The words ‘link hands’ rang out loud. Kayleb looked down at his donkey and wondered how he was supposed to manoeuvre her alongside the donkey in front, so that he could hold the hand of the rider. Tugging hard on the reins, Kayleb squeezed with his legs, but this only made the donkey stop. In panic, Kayleb kicked the donkey’s sides frantically, and this, fortunately, had the desired effect. A few moments later Kayleb was holding Indigo’s hand.
Rowan, however, who was at the back of the group, wasn’t having any success with his donkey. The donkey was more interested in investigating the lush green grass that grew on the river’s edge. Instead of catching up with the others, Rowan found himself heading down towards the edge of the water in search of the succulent grass.
Several wasters approached the travellers. Their clothes were ragged and they looked bloodthirsty and menacing. The wasters circled them and looked greedily at the donkeys and seemed extremely interested in everyone’s backpacks.
It’s our lucky day,’ called one of the wasters, rubbing his hands together. ‘There we woz, minding our own business, when you lot came out of nowhere to bring us presents!’
A particularly mean waster stood near Cornwall. He grimaced with an evil grin, his black teeth sticking out like jagged rocks.
‘Look what I’ve found, our very own Cornwall Keyboard, come back to us after all dis time. Well, ain’t that nice. Wot yer doing ere? You should be wiv us, not these nice people. What do yer fink, boys?’
‘In your dreams, Volvo!’ shouted Cornwall angrily, her knuckles whitening as her grip tightened on David’s hand.
Volvo tried to grab Cornwall, but found that he couldn’t touch her. By holding one of her hands, David had managed to create a force field around her, protecting her and everyone else in the chain from harm. This outraged the wasters and they tried again and again to break through the force field. Their attempts were futile. Kayleb was becoming anxious. He saw one of the wasters back up and then watched him lower his spear. Kayleb’s donkey saw this particular waster and stared nervously out of the corner of her eye, her ears twitching. The waster leapt forward and hurled himself towards Kayleb. This was too much for the donkey and she sped forward towards David, breaking Kayleb’s place in the chain. The other donkeys, unnerved by the commotion, fled for their lives, braying loudly as the band of wasters set off after them in hot pursuit. Luckily the donkeys were fresh and charged along, leaving the wasters further and further behind.
Kayleb’s heart pounded. It was all he could do to stay in the saddle and looking behind him he wondered how long it would be before the wasters gave up. The wasters were not all that fit and were panting and they eventually slowed down and gave up the chase. Kayleb’s donkey, sensing that danger had now passed, slowed down. Kayleb let out a sigh of relief, as it had been a close call. He was quite a way ahead and looked back to see if everyone was safe. He could see Indigo’s curly hair and Cornwall beside him. He strained his head around to see if he could see Rowan but found that he wasn’t there. He tried to turn his donkey around but she would not oblige; she obviously liked being in front and did not want to head back into danger. Kayleb slowed her down, so the others could catch up.
‘Has anyone seen Rowan?’ Kayleb called out as everyone caught him up.
They looked behind them and then turned to Kayleb, shaking their heads. Rowan was nowhere to be seen. Cornwall caught up with Kayleb and looked distraught.
‘We’ll have to go back and find him. If those wasters get him they’ll kill him. They used to stay in my village, but were told to leave as they caused too much trouble. The one that tried to spear you, he was the worst. He’s evil. He skins squirrels while they’re still alive and likes to kill and torture taskers just for pleasure. We have to go back.’ Kayleb shook his head. He didn’t know what to do.
Rowan sat quietly in a leafy bush. He had abandoned his donkey as it was only interested in eating the grass along the riverbank and wasn’t willing to go where Rowan told him. Rowan knew the wasters were near, and thought it would be better if he laid low until they had gone. It was good to be alone and in charge of his destiny again. Despite there being the danger from wasters, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. He could see the blue sky breaking through the clouds above and could feel the cool morning breeze washing over him. And then for some reason he found himself thinking of Ledbetter. What a strange old man he turned out to be. How could anyone throw themselves off a building? He had heard why he had done it but he couldn’t understand why knowing your charge was a murderer would cause such an extreme reaction. Ledbetter had to be mad, stir-crazy, screwy as a jackass. Rowan thought back to the night before. He had been lying in his bed, trying to go to sleep when Ledbetter had come up to him and whispered in his ear. Rowan had pretended to be asleep and remembered feeling uncomfortable being in his presence. He had whispered a very odd thing in English and the words were worrying him now:
“All you want to do is swim with the other fishes and you will because you have scales. You do not know when you are well off.”
Rowan had passed this off as a joke or just the ravings of a madman and had not given him the satisfaction of responding. He had forgotten about it, but now it bothered him. Rowan sighed. He shouldn’t let these words get to him. Ledbetter was just a deranged old man and it wasn’t worth thinking about it. He would just have to keep away from Cornwall and fish.
Rowan’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the wasters. He had hoped that they would have gone off on another route. One of the wasters was too close for comfort. Rowan held his breath and sank lower and tried to blend in with the bush he was in, to avoid detection. His heart pounded in his chest and he could hear it ringing in his ears. He could smell the sweat from the waster and could almost reach out and touch him. Rowan was just about to make a run for it when one of them spotted the donkey. The donkey, now full of grass, did not like the look of the approaching wasters and decided that this was a good time to run away. The donkey sped up-river away from Rowan with the wasters in hot pursuit. Rowan crept out of the bushes and headed down-river using the bushes as cover. He was determined to get back to London before the others. The grass felt cool brushing against his legs and the river rushed by, eager to reach the sea. A bit like him really – going it alone was the right decision.
‘Where d’ya fink you’re going then? To London?’ Rowan spun around into the arms of Volvo.
‘Didn’t see me following ya, did ya now, ya littal weasel. Fun and games I’m going to have wiv you, ain’t I?’