Neither Dead Nor Alive (4 page)

I'm at Ledaig farm. I'm soaked. Had to walk from Connel. There's been a few cars but I didn't try to hitch. Couldn't take the chance the police might be looking for me – not after what Darren said.

I reckon I'm all right now. There's rocks and bushes on one side of the road, so I can dive in and hide if I have to. And just round the corner is Benderloch village and that's where Fiona's house is.

I'm just beginning to feel safe, but I'm still listening for the ‘EEE-AAWW, EEE-AAWW, EEE-AAWW” of a police siren and I'm looking for blue flashing lights. Searching for me has got to be a big police emergency; so I don't notice this Vauxhall Astra purring along slowly, even though it's got police markings – not until it's too late.

I dive into a ditch. Maybe they haven't seen me. The car's cruising past. No; it's reversing right up to where I am. The front passenger door opens and a policewoman gets out.

“Steve,” she calls.

I get my head down and don't breathe.

“Steve, you're not going to get into trouble.”

Another door slams.

A man's voice asks, “Any sign of him?”

“I'm sure I saw him,” she says. “must be somewhere over there.” “Let's go see.”

I can't help looking up and this policeman's coming towards me, balancing from tussock to tussock among the muddy pools.

I leg it and he dives after me.

For a split second I think he's like a big black swan landing on a loch – all feet and arms flailing and splashing. He didn't see the soft mud and he's in over his knees.

That gives me the break I need. I'm into brambles and bracken and boulders and I'm half running, half crawling. I can hear them somewhere behind me and I think my heart's going to explode through my ribs.

There's a kind of tunnel in the bracken here and I double back along it. Can't keep this up much longer. Here's a hole under a big rock. It goes right underneath it, out of sight. I crawl under the rock.

I'm panting. Wish I didn't have to breathe so hard in case they hear me. But they're not close. In fact they're going the wrong way. I can hear them stomping and shouting and it's getting fainter.

Then the noise stops altogether. They must have given up.

But there's this other voice. “Stevey.”

It's Mum.

“Stevey, please come out. We won't go back to Paisley if you don't want to. Please.”

I wish I could tell her about Fiona and Aidan and all, but she wouldn't listen. I'd be grounded for weeks – and I've only got till tomorrow. So I curl up under my rock. Then I notice there's another way in. There's a tunnel under the rock and it leads out the other side into a jumble of boulders on the hillside away from the road. Don't know where it leads to but I'm going to find out. If I stay here they'll get me sooner or later.

I'm wriggling along now on my hands and knees. At first I can still hear Mum's voice.

“Stevey,” she calls. “Stevey.”

I swear she's crying. Then the voice fades out and I'm alone in the tunnel.

It's not exactly a tunnel now. There's a track that winds through boulders that must have fallen down from a cliff somewhere up the hill. At times I've got to crawl under the rocks. In other places I can stand up.

It takes a long time and I've got to stop for a rest. I don't even know if I'll be able to get out the other end.

Then suddenly I am out of it. In front of me there's one of these boggy fields with bracken and broom, and beyond that there are back gardens and houses. I can see now that I've come out just beyond Benderloch village and I'll have to backtrack to get to Fiona's.

I'm crossing the field, running from bush to bush. Now I'll have to cut across the road to get to her house. I look both ways and listen. That police car with Mum could be anywhere. On the other hand they're maybe still back where I left them, still searching. Anyway, the road's clear; so I go up over the fence, sprint down the road and in Fiona's gate. Then I stop. Crouch down behind her hedge. What if her dad's in? It must be about teatime. I glance at my wrist, but my watch isn't there. I must have lost it
somewhere with all that scrambling and mud and stuff.

What to do?

I decide to chance it. Got no choice really. I run to the door and ring the bell. I'm sopping wet, but my mouth is dry like dust. What if she's not in?

But she is.

Don't think she recognises me at first – no wonder.

“Hello,” I croak. “It's me.”

“Steve?”

“Same guy.”

“Come in – no, go in the bathroom. Don't mess the place up.”

What's she like? After all I've been through.

“Look,” she says, “just stay there. I'll get you some dry clothes.”

“I've done a runner,” I announce dramatically.

“I know.” She's pure casual.

“How d'you know?”

“The police checked to see if you were here. Your mum's dead worried.”

Then she's off and back again with a bundle of stuff.

“Here's some dry things.”

“Girl's clothes?” I wonder, but she's brought a T-shirt, jeans and trainers.

She insists I get washed and changed before she'll listen to my story. Her trainers are too small, so I have to put my own sopping ones back on. But she has to clean all the mud off them first.

I try to explain it's an emergency. I'm on the run, in urgent danger, but she's not for hurrying.

“Listen,” she says, “the police have been here already. They won't be back. Dad's library shuts at eight, so he won't be in for a while yet. Just calm down.”

