, but the scarecrow still had its hand across his mouth, so Bryony couldn’t hear his muffled words.

  “He says use the Key,” shrieked Stubby, poking his head out of Edwin’s shirt pocket. “It’s under his hat!”

  Bryony knew she could reach the Key, but even now the thought of using the magic filled her with dread.

  In any case, the chance had gone in a heartbeat. The lopsided scarecrow swung Bryony round, throwing her hard against the shed wall. The impact winded Bryony, and sent a line of stacked tools clattering to the floor.

  Lying stunned against the wall, Bryony could only watch as the lopsided scarecrow shuffled towards her, its straw hands reaching down for her neck.

  There was a long rake lying on the floor with the prongs pointing up. The scarecrow’s leading foot stepped on the prongs, causing the rake’s long wooden handle to jerk upwards. The handle slammed into the scarecrow’s face, knocking its head clean off its shoulders.

  The scarecrow’s sack head hit the floor with a thud whilst its owner staggered backwards, floundering into the scarecrow that held Edwin. Both scarecrows toppled to the floor, and Edwin managed to twist free from his captor’s grasp.

  The other scarecrows shuffled forwards to help their fallen comrades, but tripped over each other in the process. In a matter of seconds the shed floor was littered with sprawling straw bodies.

  Bryony grabbed Edwin’s arm and hauled him towards the shed door. They had almost made it when the door flew open, and two more scarecrows shuffled in to block their escape route.

  Bryony wheeled round, frantically searching for another exit. She spotted a wooden ladder at the far end of the shed, leading up to an opening in the ceiling.

  Bryony dragged Edwin back across the shed, dodging numerous flailing scarecrows before reaching the ladder. She pushed Edwin up the rickety steps, and while he climbed she glanced round to see that the lopsided scarecrow was back on its feet. Then she watched, with a mixture of fascination and horror, as another scarecrow picked up the fallen head and placed it on the shoulders of its owner. The lopsided scarecrow staggered about for a few moments, before those empty eyes spotted Bryony standing at the foot of the ladder.

  The lopsided scarecrow pointed at her with a twisted straw finger, and its slit mouth opened to emit a chilling groan.

  Bryony didn’t speak scarecrow, but she had a good idea what the groan meant, and hurried up the ladder as the rest of the scarecrows advanced on her.

  She emerged in a small loft containing sacks marked “Chicken Feed”.

  Bryony grabbed the nearest sack and dragged it over the loft entrance, blocking the route for the pursuing scarecrows. She knew it wouldn’t hold them for long, but at least it gave her time to think.

  “What’s going on?” asked Edwin, after getting his breath back. “What were those people that attacked us? They looked like…”

  “Scarecrows,” confirmed Bryony. “They’re all scarecrows.”

  Edwin gasped. “You mean walking, talking scarecrows?”

  “They don’t talk,” said Bryony. “They just sort of groan.”

  “I’m not surprised,” pondered Edwin. “It can’t be the most exciting job in the world, so there’s probably a lot to groan about.”

  “I was right all along.” Bryony waved a finger at her stepbrother. “That scarecrow from the Cursed Field was following us. It’s alive. They all are.”

  “Hey.” Edwin leaned against the wall. “Did you hear why the scarecrow won a prize? He was outstanding in his field. Hah! And another scarecrow, he resigned after all his stuffing leaked out. It was the final straw. Hah! The final straw! Haha!”

  Bryony scowled at Edwin. “You’re not taking this seriously. Our parents have vanished, there are living scarecrows trying to get us, and we’re shut in a shed loft with no way out.”

  “Don’t worry.” Edwin produced the Wychetts Key from under his hat. “Inglenook will help us.”

  “No.” Bryony shook her head. “We agreed: only in emergencies.”

  Edwin raised an auburn eyebrow. “So everything you just said isn’t an emergency?”

  “It pains me to say it,” ventured Stubby, “but the boy is right. If ever there was a time to risk using the magic, it is now.”

  There was a creaking noise from below, and Bryony realised the scarecrows were climbing the ladder.

  “That sack won’t stop them forever.” Edwin waved the Key in front of Bryony. “Shall we ask Inglenook for help, or just sit here and wait for those sack faced zombies to nab us?”

  Bryony hesitated. She didn’t want to use magic, but there seemed no other option. Then she noticed a window in the gable end of the shed. It was only a small window, but wide enough to squeeze through. She rushed over, opened the window, and peered outside.

  There was quite a drop to the ground, but a conveniently placed pile of straw lay directly below.

  “What are you doing?” Edwin gawped at Bryony as she climbed through the window.

  “I’m getting out of here,” she answered, perching on the narrow sill. “Are you coming with me?”

  There was more creaking from below, accompanied by the sound of agitated scarecrow groans.

  “But what about our parents?” asked Edwin. “We should try and help them.”

  “We can’t do anything to help them if we’re stuck in here,” said Bryony. “Our best bet is to get out, then go look for them.”

  A shredding sound made Edwin look round. A curved blade was poking through the sack, which deflated like a punctured balloon as the chicken feed emptied through the loft entrance below.

  Without further hesitation, Bryony jumped from the window. It was a longer drop than it looked, but the straw broke her fall, and she landed unharmed.

