Free Day of Deliverance by Johnny O'Brien Page B

hysterically.
    The ringleader prodded him with his stick. “Shut your mouth – or you’ll get more of this.”
    He strode over to the chest. “What is it?”
    Trinculo and Monk were silent.
    He turned back to them and snarled, “I asked what is it?”
    Monk said quietly, “Plays, poems.”
    Trinculo mumbled, “They’re not worth anything.”
    But the ringleader had a glint in his eye. “Not what I hear. You can get ten shillings for a play… maybe more, if it’s any good.”
    The bandits gathered round the papers, suddenly interested.
    Jack whispered to Angus from the side of his mouth, “Any ideas?”
    “Tony and Gordon carried the only weapons, but I did manage to sneak this with me… was at the bottom of my school bag for some reason.”
    Angus opened his doublet fractionally for Jack to see what was inside. He had brought his catapult. And it wasn’t the one made from a bit of wood hewn from a tree with an elastic band attached. Angus had a slingshot of high-tensile industrial rubber tethered to a carbon fibre frame. Jack had seen Angus use this favourite ‘toy’ to shatter a beer bottle fifty metres away. He opened up the other side of his doublet.
    “And I found a couple of these in the VIGIL prep area… pocketed them while the others weren’t looking,” he whispered.
    A couple of tubes poked up from his inside pocket. Jack didn’t know what they were.
    “Thunder flashes,” Angus said guiltily.
    The bandits had become bored with the papers and they hurriedly stuffed them back into the wooden chest. The ringleader turned back to them.
    “What else have you got?”
    Angus reached into his pocket, pulled out one of the thin tubes and held it out.
    “I have this… But I don’t know if you will want it.”
    “What is it?”
    Angus looked at Jack who interjected, “We use it in our plays… it is, er, a musical stick. It makes music.”
    “Loud music,” Angus added.
    The ringleader came closer. “I have never heard of such a thing… how does it work?”
    “Easy,” Angus said. “See that rock over there. Well, you just bang the bottom of the music stick on it… and then hold it in your hand… and wait for the music.”
    Stave barged forward. “I want to do it!”
    “No me…” Butcher said.
    “Stand aside – I will do it – I am the leader.”
    The ringleader took the thunder flash, marched over to the rock and manfully banged one end onto the rock. “Like that?” he asked.
    “Yes,” replied Angus, “just like that.”
    They waited.
    The ringleader looked at them questioningly. “It’s not work—”
    Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light and an earsplitting bang as the thunder flash went off in the bandit’s hand. It was as if the entire forest had gone up. For a second he was invisible in the swirling blue smoke, but as it cleared, the man staggered blindly around, clutching his hand and wailing in pain.
    His friends raced over to help him. Angus whipped out his catapult and selected a stone from the ground. In one movement he stretched back the rubber, extending it all the way from his outstretched arm to his ear lobe. He closed his left eye and narrowed his right along the length of the rubber and… released. Jack could have sworn he heard the stone hiss angrily through the air. It caught Stave in his kneecap and he sank to the ground, emitting a low guttural grunt. Butcher turned, his face red withanger, and pelted towards them wielding his club as he came. But Angus had coolly reloaded the catapult and unleashed a second shot. It was extraordinary that a small pebble could stop a grown man in his tracks. But it did. Angus had again skilfully targeted the leg, and now all three of their assailants were on the ground. Alive, but in a great deal of pain.
    Angus reloaded for a third time, but Jack put his hand up.
    “I think we’re done.”
    Angus lowered the catapult.
    Fanshawe was soon on his feet, wrapping Angus and Jack in a bear hug.
    “Thank you, my