TIME QUAKE (40 page)

‘Stop thief!’ someone cried.

‘After him!’ cried another.

The herb garden was instantly swarming with redcoats and servants bearing flaming torches. The Tar Man undid his belt and returned to his original position under the oak tree. Gideon was running as fast as his legs would carry him towards his brother, pursued by a growing crowd of shouting men.

‘Take hold of my belt, I will lift you,’ he shouted down to him.

Gideon was so close now the Tar Man could hear him panting.
As soon as he felt the tug on his belt he started to heave, locking one leg around a bough of the tree as leverage. He pulled with all his might but at this angle Gideon was too heavy for him. The crowd was hot on his brother’s heels. The Tar Man tried again, straining with the terrible effort, but this time he was helped by Gideon who pressed his toes in the shallow cracks between the bricks and pushed himself up. A charging redcoat in full cry aimed his bayonet at Gideon’s back. The Tar Man let out a great shout and suddenly Gideon found himself flying through the air. He caught hold of the top of the wall and then balanced precariously on one foot while he steadied himself on the tree trunk and on his brother’s shoulder.

‘Thank you,’ Gideon croaked as they climbed down the tree on the other side of the wall. ‘They’ll not be able to climb it from that side – they must fetch a ladder or go by way of the road. If we make haste we can lose them.’

The two men dropped to the ground and began to run in the direction of the crypt and their horses. When they reached a small copse, the Tar Man slowed down a little and turned to Gideon.

‘Tell me you found the key, at least!’

‘Ay, I have the key – even though Martha, the scullery maid, came upon me skulking in the pantry. The lass took pity on me. She fetched the key and helped me to escape besides.’

‘Ha! You and your pretty face!’

They ran on through masses of bracken, tripping over stones and the roots of trees. After five minutes of this, Gideon, whose injuries were slowing him down, had to stop. The Tar Man stood with his hands on his waist and waited.

‘Were the children in the carriage with the Parson?’

Gideon was stooped over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. ‘I do not think so.’

Presently Gideon stood up and turned full circle and listened. Hearing nothing, he knelt down and put his ear to the ground. He stood up again and shook his head.

‘No one has been murdered in their bed. They will have given up the chase by now,’ said the Tar Man. ‘And if they have not, I doubt they will guess our direction – why should a thief make for a graveyard?’

‘I hope you are right.’

‘We shall soon find out. Give me the key while I think on it.’

Gideon reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, ornate key. The Tar Man took it.

‘Good. But why the devil have a gang of redcoats set up camp at Tempest House?’

‘Now,
that
I do know,’ said Gideon. ‘The kitchens and servants’ hall were full of officers playing cards. It is why I could not get to William’s key cabinet. Martha told me that Lord Luxon may take them to the colonies where he is acquiring land. It seems that while he decides what to do with them, they grow impatient of waiting for their marching orders . . .’

Gideon and the Tar Man ran on through moonlit fields, stumbling and stopping for breath, straining to hear if they were pursued. A cloud passed over the moon and it was so dark that, tired of having their faces slashed by unseen branches, they were forced to walk with their arms bent in front of them. It was the sound of one of the horses whinnying that told them they had arrived at the crypt. There was a thick carpet of dry leaves under the giant beeches that sheltered the Luxon crypt from the elements and as Gideon and the Tar Man made their way blindly forward there was a great rustling and a cracking of twigs.

‘Who’s there?’ asked a small and nervous voice.

‘Master Peter?’ cried Gideon. ‘It is I, Gideon, and the Tar Man.’

‘I’m so glad you’ve come at last!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘It’s so spooky here.’

The moon came out again from behind a cloud and shafts of bluish light penetrated the tree cover.

‘But why did the Parson leave you here by yourselves?’ asked Gideon.

‘We knew you’d arrived because we found the cart and horses. But we waited and waited for you. We were beginning to get anxious. Parson Ledbury and the driver went off to Tempest House to see if there was any sign of you. He was going to ask for some water and see what he could find out. We wanted to go with him but he refused because . . . because . . .’

Kate finished off his sentence. ‘Because I look like a ghost.’

