Free The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel by Mark Douglas Stafford

of them had seen any
trace of dogs or sheep. She kept a wary eye on the rooftops too but
hadn’t seen any shadows, and nothing else had fallen.
    ‘Yes, I’m
sure. They’re nothing like you and the others I’ve met here. They
don’t build things, they don’t cooperate…’
    ‘Do all humans
in Australia build things and cooperate?’ asked Reginald.
    ‘No, not all.
Many just benefit from others doing… oh, I see your point. So you
think that in the same way, Australian animals are people who just
don’t work together to make things?’
    ‘It’s
possible, don’t you think?’ said Reginald, swaying as he walked
slowly by her side.
    Flossy deftly
jumped over a deep gutter half full of fast moving water, which
made her sword clattered at her side.
    ‘Possible,
yes. But it’s still unlikely. If you met them, you would realise
the people living in Port Isabel are completely different. When I
met Harry, I knew immediately that I was meeting a… proper person.
The way he looked at me, and Larry too, made it obvious. That’s not
how it is with Australian animals. There is… an absence of
thoughtfulness in their eyes.’
    They passed
under the arch of an old aqueduct. Part of it had collapsed long
ago and grass was reclaiming the rubble. Rainwater cascaded from a
breach above their heads.
    ‘And their
heads are smaller, so their brains are probably smaller too,’
Flossy added.
    ‘Smaller
heads, you say? I’d never imagined there might still be animals in
the world like that. We only have bones of small-headed animals.
I’ll have to ponder this idea further. Do you know how they lost
the ability to think and talk? Was it neglect of use, or was it
somehow taken from them?’
    Flossy didn’t
answer, she stood stock still, every sense heightened. Something
had moved behind the third aqueduct pylon from where she stood.
    ‘I think
there’s someone down there,’ she whispered.
    Reginald
silently moved behind the closest pylon so he was out of sight. ‘I
don’t see anyone,’ he whispered. He raised his trunk and sniffed.
‘But I smell sheep, yes it’s definitely sheep.’
    ‘I’m going to
have a look,’ said Flossy.
    She removed
her waterlogged jacket and laid it at the foot of the pylon. Next
she arranged her sword and scabbard behind her so it wouldn’t get
in the way when she climbed.
    ‘Can you..?’
she asked Reginald, pointing up.
    Reginald
extended his trunk and lifted Flossy onto his back. From there she
pulled herself up and over the edge of the aqueduct and rolled into
the trench. She was on the dry side of the breach. The rain had
eased and fog was now rolling across the town. Without her jacket,
every raindrop was a cold pinprick that robbed her of what warmth
remained. Her bare feet ached with cold.
    Keeping low
and moving as quietly as she could she crawled along the aqueduct
until she reached the top of the third pylon. Pushing her wet hair
away from her face she carefully peered over the edge. There were
six pirates below, all of them artfully disguised as sheep. They
were huddled together talking. One of them was arranging a sword
that looked just like hers; another was struggling to put on too
small a vest. It also looked like hers. They were dressing as
pirates. From above she couldn’t recognise any of them, their
costumes was perfect. No wonder they had been able to move around
Port Isabel so freely, without being noticed. But why bother
disguising themselves as sheep only to give away their true
identities by wearing pirate clothes? There was only one way to
find out.
    Flossy leapt
from the aqueduct and fell into the middle of the pack. She used
two of the pirates to help break her fall. They collapsed under her
weight and she rolled to the side, landing on her feet in a
fighting stance. Before the pirates knew what had hit them, Flossy
was in their midst with her sword drawn.
    ‘It’s her!’
cried one pirate. ‘Baaa-aaa!’ bleated the others in unison.
    ‘You’re not
dogs!’