Victor’s forces milled around the house while Willie barked furiously, pawing at the shutters.
“There’s nobody in the garage.” One soldier tossed a pair of spark plugs to his boss. “But we took these out of the van so they can’t use it to escape.”
“Good work.”
“We’re making an awful lot of noise, though.”
“Forget it. Bellbowrie village is three miles away. We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“What if the kids call the police?” another soldier asked.
“Not after breaking a killer out of prison, you fool,” Victor pointed out. “Force the front door.”
The man stepped back, took a run and hit the entrance with a broad shoulder. There was a loud crackle and he was lifted off the ground, soaring backwards into a flower bed.
“It’s electrified,” he moaned in pain. “I’ve broken my arm.”
Hill fired point-blank at the lock until it shattered. He gave a swift kick and the door burst open. “Rubber soled boots,” he grunted, shaking his legs. “Still gave me a bit of a tingle.”
The interior of the house was pitch-black and silent.
“Hmm.” Victor regarded the entrance with suspicion. “The word ‘trap’ springs to mind.”
“They’re the ones who are trapped,” Hill replied confidently. “With the shutters down and only one door they’ve got no way out.”
“I never underestimate my enemy.” Victor hung back. “It’s why I’m still alive.”
“I’ll send Willie first.” Hill was holding the hound’s collar while he whined and strained to get free. “He has the boy’s scent.”
He let go and his dog rushed inside, claws scrabbling on the tiled floor, until the darkness swallowed him up.
Victor leaned into the hall and flicked a light switch on and off. It had no effect. “Let’s give the mutt time to find his prey. No sense in taking chances.”
*
Willie padded through the house and into the kitchen, sniffing the ground. He lifted a mottled head and drew back his muzzle, revealing huge bared teeth, coated with mucus.
The quarry was in here.
It put two massive paws on the counter and nosed at a cupboard.w
The door flew open and Charlie, curled inside, blew a handful of pepper into the dog’s face. Willie retreated with a yelp, eyes streaming, scraping frantically at his muzzle.
The boy leapt down and shot out of the room before his four-legged adversary could recover. Slamming the door behind him, he raced into the study.
*
Victor waited a couple of minutes, looking at the luminous dial on his watch.
“I don’t hear anyone getting chomped.”
“Me neither.” Hill looked concerned. “I hope Willie’s all right.”
“Right, we’re going in blind.” Victor started forwards. “Three of you stay and guard the entrance.”
The rest of the squad switched on their torches and carefully followed him. “Search the house from top to bottom.”
The soldiers spread out, some heading up the stairs, others disappearing into rooms.
“Be very careful,” the leader added. “He may not look like much, but Charlie can fight like a demon. I’ve had first-hand experience.” Victor entered the study, followed by Hill, and began checking every nook and cranny. In the kitchen, Willie had recovered and started whining.
“Let’s see what’s up with that stupid dog.”
They opened the kitchen door and the hound staggered out, eyes streaming.
“Fat lot of good he did.” Victor glowered at the animal.
“He’s not out of the game yet.” Hill wiped the dog’s face with his sleeve. “Get him, boy!”
Willie put his nose to the floor again and followed Charlie’s scent into the room they had just vacated.
“This place is empty, Scooby Doo,” Victor reprimanded. “I already looked.”
“Give him a chance, chief.”
The dog sniffed its way round the furniture, sneezing occasionally. Finally it stopped at the large stone fireplace and began to howl, looking round at his master with bloodshot eyes.
“Oh, you clever little swine,” Hill breathed. “He’s gone up the chimney.”
“Take three men and get outside. Shoot him off the roof if you have to.”
Victor was about to accompany Hill when he spotted a computer on the desk by the window.
“I’ll be along in a minute.”
*
Charlie inched his way skywards, arms above his head, using fingertips, knees and feet to propel himself. Soot clogged his mouth and coated his face, so he kept both eyes tightly shut. At one point the stone duct formed an ‘S’ and he had to contort his body to squeeze through. The motion dislodged an avalanche of ash, but he held his breath and kept squirming upwards.
As his lungs were about to burst, he felt the rough clay of a chimney pot. He pulled with all his strength and popped out of the top like an old-fashioned sweep.
