Out of this World
by
Jane Croft

 

A clawed hand round the back of his neck thrust ten-year old Kevin into his bedroom. Then he heard his Gran’s strident tones.

‘You’ll stay in there until your parents get home, you little blighter.’

For a moment she glared at him from the threshold, red-rimmed eyes burning in the cracked desert of her face around which locks of grey hair writhed like angry snakes. Then the door slammed and locked and he was alone.

Grimacing, he pulled off his eye-patch and the black scarf covering his spiky red hair and flung them aside. Then he threw himself on the bed and reflected bitterly on the injustice of his imprisonment. It had only been a game after all. Pirates always made their prisoners walk the plank. The pond wasn’t even that deep. As for the Koi carp, his father had been ripped off there; they definitely tasted muddy when cooked. Plus, the flames of the camp fire had barely touched the shed, and the blackened part was at the back anyway.

Through the open window drifted the sounds of children’s laughter and splashing water from the neighbours’ pool. Sunlight splintered on the glass, accentuating his cruel predicament. Moving past the toys and books lining the shelves of his room, his brooding gaze came to rest on the computer game atop the desk: Mission to the Labyrinth of Death. The hard-muscled, armour-clad, blaster-wielding figure of his hero, Colonel Dare, stared out of the cover at him. The rugged face expressed concern. Kevin sighed.

‘What now, Colonel?’ he asked.

‘You have to get out of there, Kev,’ replied the familiar voice. A moment later, Colonel Dare had leapt from the troll-infested labyrinth to stand on the desk.

‘But how?’ asked Kevin. ‘The door’s locked. Besides, the evil sorceress lurks in her grotto at the bottom of the tower. You know what capture means.’

Dare nodded. ‘Interrogation, starvation rations and probable torture.’

‘The guard dogs would give me away in any case.’

‘Ah, yes, the venomous Yorkies. Small but deadly.’ Dare looked thoughtful. ‘That leaves only one choice, Kev.’

‘You don’t mean…’

‘Yes, the window.’

Kevin gulped. ‘It’s an awful long way from the ground, Colonel.’

‘That’s why it’s not barred. The sorceress thinks no-one would dare attempt to escape from the Fortress of Doom that way.’

‘But how will I do it?’

‘Use the sheets of course.’

Kevin wondered why he hadn’t thought of that himself. Dragging them off the bed he knotted them together and tied one end to the wooden frame before throwing the rest from the window. He watched it snake away down the wall. To his intense disappointment the bottom end reached only as far as the flat roof of the kitchen below.

‘Never mind,’ said Dare. ‘We’ll have to improvise.’ He pointed to a metal coat hanger on the back of the door. ‘We must take that.’ As Kevin retrieved it he added, ‘Bend it in half.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘You’ll see. Now, are you ready?’

Kevin nodded. He shoved the bent hanger in his pocket and climbed on to the sill. Heart pounding, he grasped the sheet and swung out over the void. Dare jumped on to his shoulder and they began their descent, reaching the flat roof with ease. From the kitchen below came strains of eerie music.

‘Jurassic FM,’ said Dare. ‘The sorceress listens to it when she’s concocting her vile potions. With luck she’ll be too busy to notice your escape.’

They looked around for the guard dogs but these were conspicuous by their absence. Dare grinned.

‘All clear, Kev. Let’s get off this roof. Only be sure you don’t touch the man-eating bushes or the radio-active grass.’

‘But we’re surrounded. How can we avoid them, Colonel?’

‘With the aid of the coat hanger and that cable.’

‘The washing line?’

‘That’s what the sorceress wants you to think, Kev. In reality it’s a cunningly- disguised, titanium-reinforced, hyper-glide wire.’

‘How does it work?’

‘Sit on the edge of the roof. That’s it. Now put the coat hanger over the line and take firm hold of both ends. Got it?’

‘Yep.’

‘Good. Now… jump!’

As he leapt he heard the Colonel’s familiar battle cry. ‘Yeeeeehaw!’

Seconds later Kevin was whizzing down the garden at eye-watering speed. Then he heard Dare’s voice in his ear.

‘Booby trap, Kev! Look out!’

Too late he saw it. Plastic pegs shot in all directions as he ripped through the coloured wash. Wet fabric clung to his face. Half blinded he hurtled on, unaware of the looming poly-tunnel, crashing through it in a shower of compost and green tomatoes. His velocity barely decreased, slamming him into the boundary fence beyond. The ancient wooden panel shattered as he was catapulted into the neighbouring garden where he hit the padded side of the prefabricated swimming pool. Through a semi daze he heard screams and was vaguely aware of a strange creaking sound. The side of the pool began to buckle.

‘Tidal wave!’ cried Dare.

Kevin’s brown eyes widened. He tried to stand but a wall of water lifted him off his feet and swept him and the pool’s three occupants down the lawn like tumbled stones. Gasping and choking they were washed up on a patio. Kevin staggered to his feet. The garden around him had been transformed into a shallow lake in which stood islands of vegetation. A misshapen pile of blue plastic indicated the remains of the swimming pool. Beyond it, the ribs of the poly-tunnel leaned at drunken angles against the ruined fence.

‘Bummer, Kev,’ said Colonel Dare.

There followed shouts and expletives and the sound of hurrying feet. Then he heard the shrill voice of the sorceress.

‘Kevin!’

His freckled face paled. ‘We’d better get out of here.’

‘Good idea,’ replied Colonel Dare.

Together they made a dash for the adjoining garden fence. Kevin grabbed the top of a post and vaulted, desperation lending him added momentum. He was in midair when he saw the vast terrace of newly-laid, wet concrete below.

 

© Jane Croft, 2009

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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