Four weary travellers and a desert mouse named Rod lay asleep in the dirt at the top of a cliff. Within the spacious confines of their rocky enclosure with its one opening, aside from the stairs, nary a sound could be heard beyond the quiet gurgle snoring that resinated from Briar’s body. Toward the edge of the cliff Rod lay comfortably nestled under Cetra’s chin, his breathing was relaxed and his little paws twitched in the warmth of the sun.
Barret hadn’t moved, still with his hands behind his head he lay flat on his back, though his face held a strange smirk, as though his thoughts were somehow sadistic in nature.
Billy, who had fallen asleep against the rock he’d leant on, woke with a start.
Above him was a big ugly shadow. On his cheek was a spattering of saliva. Wrapped around him and being pulled at fiercely was his box.
At once Billy shouted to the others and tried to crawl away, but the strap held him there and pulled him back. It lifted him up and bashed him against the rock; the pain was bad but it was nothing compared to the fear.
Hump1 continued to hold the box steady, pinning Billy down with a great deal of force, while at the same time yelling at his two comrades and waving his free hand around in the air.
Billy realised quickly that his screams for help were useless, for Barret was in a wrestle hold with Hump2 and Briar seemed to have disappeared somewhere under Hump3. Cetra on the other hand, who was no longer smiling, was simply held back by the fact that any help she could offer would have been no help at all, given the circumstances and the size of their assailants.
During the struggle Billy grabbed for the strap in an attempt to relax its edge from cutting into his chest, and for a moment his breath caught. Given the sudden and horrible sensation of being unable to breathe while his lungs were being crushed, Billy managed to harness enough strength to push himself off the rock and snap the buckle that connected the strap to the box, sending his injured body hurtling forward onto the dirt. By the same token, Hump1 stumbled backwards with the snap but was able to manoeuvre his bulk well enough to stay aloft.
Next, and just like a big kid with a new toy, Hump1 reached into the box and pulled out the bright orange pellet gun with a big clumsy hand. He then held it up to the sky and laughed.
Billy couldn’t tell if the creature was mocking it or worshipping it.
“Wiefhusworponorginwroolduoilefbralee,” Hump1 grunted loudly.
In his defence, and taking into consideration the fact that no one could understand him, he actually meant to say, “With this weapon I can rule the whole of Bradley,” which is quite preposterous really to think that a creature who had remained unchallenged for as long as anyone could remember should find it necessary to have a weapon he could use to rule the plain with.
Billy got to his feet but remained where he was. Apart from the single embarrassing moment when Hump1 appeared to accidentally drop the gun and bend over awkwardly to pick it up again, at the same time releasing some uninvited flatulence, the situation seemed grim.
Barret, who hadn’t yet tired of struggling in the arms of Hump2, continued a barrage of protest against his assailant that was definitely Irish born and bred, though of little significance or effect in the immediate situation.
Briar on the other hand had not been seen nor heard since the Humps’ arrival, and as such remained that way; the assumption being that his imprisonment beneath Hump3 was impervious to escape.
By now Cetra and Rod had moved to Billy’s side and doubled the defence. She grabbed Billy’s hand and squeezed it hard. She felt Rod’s claws gripping into her shoulder through the material of her shirt. Billy turned to them both and spoke no words, but his gaze was steely, and foolishness was behind it.
With no regard for his own safety Billy leapt forward in a last brave bid to fell his enemy and recapture the mountain, to bring order back to their journey, and to secure the safety and withhold the honour of his companions.
Hump1 barely flinched as the attack commenced, he met Billy head on, aimed the gun at him, and fired.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN