How To Avoid Death On A Daily Basis: Book One (13 page)

As we waited for the girls to come back, Dudley continued to try and stack the stones even though no one told him to and we weren’t shouting at him any more. He just wanted to do it. Once an idea took hold in that brain of his, it really took hold.

“So,” said Maurice, “we going back in there, then?”

I nodded. “They’ll be ready for us this time, but I think we can still take them. That spear he had looked pretty nasty, but he could hardly hold it. If we rush him, I don’t think he’ll be able to stop us.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Maurice. “There was something else I wanted to ask you. About Claire.”

I turned to face him. “Oh? What?”

“Is there something going on between you two? Just wondering, you know, because you’re always at each other’s throats. If this was movie, the couple that’s always fighting are the ones who end up together at the end, right?”

“If this was a romantic comedy, maybe. But this more like a horror movie. Believe me, there’s nothing going on. Why? Are you interested in her?”

“Who me? No. No, of course not. I mean, I’m probably not her type.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and I’m pretty sure he was blushing, although it’s hard to tell with black people who have very dark skin like him. And no, that’s not racist.

Claire and Flossie returned and I told everyone we were going to try again. They looked a bit apprehensive, but no one objected. Flossie had calmed down but was smiling more than normal, although I couldn’t tell if she was pleased at being told she had a sexy bum or grinning out of embarrassment. Maybe a bit of both. We made our way back to the cave and prepared ourselves once more.

I pointed my finger at Dudley. “This time, get hold of the guy and don’t let go. Doesn’t matter what happens to the rest of us, that’s your only job.”

Dudley nodded, his face a picture of earnest determination.

I turned to the others. “Ready?”

“Hold on,” said Maurice and he started fiddling with the collar of his onesie. I’ve mentioned before that it had a Batman theme, although it wasn’t made to look like a costume, it just had lots of bat insignia printed on it. So it was a bit of a surprise when Maurice unzipped part of the collar and pulled out a hood. Or should I say cowl. With little bat ears.

It covered most of his face and the eye holes didn’t quite match where his eyes were, although when he put his glasses back on, they sort of held the mask in place.

“Right,” he said in a low growl. “Let’s do this.”

I didn’t say anything. I was just thankful he didn’t want to wear one of the blankets as a cape.

We stormed into the tunnel and ran all the way down. We burst into the end room, ready for battle, to find it completely empty.

This wasn’t completely unexpected. I had told them about the trapdoor and when I went over to the rug—a large mat woven out of reeds—and pointed at it, they all understood. I bent down and whisked the rug away, to reveal… the ground. No trapdoor, no sign of any kind of entrance.

I got down on my knees and looked closer. I brushed away the dirt to try and find any edges or a hidden handle. Nothing.

“Are you sure it was there?” asked Maurice.

“Definitely.”

Was it a magic door? Or just really well hidden? I went over to the fire which, was still burning away, and picked up the pot hanging over it. The contents were a fishy stew. I returned to where I had seen the trapdoor and poured out the contents of the pot.

The steaming liquid spread out and then sank into invisible crevices, showing the outline of the door and a flat circular handle. I was about to yank it open but before I had a chance the door flew open and with a yell the old mouse leapt out of the hole carrying the spear.

I’m not sure how good real mice are at jumping—Dudley obviously would know, but I didn’t want to distract him—but the mouse-man was out in one bound. He waved the spear at us. It was too big for him to hold properly, so the end drooped, but it could still inflict a nasty wound so no one wanted to get too close.

“You will all die here,” he squeaked. “Death is your reward for attacking the innocent.” Behind him, the female mouse had emerged and held onto his shoulder, like she was lining him up.

It made me feel a bit awkward to hear him talk. A wild beast was one thing, but this was an actual person. We all stood around, unsure how to proceed.

“Listen to me,” said the mouse. “I am prepared to allow you to leave. We are peace-loving people. If you leave us alone, we will leave you alone.”

