The Minivers Fight Back Book 2 Read online

  ‘Gibraltar!’ Emily shot back into the cave. ‘There are Minivers security people down in the gully. They must have come in the helicopter!’

  ‘Our footprints! They’ll see them!’ Rosamund started running for the entrance. Gibraltar grabbed her by the shoulder.

  ‘Not that way. Out the back.’ Gibraltar hustled both girls towards the darkest part of the cave. ‘Remember, they can’t know for certain that we’re here. Keep calm and quiet, and do exactly as I say. Everything will be all right.’

  He pushed Emily and Rosamund into a narrow crack in the back wall of the cave. They emerged into pitch darkness. Emily stretched out her hands and felt nothing in front of her; she turned back, but could not find Rosamund either. Then a torch switched on and she saw her sister’s face illuminated palely by its wan light. Gibraltar was squeezing through the gap behind her, blocking the light and air from the cave behind.

  ‘Straight up,’ he said, nodding, and Emily saw that there was a sort of slope before her, covered with dirt and gravel. She started to climb, feeling, rather than seeing, where she was headed, and ignoring Rosamund’s complaints as the gravel showered down. After a minute or two, the slope narrowed to a shaft like a chimney and she came to a halt.

  ‘I’m stuck!’

  ‘It’s not far now.’ Gibraltar came up behind her and gave her a boost. Emily reached up. Her arms snagged in what felt like a tangle of roots, and she grabbed them and started to wriggle upwards. Dirt showered down on her face and she coughed and screwed up her eyes. Gibraltar gave one last shove from underneath and she popped up into a clump of bushes like a rabbit out of a hole.

  Emily rolled aside quickly to make room for Rosamund, and then Gibraltar. The three of them crouched in the bushes, looking down the hill in the direction of the creek. A line of men in blue Miniver House security uniforms was moving stealthily up the slope towards the cave. Emily bit her lip at the sight of the familiar faces. She glanced at Rosamund and saw that her expression was grim.

  ‘Come on,’ whispered Gibraltar. ‘There’s nothing we can do here.’

  He slipped into the trees and Rosamund followed obediently. As she stood up, Emily paused and looked out across the treetops. On the other side of the creek she could see the rock where she had lain and thought she was free. It had been a marvellous feeling. Emily could not help wondering if she would ever know it again.

  2

  The Forest

  Gibraltar headed uphill, away from the gully where the searchers had first been sighted, keeping to the thickest part of the forest. Emily and Rosamund carried their belongings in toddler-sized backpacks, slung over their shoulders. The packs were not particularly heavy but the going was rough. Since their tiny legs had to work three times as hard as Gibraltar’s, it was not long before they were panting from the effort.

  Bushes that came up to Gibraltar’s knees threatened to engulf them. Rocks he could easily step over had to be climbed or walked around. Gibraltar tried to choose the smoothest path, but as the ground grew steeper and the trees thicker, it was not always easy for him to do this. Often he had to stop and wait for Emily and Rosamund to catch up. Once or twice he even had to carry them, and though they both normally hated being treated like babies, for once neither girl protested.

  The helicopter could still be heard, sweeping over the trees. It was further off now, but it was obvious that it was following a search pattern, and that the pilot was communicating with the people on the ground. On the second hill, they stopped briefly for Gibraltar to consult his compass. Emily and Rosamund paused to catch their breath and swigged greedily from their water bottles.

  ‘Do you think they’re following us?’ Emily asked.

  ‘That depends,’ Gibraltar replied. ‘I didn’t see any dogs, but if the guards have them, they’ll already be on our trail.’

  ‘Dogs?’ Rosamund’s face went a trifle paler. At Miniver House the guards patrolled at night with trained Dobermans. They were taller than she was, and even on leashes she had always found them terrifying. ‘Do you mean, guard dogs?’

  ‘Bloodhounds,’ said Gibraltar. ‘Tracker animals, trained to find missing people, or bring down criminals. If they have them, they’ll have picked up our scent at the cave. There’s also the chance that we might meet another search party coming in the opposite direction. In either case, there’s nothing we can do. Our best hope of escape is to keep moving as quickly as possible.’