Charlie slumped onto the slate roof and lay there, coughing and spluttering, inhaling the cold night air and staring at the stars.
“That was a deeply disturbing experience.”
He heard the front door open and men spill out, led by Willie. If he dropped down now, the dog would be on him within seconds.
Charlie stood up and wiped grime from his eyes. Thirty feet away was the tree house, nestled in the branches of a huge oak. Though it had a vast spread, the closest boughs were still a formidable distance away.
He thought about the gymnasts he had watched on TV. They made it look so easy. Perhaps it was.
The boy took a few deep breaths and sprinted along the roof, taking longer strides as he reached the edge. He launched himself into the air, arms outstretched.
“There he is!” someone shouted. “My God! The kid’s insane!”
“Open fire!”
Charlie flew towards the tree and grasped one of the outer branches. Using momentum to propel himself, he swung forwards, tucking both legs under his body. He somersaulted, grabbed another branch and repeated the motion. Bullets tore into the leaves as he straightened up and shot, feet first, through the tree house door. He skidded along the wooden floor and crashed into the far wall.
“Ooh.” He massaged his spine. “My tailbone hurts.”
*
“Who’s going up after him?” The soldiers looked apprehensively at the structure far above their heads.
“Nobody.” Hill snatched a machine gun from one of the underlings and opened fire. Bullets slammed into the tree house floor, sending a down a mist of wood chips and splinters. The man kept his finger on the trigger until the magazine was empty.
“He’s certainly dead now.” The soldier took the gun back with a frown. “How are we going to collect the blood?”
“Catch the drips in a bucket for all I care.” Hill whistled to Willie. “Go fetch his corpse, boy.”
The dog loped over the tree and planted both paws against the bark.
“Um… dogs can’t climb, sir.”
“Try telling that to Willie.”
As the men looked on in astonishment, the hound dug pointed claws into the wood and began to haul itself up the oak.
*
In the tree house, Charlie sat up and patted himself for bullet holes. He was completely unhurt.
“Nice one, Mac.”
A few days ago, to test the effectiveness of their doctored liquid soap, Daffodil had poured it across the floor of the tree house. Whenever night fell and the temperature dropped, it congealed into a solid resin, as impenetrable as any shield.
“Now I just have to figure out how to get out of this situation.”
There was a scratching sound outside and a massive white head appeared in the doorway, blocking the moon.
“Aww!” Charlie shuddered. “You have got to be kidding.”
Willie pulled himself into the tree house, quivering lips drawn back over slavering fangs. The boy scuttled backwards on his butt until he hit the wall again.
“Nice doggie,” he whispered, trying not to make any sudden moves. “I’m not tasty, honestly. Please go away.”
Willie crept forwards and arched his back, preparing to spring.
“Pssst.” In the corner of the tree house, a shape rose out of the blackness, no more than a shadow itself. “Try me for size, Muttley.”
The dog spun round and launched itself at the stranger.
The White Spider grabbed it by the neck and the hound gave a strangled yelp. It dangled from the man’s outstretched arms, claws paddling in empty air.
“Don’t hurt him,” Charlie pleaded. “It’s not the poor brute’s fault. He was trained to kill.”
“A bit like myself.” The Spider leaned forwards until his face was inches from the dog’s muzzle. “Don’t worry. I may not be fond of humans, but I’m quite partial to animals.”
He bared his teeth and growled, eyes searing into Willie’s. The dog began whimpering, trying to turn its head from side to side, but it was unable to break the vice-like grip.
“Run away, puppy,” the Spider chuckled. “I’m the big bad wolf in this territory.”
He dropped the hound to the floor as if it were piece of discarded litter and helped Charlie to his feet.
“So. Now that you’ve given away my hidey-hole, how’s the battle going?”
*
Willie leapt from the tree house and landed on all fours, shaking with fear.
“What’s wrong, boy?” Hill approached him. “Where’s the body?”
The dog sank its teeth into his arm and he jumped back, cursing. “Willie! What are you playing at?”
The hound turned and tore off across the clearing, yelping in fear, until he disappeared into the woods.
“This kid is a devil.” One of the soldiers crossed himself. “Literally.”
“Then let’s send him to hell.” Hill holstered his pistol and began to climb the tree. “Follow me.”