“I heard you, before,” I said. “You were planning to attack us as soon as more of your men arrive. You aren’t peace-loving.”

The mouse jabbed his spear at me. “Only to defend ourselves! We were attacked in our sleep by your people. Slaughtered. We will find those cowards and deliver justice. That is our right.”

He had a point. Were we really heroes fighting monsters here? It didn’t feel like it. I lowered my spike.

“Now!” screamed the mouse. The female behind him threw out some kind of dust that filled the air. My eyes stung, making it hard to see. I heard the others call out in pain. Then, almost too late, I saw the spear coming right at me. I lurched sideways so it went between my body and arm and grabbed hold of the shaft. A push-pull struggle ensued.

Batman, of course, was unaffected. Not because of the outfit, but because he wore glasses. Maurice, jumped in and shoved the female. Through blurry vision I saw her suddenly disappear. Not by magic, she had fallen down the hole.

The mouse turned to check on her and I yanked the spear out of his grasp. Dudley swooped in. He grabbed the mouse from behind, wrapping his arm around the creature’s tiny throat, and lifted him off the ground. I moved in, wiping away tears with my sleeve.

The madly kicking feet and whipping tail made it hard to get close, so I kicked it between the legs hoping to hit mouse balls, assuming he had them. I must have hit something, or maybe winded him, because he stopped struggling. I dived in and started stabbing. My vision was still blurred and my aim was a bit wild, so I hit Dudley’s arm a couple of times. He didn’t let go.

I could feel the spike enter the mouse’s head, strike against the skull, push through to its brain. After five or six direct hits, the mouse went limp. I retreated, breathing hard. The girls were still trying to see straight, most of the dust had gone in their direction.

Maurice picked up the fallen spear and walked over to the hole just as the female mouse jumped out screaming, something held aloft in her hand. Instinctively, Maurice thrust the spear forward and sent the tip straight into her open mouth and out the other side. She fell to the floor. The thing in her hand was a rock.

Maurice dropped his end of the spear which was stuck in the mouse’s mouth. He looked stunned. Dudley was still holding the male mouse in a vice-like grip, taking his newly learned lesson to heart. 

“You can let go now, Dudley,” I said.

He nodded and the dead mouse slumped into a heap next to the female. We had won. Or at least, we hadn’t died, which was a victory in itself. Now, someone had to go down the hole and claim our reward.

Everyone stood around trying not to look at the bodies of the mice. We’d managed to keep going on pure adrenalin during the fight, but now it all looked very real, and very much like a crime scene.

“Dudley, you know the washing line outside? Pull it down and bring it in here. Maurice, go get the sacks from the island. Claire, take Flossie to the pond and wash her eyes out, she looks like she’s still got some of the dust in there. I’ll take care of this.” I pointed at the bodies without looking at them.

They all stood still for a moment—I thought they were going to have a go at me for trying to boss them around—but they turned and went off as instructed. I didn’t particularly feel like giving orders, but they needed to stop dwelling on what we’d just done and I think they were glad to have something to do. The other reason for my sudden take-charge attitude was that I really needed to be alone.

As soon as they’d gone, I sat on the ground with a bump and burst into tears. I know, just when you think I couldn’t get any more manly. It wasn’t really crying, more shuddering sobs that lasted for about ten seconds and that was it. I think my body just needed to get it out.

Once it was over, I stood up feeling calm. No, not calm, numb. An emotion I welcomed.

Getting the spear out of the female mouse’s head was a nightmare. It wouldn’t come out the way it had entered, so I had to push it all the way through and pull it out the other end. Even more horrible than it sounds.

I put the bodies next to each other. Dudley came in carrying the rope with laundry still attached. I took the cloths and laid them over the mice, not out of respect, just so we wouldn’t have to looked at them.