When she sees I'm clean and dry (well, almost) she lets me go and sit in the lounge.

Then she's ready to listen, but it turns out she knows most of it already – except the bit about the lift from Darren and Vicki.

It seems that Mum's been phoning around just about everybody trying to find out where I am, and
Radio Oban FM
has just done a newsflash that a boy with red hair has been reported missing in the Dalmally area.

“Right,” Fiona says, twirling her ponytail. “I'll have to hide you tonight. Aidan can't be killed till tomorrow. We know exactly where it happens, so we can go into the Land of the Old first thing tomorrow morning and save him. As soon as we come back to today you'll have to go and see your mum. She's back here, you know. She's going to stay here till you're found.”

“Let's go to the Land of the Old now and make sure.”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “Far too risky. We wouldn't have long enough before sunset. Imagine if we met Gawawl in the dark. “Besides,” she adds, “I don't want to worry my dad. He'll wonder what's the matter if I'm not here when he gets in. And I've got to make his tea.”

Big deal. Aidan's life's on the line and she's worried about her old man's tea! Still, I get it about meeting Gawawl in the dark.

“Now,” she says firmly, “you've got to have something to eat and then I'll hide you for the night.”

She makes me veggie burger and chips (grilled, not fried) and decaff diet coke. And I'm not allowed tomato sauce because it's not good for you.

When I'm finished I half expect her to tell me to go and brush my teeth, but what she says is, “Downey's barn; that's where you'll sleep.”

“Where's that?”

“Downey's is just down the road. He stores hay in it over the winter, but it'll be empty just now. And it's not locked. You'll be all right there.”

“What if Downey comes and finds me?”

“No chance. His farm house is on the other side of Ledaig Bay. He never comes here in the summer.”

She brings me a rucksack. She stuffs in something like a rolled-up quilt.

“That's a sleeping bag,” she tells me. “The barn's got a stone floor. It won't be very comfortable, but you'll be warm enough at this time of year.”

We go out her back door to a lane, take a quick look around and make a dash for it to the side road that leads down to Ledaig Bay.

“The barn's about five minutes' walk from here,” she says.

****

The heavy wooden door closes tightly, but there's no lock. It's empty inside – whitewashed walls and a stone floor.

Fiona lays out the sleeping bag.

“What time is it?”

I tell her I've lost my watch.

“Well, it won't be dark for a while yet. So you musn't leave the barn, just in case the police are about. Once it's dark you'll be OK.

“Oh,” she adds, “you might hear scuttling noises. These'll be mice, or maybe rats. They won't hurt you. Their whiskers might tickle you when you're sleeping; make you sneeze.” She laughs. “Never been camping?”

I'm not exactly over the moon about the rats, but before I've time to worry about them there's something else.

She goes into a side pocket in the rucksack and pulls out the dirk.

“You'd better have this.”

“For the rats?”

“Don't be stupid.”

“What, then?”

“You remember Gawawl?”

“Do you think I'm gonna forget him?”

“All right. You know that Aidan and Finn and Fergus are only alive in the Land of the Old? They can't be in our today time.”

I nod.

“Gawawl and The Morrigan aren't like that. They're immortal.”

“How d'you mean?”

“They're alive all the time. They never die.”

“So?”

“They're in the present as well as the past. They could be with us now.”

I freak out. It's like icy spiders are crawling along my spine.

“Don't worry,” she goes on. “Remember how your watch strap stopped Gawawl? How do you think he could face a Highland dirk?”

“Will he come after me?”

“Probably not. Whatever he does in the Land of the Old, in today's time he mostly sleeps in the tomb behind your house. So long as nobody disturbs him, that is.”

“Then why do I need the dirk?”

“This year's been different because you went into the Land of the Old. I don't know if Gawawl can follow you back into today, and even if he can I don't think he would know where to find you. But take the dirk, just in case.”

“Not me. I'm getting out of here.”

“Where are you going?” she asks. “Gawawl might just come looking for you but he hasn't a clue that you're in here. Leave this place and it's a toss-up between him and the police.”

“I could stay at your place.”

Dad would phone the police. He'll be home any minute.”

“So it's got to be here?”

“Definitely.”

“But if Gawawl doesn't know I'm in here I won't need the dirk.”

“Take it just in case. I read somewhere that Gawawl's got an acute sense of smell.”

I'm wakened by a heavy, creaking noise. At first I can't think where I am, but the door opens slowly and a streak of light cuts into the barn.

I remember now, and I think it's Gawawl. I reach for the dirk. But it's only Fiona.

She's brought me tomato sandwiches (wholemeal bread, she says) and a Thermos flask of hot chocolate. Her dad's gone off to his work, so the house is empty, but

Fiona reckons it's too dangerous for me to be seen around Benderloch in today time.

Seems I was on TV last night.
Reporting Scotland
had a bit about me with a photo, and the whole village is out looking for me.