  Rosamund and Emily stopped asking questions. They put away their water bottles and followed Gibraltar to the top of the hill, where he struck out along a ridge that swung away to the west. The ground continued to climb slowly, and the forest grew so dense they lost all sense of direction. If she had felt small on the rock above the creek, thought Emily, she and Rosamund might as well have been insects here. The trees were taller and greener, and their canopies were so intertwined that they blotted out the sunlight. Some had fluted trunks that thrust out into the earth like the fins on a rocket. Others were ancient giants with gnarled curtains of trailing roots. It was cooler and quieter, though from time to time the bell-like calls of birds and the sound of running water echoed eerily through the stillness. Mosquitoes buzzed. Bracket fungi grew from fallen tree trunks, and there was a smell of leaf litter, mud and decay.

  Finally, Gibraltar called a halt. The Minivers were so tired that they dropped their bags and almost collapsed where they stood.

  ‘Here. Have something to eat.’ Gibraltar opened his backpack and brought out some biscuits and fruit. Emily sat down on a fallen log and ate several cheese crackers and a handful of sultanas. Rosamund devoured an apple. As they ate, they slapped at the mosquitoes hovering around them. Their arms and legs were already covered in bites and scratches from fighting through the undergrowth.

  ‘As soon as I get back to Artemisia,’ said Rosamund, tossing away her apple core, ‘I’m going to have a proper meal. Grilled steak and mashed potatoes, with tomato and green peas. I want a bath, too. I’m fed up with washing in creeks and puddles.’

  ‘Don’t get too hopeful. We’ve a long way to go yet,’ said Gibraltar. He looked around uneasily and checked his watch. ‘Come on. We’d better get moving again. It’ll be dark in an hour or two and we have to reach the road before nightfall.’

  Rosamund’s face fell. ‘Already?’ she protested. ‘Can’t we rest? I’m so tired. Five minutes now isn’t going to make any difference later.’

  ‘The longer you stop, the harder it will be to get going again,’ said Gibraltar, but at the sight of Emily’s white, exhausted face, he relented. ‘All right. Ten minutes rest, but no more. Wait here while I scout ahead.’

  ‘Why is he so worried?’ demanded Rosamund, as Gibraltar disappeared into the trees. ‘There’s no one around. We’re perfectly safe.’

  ‘I hope so.’ Emily shivered. The trees were so thick, it was impossible to see more than a few dozen paces in any direction. ‘I just wish we knew more about what’s happening in Artemisia. Who knows what we’re going to find when we get back? And what about Milly and Fiona? When I think about how we ran away and left them behind, I feel so ashamed.’

  ‘We didn’t have any choice, Emmie,’ said Rosamund. She understood perfectly why Emily was so worried. Fiona was one of their fans, a girl Emily’s age who had risked everything to help them, while Millamant, their old housekeeper, was like family. ‘Madame was after us. If we’d stayed any longer, we’d have been caught. Anyway, we do know where Milly is. Livia told us she was locked up in the Bridge House.’

  ‘She was locked up there,’ said Emily miserably. ‘That was two weeks ago. By now she could be anywhere, and Fiona, too.’

  Since Rosamund knew this was right, the conversation died. The Minivers sat together in silence, their ears strained for the sound of Gibraltar’s return. Rosamund’s thoughts strayed to what lay ahead. It occurred to her that in going home they were merely leaving the forest for a different kind of wilderness. Their old friends and their old lives were all gone. A
nd even if they discovered what mischief Madame was up to, they were powerless to stop her. Rosamund glanced over at Emily. She was still brooding, no doubt about Millamant. The fact made Rosamund uneasy, though she did not know why.

  At last Gibraltar re-emerged from the trees.

  ‘There’s a creek ahead,’ he reported. ‘We’re going to have to ford it, but it’s not impossible. On your feet, now. We can’t afford to hang around any longer.’

  Rosamund had grown cold sitting on the damp log, so she did not mind moving on quite as much as she had expected. She and Emily picked up their backpacks, and the three of them set off. Soon after they left the clearing, the ground began to slope away in front of them and the going became more difficult. Emily and Rosamund found themselves slipping in the mud, and clutched at vines and bushes to stop themselves from falling. The sound of rushing water could be heard somewhere below. They slithered down a steep slope, half on their bottoms, and emerged on the rocky banks of a swift-flowing creek.