The others arrived a few moments later. The atmosphere was pretty wretched and they were all waiting for me to tell them what to do. I took a torch out of the sack and lit it off the fire. It burnt quite well, although I could tell it wouldn’t last long. I had a look down the hole. It was deeper than I’d expected although wide enough to allow me down. Someone smaller would probably have an easier time, but I couldn’t see either or the girls volunteering.

Before I attempted it, I did a quick survey of the other rooms. They had been too dark to search before, but now I had the torch. I didn’t bother explaining what I was doing, the others just followed.

The rooms were all empty apart from straw bedding against each wall. There were also dark splotches on the floor and walls. I guessed they were blood splatters from when the mice were killed, but I didn’t say anything.

The last room we checked had a broken lantern in it. This was the source of the glass I had cut myself on. A lantern would be more useful than the torch (which was already spluttering its last). I stuck the torch inside the lantern as best I could and the wick caught light. I could feel liquid splosh around inside the base, but without glass the light wasn’t very bright. But bright enough.

I assumed it ran on oil, although where you got oil from I had no idea.

We returned to the hole. Dudley and Maurice held onto one end of the rope and lowered me down. I was relieved when I hit bottom—I had been worried the rope wouldn’t be long enough. There was a tunnel leading away but I had to get on my hand and knees to enter it. I’m not claustrophobic, but squeezing myself through made my scalp tingle and my heart palpitate. With all the craziness going on, I had forgotten what a wuss I was. I tried to calm myself and forced myself forward. The tunnel narrowed even more so I had to crawl on my stomach, pushing the lantern ahead of me. I could taste dirt in my mouth and feel the walls tighten around me.

I finally reached the end and it opened into a small cavern, large enough for me to sit up. In a corner there was a roll of parchment. What was it? A treasure map? A magic scroll? I unrolled it.

A piece of charcoal fell out. The page was covered in drawings. Quite realistic poses of the female mouse, on her back, legs open showing her privates. In detail. A lot of close-up detail.

After a few moments of trying to make sense of what I was looking at I started laughing. What an idiot. I had come to a strange fantastical world and turned myself into someone prepared to kill for porn. The other could probably hear my maniacal laughter and must have thought I’d gone insane. Maybe I had.

I left the mouse porn in the little cave and made my way back out. Going up was a lot harder than coming down, but with Maurice and Dudley pulling me up I finally returned to the surface, panting and sweating, covered in dirt.

“Did you find anything?” asked Maurice.

“No, nothing. We should get back. And we’ll have to take them with us.” I pointed to the covered mice.

“Do we really have to?” asked Claire.

“Yes. I don’t know what they’re worth, but I’m not skinning them. We still need money though, unless you want to eat more turd-bunnies.”

That thought was enough to convince them to grit their teeth and just do it.

We bound the mice up in their cloth shrouds and grabbed an end each. The female turned out to be heavier than the male, so me and Dudley took her. The other three carried the male by pushing the spear through the rope bindings and lifting it, with Maurice at one end and the girls at the other.

It was later afternoon when we set off around the pond with two dead mice and a broken lantern. If that had been my reward for a quest in an RPG, I think I would have uninstalled the game. Sadly, I didn’t have that option.

It was only when we reached the clearing that I remembered the bunnicorns. The last thing we needed was to be attacked by them. I signalled the others to stop and crept forward to see if they were still about.

They were. The clearing was full of them, lying on their backs, snuggling with each other. Whatever disagreements they’d had, they seemed to have sorted them out.

Very quietly, we skirted the edge of the clearing and found our way out of the forest. Despite my concerns, it was fairly easy to recognise the way we’d come, the marks we’d left on the trees providing reassurance we were going in the right direction, but that was all.

Out in the open, with a gentle breeze cooling us off, I was able to relax a little. I hadn’t realised how tense I had become until then. We could have taken a break but no one wanted to stop.

By the time we reached Probet, the light was starting to fade. I headed for the shed. If Grayson was still there I had some questions to ask him, finally.