“Everybody's got their eyes skinned.” She giggles, “And you're not hard to spot with that red hair.”

Mark phoned her up, but she didn't tell him anything. We're not sure about Mark. He might turn me in if he thought it would make him a local hero.

So we decide – well, Fiona's decided already – that we get into the Land of the Old right here in the barn and go to the dead dinosaur in long ago time.

She's been out early picking blaeberries so we can start right away. She produces a polybag full of them. We take half a dozen each, swallow them and squat on the sleeping bag to wait for something to happen.

After about five minutes Fiona asks, “How long did it take last time?”

“Dunno. Can't remember when I picked the berries.”

We take another handful, just to be sure.

Another five minutes and I get impatient. “It's not working. You must've got it wrong.”

She's angry now. “I didn't get it wrong. It's in MacPhee's book. Anyway, you've not done a lot to try and find out what's going on.”

I start to tell her it's me that's done the runner and been chased by the police, but suddenly she snaps her fingers.

“You're dead right. I DID miss something. The book says ‘freshly picked.' Perhaps they've got to be absolutely fresh. I got these before breakfast.”

“So we'll have to go out and get more.”

“Fraid so. I'll go and bring some back,” she offers.

“Then they won't be fresh.”

“How fresh is fresh?” she asks.

“Maybe you've got to pick them yourself. No point in getting it wrong again.”

“All right, but we'll have to be very careful.”

I stick the dirk in my belt. That won't help if it's the police that get to me first.

Fiona goes out on to the road. She signals that it's OK and tells me in whispers where to get the berries.

There isn't anybody about, so we could talk normally, but I whisper back, “Let's go for it.”

We're on the road that leads past the caravan site with the karting and diving. I hope we get out of today time before we pass it because there's bound to be people about. Fiona leads me off the road into a rocky hollow overgrown with brambles. We pick our way through the thorns, and down among the rocks there's millions of blaeberries.

I only eat two or three, then my cheeks turn inside out. These ones are dead sour.

“Take more,” she says.

“How? That's all I had last time.”

“That's the point. Last time you came back into today.”

“Too right, I did.”

“Think about it. We don't want to come back to today till we've completed our mission. So we have to take extra.”

Completed our mission! Whew! What's she like?

But I see a problem. “What if we can't get back for days and days?”

“Doesn't matter. Once we've completed our mission we can just hang around till the effect wears off.”

“Who's gonna make your dad's tea, then?”

“Don't be sarky.”

“OK.”

I pick a handful and try to swallow them without chewing. She does the same. The blue juice stains our fingers. I wipe them on my – her – T-shirt. I can see she's not pleased but she doesn't say anything.

“Now what?”

“You tell me. You're the one who's been here before.”

“I don't know. I just sort of walked about.”

“OK. We'll walk about. But we'll have to watch out for today people who might recognize you.”

We go back to the road. We`re going to have to pass the caravan site, and I can see there's folk milling about there as usual.

I want to run.

Fiona says, “No. That'll only attract attention.”

So we play it cool. We slink along pretending we're dead bored with things. Once we're past the big sign that says: “GO-KARTING” I want to shout, “Yahoo!” But just then a woman with an English accent shouts, “Hey; that's the kid that was on the box last night. Sonny, come here a moment.”

We keep our heads down and walk on.

“Come here,” she hollers. “Jeremy, Nigel; catch him.”

Two big guys bounce out of somewhere and come after us like Usain Bolt.

“Move,” I say.

We leg it.

I'm ahead, but I drop back to push Fiona on. They're faster, but we've a good start and maybe we can dive into bushes and rocks somewhere, like I did when I fooled the police.

We're round a corner now, out of sight for a moment and I'm looking for a place to hide when she
trips. She gives a small squawk and she's down in a heap.

I grab her by the elbow and haul her to her feet, but she hasn't got her balance properly and after a couple of steps she's down again.

That's it. Bye-bye Aidan. Back to Paisley for me. I help her up, but there's no hurry now. We're screwed up.

“Keep going,” she screams.

“Get real. We're nicked.”

“No we're not.”

I look back and there's nobody chasing.

“These big guys, where'd they go?” I ask.

Then I see why Fiona tripped. We aren't on the road any more. It's a muddy track full of holes and ruts.

“Have to check this out,” I say. “Gotta make sure.”

I take her back round the corner to where we ought to be able to see the caravan site. It's not there, only trees and some bracken.

Fiona doesn't seem to realise what's happened, but then she's not done this before, like me.

I tell her, “We've made it to the old land.”

“But how?”

“Look.” I point. “There should be a sign that says: ‘GO-KARTING' – remember?”

She nods.

“Well, where is it?”

“'S not there any more.”

“Got it in one.”

“OK,” she says. “What do we do now?”

“We head for the dead dinosaur.”