  Gibraltar knelt and showed them his compass. ‘We have to cross here,’ he said. ‘The road’s due south on the other side. It doesn’t look too deep, but the water’s fast and it might be slippery, so it will be best if I carry you. Wait here, and I’ll work out the best place to cross.’

  Gibraltar stepped from rock to rock, looking for the safest way over the creek. Emily waited until Gibraltar was halfway over, then waded in a few steps after him. Her tiny legs sank deep into the water, and she gave a yelp of shock at the cold.

  ‘It’s freezing!’ The water churned around Emily’s hips and her teeth chattered. Rosamund hesitated on the bank, her oversized T-shirt held above her knees. She glanced down at her legs and saw that they were dotted with bits of mud from her slide down the slope. Rosamund bent down to brush them off, but they clung to her skin and would not shift. Finally a piece dropped off and a tiny trickle of blood ran down her calf. Rosamund stared in revolted disbelief and gave an ear-splitting shriek.

  ‘Leeches! Help, I’ve got leeches!’

  Gibraltar turned in the middle of the creek. He was too far away to do anything, but Emily immediately waded back a few paces and tried to pick the leeches off. Rosamund screamed again.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’

  ‘Rose, keep still, I’m trying to help!’ A blood-filled leech squished messily between Emily’s fingers. The sight of its swollen body bursting was more than Rosamund could stand, and as Emily reached for the next one she kicked out violently at her sister’s hand. Emily dodged, but she was standing on slippery rocks and her footing was precarious. Her arms flew up, her feet went out from under her, and she lost balance and fell with a smacking thud against a nearby rock.

  ‘Emily!’ Gibraltar sprang towards the bank, but it was too late. Emily hit the water with a splash. A small hand flailed up above the surface, and then the fast-moving current swept her into the deepest part of the creek and bore her away.

  ‘Wait!’ Rosamund saw Gibraltar diving into the water, and jumped after him without hesitation. She was a good swimmer, but the fast-flowing creek was nothing like the Miniver House swimming pool, and she realised immediately that she had made a mistake. The current was so powerful there was no way she could swim, or even grab hold of the rocks that were swirling past. Her arms and legs scraped and banged against them, and the backpack she was wearing weighed her down. Rosamund struggled against its straps and swallowed mouthfuls of freezing water. The current was dragging her under, and there was nothing she could do to keep from drowning.

  ‘Help!’ Rosamund gurgled. ‘Help!’ Suddenly a rock loomed up in front of her. She smashed painfully into it and tried to grab hold. In that instant a large hand grasped her wrist and yanked her to a stop.

  ‘If you want to avoid going back home,’ said Gibraltar, ‘you’re going the right way about it.’

  He dragged Rosamund to the opposite bank and pushed her up onto the rocks. Rosamund sprawled limply, coughing up water. Her teeth were chattering so hard she thought they would break, but it did not matter. Gibraltar was carrying Emily under his other arm. Her eyes were dazed and there was a bloody graze on her forehead, but she was conscious and alive. It was, Rosamund realised, far more than she deserved. Whatever awaited the two of them in Artemisia, it could not be worse than arriving there alone.

  At the back of an unkempt garden in Woodside, Artemisia, stood a shabby green aluminium shed. It was full of garden tools and fertilisers, and since its owner was not very fond of gardening it was rarely visited. Recently, however, the shed had been put to another purpose. An unseen prisoner was kicking frantically against its metal walls, and the sound of her sobs and shouts floated up the path to the house where the Minivers Fan Club Committee was meeting.

  ‘Let me out! Please! Let me out!’

  A young man with unkempt blond hair was sitting with his sneakered feet on Brenda Bertram’s kitchen table. It was Titus, the club’s Vice-President, and head of the mysterious organisation known as Operation Miniver. The sound of the prisoner’s screams seemed to amuse him, and he cocked his head in their direction.

  ‘Our Fiona’s certainly got a good set of lungs,’ he remarked.

  Holly, who liked to think of herself as Titus’s girlfriend, looked out of the window and scowled. ‘I wish she’d shut up.’