Kate stepped out of shadow into the moonlight. The Tar Man backed away from her.

‘I am truly sorry we gave you cause to worry,’ said Gideon, trying to conceal his own reaction to Kate’s appearance, ‘but, as you can see, here we are, safe and sound. And we have the key to the crypt.’

The Tar Man snorted. ‘Ay, Gideon filched the key, and alerted a band of redcoats to our presence into the bargain.’

‘Redcoats?’ asked Kate.

‘Soldiers,’ Gideon explained. ‘They have not followed us.’

‘Is Parson Ledbury all right?’ asked Peter. ‘Where is he?’

‘He is doubtless on his way back as we speak,’ Gideon replied. ‘Let us move the device onto the cart while we wait—’

‘No,’ said the Tar Man sharply. ‘I shall not hand over the device yet. First I need some assurance that Mistress Dyer has told us the truth. Let her prove to me that she knows the secret code.’

‘If you like,’ said Kate, hoping that what Dr Pirretti had told her had not been some terrible hallucination.

‘There is no need for that,’ said Gideon fiercely, ‘Mistress Kate is no liar. And the hour is late and it is dark. Let us wait until morning.’

‘Yes,’ said Peter, who was half-convinced that Kate was bluffing. ‘Let’s wait until daylight for that.’

‘It’s all right,’ said Kate, turning to the Tar Man. ‘If
you
unlock the crypt and show us that the anti-gravity machine really is in there,
I
will key in the code.’

The Tar Man fetched a candle and his tinderbox from the wagon and presently a small flame illuminated the darkness. The Tar Man inserted the heavy key into the lock. He tried to turn it but it would not. Kate and Peter exchanged glances. The candlelight illuminated the heavy grain of the wooden door and the elaborate wrought iron lock.

‘Damn your eyes, Gideon!’ exclaimed the Tar Man. ‘You’ve got the wrong key!’

‘No! It is the key, I am sure of it!’

Gideon took the key from his brother’s hand and inserted it again. They all held their breath as he turned it. There was a satisfying click.

‘Phew!’ said Peter.

The Tar Man said nothing. A smell of damp and musty air hit them as the door of the crypt creaked open. Gideon disappeared into the impenetrable darkness followed by the Tar Man. They found a fat candle on a sconce close to the door and they lit that, too. Soon they could all see the anti-gravity machine by its guttering light. Kate could also see many thick cobwebs and at least two big spiders. She hated spiders. She pointed to the biggest one and saw by Peter’s face that he was not too keen on them either.

‘Very well, Mistress Dyer,’ said the Tar Man. ‘To work.’

Peter and Kate walked over to the incongruous object in the
corner of the crypt. The anti-gravity machine was as tall and wide as a big man and it had a transparent dome. Kate examined it as best she could in the weak light. It looked the same as Tim Williamson’s machine – her dad and Dr Pirretti must have made an exact replica. Kate flicked the on/off switch and they heard a familiar humming sound.

‘Yes!’ cried Peter, holding up the palm of his hand for Kate to strike in a high five.

She struck it, though he could barely feel anything. But for the first time both of them started to believe that they might actually get home! The machine was here and in working order. The Tar Man had not tricked them! The Tar Man pointed to a luminous display without comment. It read:
Please enter six-digit code
. Kate nodded. Peter looked at her and she could tell by the fear in his eyes that he was not convinced that she knew it.

Kate knelt down and tried to key in the first number. But nothing appeared on the display. She did it again and again. Still nothing. Kate started to panic and looked wildly up at Peter.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know!’

‘Well, have another go, then . . .’

Kate tried again. Still nothing. The Tar Man’s face betrayed no emotion.

Suddenly Gideon shot to the doorway. ‘Someone’s coming!’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Let us hope it is the Parson!’

Gideon stepped outside and Peter stood up in alarm, dragging Kate with him. When Gideon reappeared he did not need to explain. They all heard the sound of a crowd of people descending on them. Gideon hurriedly removed the key from the door, slammed it shut and locked it from the inside with seconds to spare. Someone threw themselves against the door. It happened
again, only this time it was accompanied by oaths and shouting. Then they heard the sound of feet on the roof and a scraping noise as someone slid off a slate roof tile.

