Free B00DW1DUQA EBOK by Simon Kewin Page A

looking for you sooner or later,’ said Connor. ‘They’ll have to.’
    ‘Maybe. Sets a bad example though doesn’t it? If I get away others will try as well.’
    ‘But you have got away.’
    ‘For now.’
    They were silent for a time. Finn had smuggled out half a loaf of bread that morning. Connor had a rainbow trout, freshly tickled from the river. He also had a whole cabbage, as large as a cow’s brain, pulled from his father’s fields. Finn peeled a leaf off and crunched into its sweet, squeaky flesh.
    ‘Why do they even need so many people?’ asked Connor.
    ‘When the wind is in the right direction in my village, you can hear the booming and crashing from across the plain,’ said Diane. ‘It gets louder each year.’
    Finn tried to imagine a machine that vast, something like his father’s furnace, but filling the whole valley. He couldn’t do it.
    He sat up. ‘Come on, let’s play the Engn game again,’ he said.
    ‘OK,’ said Connor. Diane opened her eyes but didn’t reply.
    ‘It’s your turn to be the Ironclad, Conn, said Finn. ‘We’ll be the wreckers.’
    ‘OK.’
    They peered out through the slits in the walls of the barn to check no-one was around, then jumped down to the ground-floor. They raced out of the back of the barn for the safety of the tree-line.
    The game had changed in nature now. One of them still had to be the Ironclad, defending Engn from the other two, but secretly they were working for the wreckers. They had to maintain the pretence until the vital moment, otherwise the other Ironclads would find out. But if you could sneak up and touch them without being seen, you had won. The one defending Engn could stop being an Ironclad and become a wrecker, their true identity revealed.
    They built the city between them, leaning branches together in a line between two trees. Connor scrambled inside to guard it. In his hand he held his stick, a whippy sycamore branch, stripped of its twigs, that he would lash them with if he caught them. He had the sickle blades with him too. By common agreement, whoever was playing the Ironclad clashed these together when pursuing the other two.
    Finn and Diane raced off into the surrounding woods, whooping and shouting. When they were far enough away they stopped to whisper their plans. They ran in opposite directions, Finn circling around, Diane creeping a little nearer to hide in the undergrowth. As Finn ran, trying to make as little noise as possible, he counted to himself. They would start sneaking up on Connor when they reached one hundred.
    It was impossible to see Connor hiding in the shadows, impossible to know which way he was looking. When he had counted, Finn began to creep forwards. He kept one of the two trees between himself and Connor as much as possible. Diane would be doing the same from the opposite direction. If they had successfully counted at the same speed, they would arrive at the same moment. Then, if one of them could touch Connor, the game would be won.
    The woods were very still. Finn could hear nothing but the rush of his own breathing and the occasional tick as he stepped on a twig. At any moment he expected Connor to come roaring out, waving his stick. But he reached the trunk of the tree without being seen.
    He took a breath, preparing to dash out into the open. But Diane was there ahead of him. She must have counted more quickly. She ran into the clearing in front of the wooden hut. Connor emerged, his voice booming, scything his stick backwards and forwards with a whoosh . Diane backed off but didn’t run, trying to dodge past the stick to touch Connor.
    Finn crept forward now. Diane had noticed him but Connor’s back was to him. If Connor turned, Finn knew he would have no chance.
    He was very close when Diane, with a shout, leapt at Connor. For a moment Finn thought she might make it but the whirring stick caught her in the side. Diane’s back arched as she shouted in pain and crumpled to the ground. Connor,