Free Piggies by Nick Gifford Page A

– anything we can sell.”
    “Sell? To the beasts?”
    “There’s always a black market,” said Rose-Marie. “Alik and some of the others know where we can shift some of the things we forage. They exchange them for medicines and other supplies we can’t get hold of for ourselves.”
    It hadn’t occurred to Ben that there could be anything like that going on. It made sense, he supposed. But it seemed very dangerous.
    “How do they manage that?” he asked. “How can you trade with the beasts?”
    “Some of them are too stupid to even realise,” said Rose-Marie. “You’ve been close to them, haven’t you, Ben? They can’t just sniff us out, you know. If you don’t make any stupid mistakes you can go into town and not be noticed. I’ve done it myself when I’ve had to. We all have.”
    Ben could tell from her voice that she was boasting, probably not telling the truth. But what she said was certainly possible. After all, Ben had walked around Kirby without being found out. He had stayed a night in the Macreedies’ house before the doctor had been sure of his true nature.
    “Quiet now,” said Zeb. “We’re nearly there.”
    A short time later, the path opened out and there were fields to one side. A line of bungalows stretched along the far side of the field. Some had one or two lights on, but most were in darkness. This must be the village of Tippham.
    Now Ben remembered what it was like to be scared, what it was like to know that you were only a single mistake away from a slow and painful death.
    Suddenly, all his other worries melted away. All that concerned him right now was remembering all the things Zeb had taught him: how to move silently, how to hide yourself from prying eyes, how to avoid being caught...
    ~
    They came to McDonnell’s farm a few minutes later. The farmhouse was an imposing redbrick building with stone columns at the front door and wooden shutters at the windows. There were lights on, and several cars pulled up in the main yard.
    “Looks like there’s a party going on,” said Adam. “Looks like we picked a bad night.”
    “We’re here now,” said Anna. “The least we can do is look around.”
    The farmhouse was surrounded by big, low out-buildings. Some were rectangular barns, others were arched buildings made from corrugated steel, like the community hall back in the woods.
    As they drew closer to the farm, Ben heard animal noises coming from these buildings. “What is it?” he asked. “What’s in there?”
    “All kinds of things,” said Anna. “Mainly pigs. Some cattle. Stables for horses – they have some kind of riding school.” She paused, then said, “See the barn? The one with a tractor in the doorway? Alik asked us to look in there. See if there are any tools we can lift. Come on.”
    They split up in the main yard. Rose-Marie, Adam and Rick headed towards the back of the building to see what they could find. Ben followed Zeb and Anna towards the barn.
    Inside, there was another tractor and lots of attachments for ploughing and harvesting. Ben didn’t know what it all was. He was a town boy, after all.
    He stopped, shuddered. He wasn’t a town boy. He lived in the woods. He was a woodlander now, whatever the truth of his past.
    The other two had found a store room. They waved Ben over.
    “Here, wrap the blades in these.” Zeb handed Ben some rags and pointed to a selection of chisels and saws he’d taken from a tool cabinet.
    Ben set to work, wrapping the cutting edges so that the tools could safely be put in a sack and carried back to the woods.
    Somewhere nearby a horse whinnied.
    The three finished wrapping the tools. Then Anna gathered up the sack and slung it over her shoulder. “See you later,” she said.
    Ben watched as she headed off across the farmyard towards the woods. It made sense, he supposed: she would gain nothing by hanging around to wait for the others.
    “Come on,” said Zeb.
    Ben went with Zeb to a door at the back of the barn.