  ‘Yes,’ put in Len, the club’s treasurer. ‘If somebody hears her, we could be in awful trouble.’ Ron Burton, the Minivers’ former Chief of Security, said nothing, but the newest member of the committee looked scared, and winced. Brenda Bertram was Fiona’s mother. In a dim corner of her brain, she had an idea that the police did not approve of parents who locked their children up in toolsheds. Unfortunately for Fiona, Brenda was too afraid of Titus and Holly to say so.

  ‘You’re right, Len. We’ve heard enough,’ said Titus with a sigh. He took his feet off the table. ‘Go and let Fiona out, Holly. She’s been a very naughty girl.’

  Holly hopped up and disappeared down the back steps. Titus watched from the window until she reached the shed, then flicked the curtain closed and smiled at Brenda. A minute or two later, the flyscreen door banged open and Holly reappeared, dragging with her a sturdy girl with brown eyes and a tearstained, freckled face.

  Fiona Bertram had been on the run for nearly a fortnight. She had helped Emily and Rosamund Miniver escape from the Artemisia Funfair on the very night when Titus had planned their capture, and then she herself had fled. After ten days of sleeping under bridges and eating out of rubbish bins, her hair was matted and her clothes were filthy. Yet even now, after being locked up in the shed on bread and water, a hint of defiance lingered in her eyes. Though Holly forced her to sit down in the chair opposite Titus, Fiona could not stop herself struggling.

  For a moment there was silence. Holly stood beside Fiona’s chair, ready to shove her back into it if necessary, while Brenda went white and pressed her hands together. Fiona glared at Titus and tried to hold onto a mental picture of Emily Miniver. Emily had outwitted Titus, not once, but three times. If she could do it, so could Fiona. But then, Emily had not been locked up in the shed. It had been hot in there, dark and airless, and it stank of chemicals and mower fuel. Fiona had hoped vainly that her mother might come to free her, but Brenda had never been able to stand up to Titus. The dreadful fear Fiona had been pushing down for days welled up again inside her. Under Titus’s stern gaze, the image of Emily Miniver, so brave and tiny and tough, slowly faded from her mind.

  ‘You’ve been a very naughty girl, Fiona,’ said Titus mildly. ‘You’ve given us all a lot of trouble. But I’ve got some good news for you. We’re going to give you another chance.’

  Fiona tried to meet Titus’s eyes, but his expression was too dreadful, and she could not do it. Holly’s fingers dug into her neck and she trembled in her chair. Titus waited a moment, then continued.

  ‘All I want from you is information. I need to know where you met the Minivers, who is helping them and what they’re planning.’

  Fion
a looked at her lap. Titus spoke again, even more softly than before.

  ‘So. It’s to be like that, is it, Fiona? Think very carefully. I can always send you back to the shed.’ Fiona glanced up, and Titus caught the flicker of fear in her eyes. ‘Perhaps … with just water this time? I know how hard it is for a growing girl to go hungry, but –’ he shrugged expressively, ‘– you’re not really giving us very much choice, are you?’

  Holly picked up a piece of squashy bun from a plate on the table. She pulled it apart and ate the pieces, bit by bit. Brenda swallowed and pressed her hands into a tight little ball.

  ‘Emily Miniver is my friend,’ said Fiona. She lifted her eyes and fastened them steadily on Titus. ‘My friend. I’m glad I helped her escape. I’d do it all over again, if I had the chance –’ Fiona stopped. The expression in Titus’s eyes had just crossed into his whole face.

  ‘Thank you, Fiona,’ said Titus evenly. ‘I’m glad you feel Emily is your friend. From my own point of view, however, you are becoming a great nuisance. There is a place where nuisances are sent and I am going to send you there now. Maybe, when you’ve had time to think things over, you might change your mind. Holly – deal with it.’

  Holly dusted her sticky hands on her jeans and grabbed Fiona by the collar. Fiona screamed and struggled, but Holly was strong. She yanked Fiona off the chair and onto her feet. Fiona kicked and fought back, biting and scratching at Holly’s arm. A chair tipped over. Fiona grabbed the table and held on with all her might.

  ‘Mummy!’ she screamed. ‘Mummy, help me!’

  Brenda looked away. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, and she reached for her handkerchief. ‘Oh dear,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Oh, dear.’