  “Now you,” she called up to Edwin. “Quickly!”

  Edwin didn’t need much prompting. A scarecrow had emerged into the loft, and was hobbling towards him.

  “Do you think this is wise?” asked Stubby, as Edwin climbed onto the window sill. “It would be much easier to use magic.”

  “We made a deal,” said Edwin. “The magic can only be used if Bryony and I agree. Now brace yourself. This might be a bumpy ride.”

  Stubby didn’t sound too keen on their escape plan. “Do I get a mint to suck? I’m not good on flights.”

  As it happened, Edwin wasn’t too keen on their escape plan either.

  “Hurry up!” Bryony beckoned to Edwin from below.

  But Edwin couldn’t hurry up. Suddenly his body had frozen. Suddenly he realised he couldn’t make the jump.

  “What are you waiting for?” cried Stubby. “Clearance from air traffic control?”

  “Jump!” called Bryony. “The straw will break your fall.”

  “The straw isn’t soft enough,” mewled Edwin. “What if I land on my head?”

  “That’ll be soft enough,” said Stubby.

  “Hurry up!” shrieked Bryony. “What are you waiting for?”

  Edwin couldn’t reply. Every muscle in his body had turned to stone.

  Then a straw hand grasped his shoulder. The shock made Edwin flinch, and he slipped off the sill and fell forwards through the window.

  Another straw hand seized his left ankle, and Edwin was left dangling upside down from the window. Stubby tumbled out of his shirt pocket, but managed to grab Edwin’s left ear.

  “Ow!” Edwin winced as Stubby’s little claws dug into his earlobe. “Careful, you’ll have my ear off!”

  “Sorry,” said Stubby. “But there’s a strong draft blowing through your head.”

  “Kick your legs!” shouted Bryony.

  Edwin kicked, but the scarecrow’s grip was like a vice. So he kicke
d harder. His ankle slid through the scarecrow’s fingers, and then suddenly he was falling.

  Edwin landed on the straw, winded but unhurt.

  “What a rough landing,” muttered Stubby, still clinging to Edwin’s ear. “I’ll never moan about economy airlines again.”

  Edwin stuffed the grumbling Stubby back into his pocket, then received a nudge on the shoulder from Bryony.

  “Hurry up,” she urged. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Edwin noticed his hat had fallen off, and spotted it lying next to him in the straw. He picked it up, and then exhaled a horrified gasp when he realised something was missing.

  “The Key! It must have fallen out.”

  Edwin started grovelling in the straw, but Bryony grabbed his arm. “Never mind about the Key,” she snarled, hoisting him to his feet. “We’ve got to get away from those scarecrows.”

  Edwin was about to protest, but the words died in his throat as he saw a line of scarecrows emerging from the shed.

  “Come on!” Bryony dragged Edwin away from the shed, and down a narrow alley between two crumbling stable blocks.

  Bryony had no idea where she was heading, but she knew they had to lose those scarecrows before they could start looking for Dad and Jane.

  They passed more derelict stables, and something that looked like a disused pigsty, before stumbling into a large open yard. On the far side stood a long barn, its bowed roof an untidy patchwork of wooden planks and corrugated iron. Opposite was a house, an old timber framed building that reminded Bryony of Wychetts, but in a much worse state of repair.

  The yard itself was a mess, strewn with old tractor tyres, empty crates, and all manner of assorted junk. A scattering of scrawny chickens picked disinterestedly at the few bits of earth left uncluttered by garbage, but there was no other sign of life.

  Bryony checked over her shoulder, and was relieved to see no scarecrows were following.

  “I think we’ve lost them,” she sighed. “Now we can look for our parents.”

  “First we should find the Key,” said Edwin. “Without it we don’t stand a chance of getting out of here.”

  Bryony shook her head. “We find our parents first. They’re more important than the Key.”

  Edwin knew Bryony was right, and felt momentarily ashamed of putting the Key before everyone else; he’d made that mistake before, and they were all lucky to have escaped alive. But he still believed the Key was their only hope of escaping this weird farm, so he proposed an alternative plan to Bryony.

  “How about you go look for Mum and Dad, and I go find the Key?”

  “No.” Bryony was insistent. “We stick together on this one.”

  “OK.” Edwin realised Bryony wasn’t going to budge. “So where do we start looking?”

  Bryony chewed her bottom lip as she scanned their surroundings. She had completely lost her bearings, and hadn’t a clue where to begin the search. Then she had an idea. “Can Stubby help us with his super mouse senses?”

  Stubby was already on the case, whiskers twitching as he sniffed the air. “I’m picking up a lot of scents, which is not unusual for a farm. Very few human ones, though.”

  “What about sounds?” asked Edwin. “Can you hear any noises which might lead us to them?”

  Stubby’s ears swivelled like little radar dishes. “Not a thing, I’m afraid. The place is quiet. Too quiet...”

  But not for much longer.

  A throaty growl sounded from somewhere. Then Bryony heard panting: deep, frantic panting that got louder and louder.

  Edwin yelped, and pointed over Bryony’s shoulder. Bryony wheeled round, and emitted a similar cry of anguish as she saw a massive black dog charging towards her…

  Chapter 6- Taking the Plunge