‘Quickly, Mistress Dyer,’ warned the Tar Man.

He meant her to set the machine off! . . . All at once there was a tremendous crash, so loud it hurt their ears.

‘What was that?’ cried Peter.

Two seconds later and there was another explosive
crash
!

‘Quickly!’ urged the Tar Man. ‘They have a battering ram.’

Kate and Peter knelt down and Kate tried to key in her date of birth once more.

‘I know what the problem is,’ said Peter. ‘Your fingers aren’t strong enough to press the keys! Here, let me try. Tell me the code!’

Another terrifying
crash
. The Tar Man put his eye to the keyhole.

‘They’ve ripped up a tree! There must be twenty of them, at least!’

Kate called out the numbers. Meanwhile Gideon and the Tar Man looked around for anything that they could use to block the doorway. There was nothing, nothing at all. Only themselves. Then, through a hole in the roof, an unseen hand pushed in bundles of hay that had been set alight. Kate screamed. Gideon ran over to the far end of the crypt and started to stamp on it but there was too much and more was being pushed down. Smoke filled the crypt and everyone started to cough.

‘Please! Mistress Dyer,’ spluttered the Tar Man. ‘I am not fond of the smell of roasting flesh. Especially my own!’

Peter keyed in the last number.

Suddenly Kate dropped to her knees. She peered at a setting in a second display window.

‘Pass me the candle!’ she shouted at the Tar Man.

He thrust the candle at Peter, who placed it shakily on the ground next to the machine. The redcoats rammed the door again. This time the wood started to splinter. It would not survive another blow.

‘Six point seven seven megawatts,’ Kate read. ‘I’m not making that mistake again! It’s okay. We can go!’

The anti-gravity machine made a tiny beep. Some letters appeared in the digital display. Kate read:
Security Code accepted. Continue YES or NO?

Peter selected
YES
and pushed the Enter key. Somewhere in the machine a procedure was initiated. A second sound was audible. The generator had started up. Kate and Peter looked at each other. Kate gripped Peter’s hand tightly.

‘Don’t let go of me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what this will do to me . . .’

‘I won’t – I promise.’

There was another explosive crash. Kate heard hinges being wrenched from the heavy door frame. The Tar Man dived towards the machine. It was at that instant that Gideon realised that he was not meant to be going with them. He stepped away from the anti-gravity machine and pressed his back against the wall of the crypt. Peter looked from Kate to Gideon and back again in panic as the spirals started to fill his mind. They could see torchlight through the door and a scrabble of redcoats, like hounds baying at a cornered fox, sensing the kill.

‘Gideon!’ Peter screamed.

But it was the Tar Man who grabbed hold of his brother’s arm and hauled him towards them . . .

The instant that Sir Richard’s carriage drew up outside the crypt, Parson Ledbury jumped down and ran towards the commotion.
He bellowed at the soldiers to calm themselves and cease demolishing a tomb erected to the sacred memory of Lord Luxon’s ancestors! But the redcoats were too roused to listen to a man of the cloth and they rammed the door yet again, the noise of it, like thunder, echoing into the night. Parson Ledbury started to push through them, determined to stand between the redcoats and the door of the crypt, if necessary. But all at once the redcoats did stop. Very suddenly and of their own accord. By the light of flaming torches, the now terrified foot soldiers saw their hands sink into the silvery trunk of the young birch they were using as a battering ram. The men pulled away from it in terror and stepped backwards away from the crypt, yet the tree trunk did not drop to the ground! The birch was dissolving before their eyes! Abruptly the whole tree trunk vanished. The redcoats stood there, shocked and afraid. The Parson walked past them and peered through the demolished door into the crypt. Thick white smoke billowed out of the gaping hole and escaped into the night. The Parson took out a handkerchief and put it over his nose and mouth. A galaxy of sparks glowed scarlet in the piles of blackened hay but there were no flames. Through watering eyes Parson Ledbury saw the candle lit in the sconce. There was no other sign that anyone had been here. He saw no trace of Kate nor Peter nor Gideon nor the Tar Man – nor of the anti-gravity machine.