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459 lines
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<h1>13</h1>
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<p><em>August 1. 3.30pm...</em></p>
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<p>"Look at that," Doug called out, pointing straight ahead. The
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others reached the low brow of the hill and stood beside him. Down
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the slope, the four black pools, each of them almost perfectly
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circular except for the last which was kidney shaped, descended in
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steps. They were evenly spaced and nearly identical in size, as if
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they had been dug for a purpose.</p>
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<p>"Dead straight line," Billy said. "The bombers must have come
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right over the hills." He stuck his arms out and made a noise like
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a fighter plane in a dive and started to run down the hill
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zigzagging left and right. He stopped half way and beckoned to them
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with a wave of his arm.</p>
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<p>The others started to follow him down towards the craters.</p>
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<p>The first one was deep and ridged all around its rim where the
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earth had been thrown up by the force of the explosion twenty years
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before.</p>
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<p>"Just like a crater on the moon," Corky said. A dragonfly came
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soaring towards them, buzzing like a miniature helicopter. It
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banked on clattering wings before it reached them and zoomed out
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across the still water.</p>
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<p>"We must be close," Danny said. "If they were dropping their
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bombs up here."</p>
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<p>Tom shrugged. "Could still be miles away." His face was still
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smudged with dust and ash and streaked with his tears. He had come
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along with them but he looked more reluctant to stay. Behind them,
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far in the distance, a pall of smoke still hung in the sky, but it
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was fading away now, just a smudge of grey against the blue. From
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where they stood, the town, three miles away, was hidden from view
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by the curve of the hill. The faint sounds of the foundry steam
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hammer and the clanging from the shipyard down in the distance had
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all but faded, leaving them only the piping of a curlew on the hill
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and the liquid sound of a lark rising on the hot air.</p>
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<p>They ambled down towards the lowest crater-hole, this one
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completely round and deeper than all the others. The water was
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slick and patched with duckweed. Pond skaters slid on the surface
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while underneath them, water boatmen darted in search of prey. They
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dropped their bags in a heap and slung the tent beside them. All
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five of them lay on the sheep-shorn grass at the lip of the pond
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and peered down into the depths.</p>
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<p>Danny reached out slowly and dipped his hand under the surface
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sending the slick of algae undulating in slow ripples. "It's warm.
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You could swim in it."</p>
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<p>He moved his hand slowly very slowly, only an inch or two above
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the silt a foot below the surface close to the bank. Corky watched
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and saw a long black shape resting on the mud close to Danny's
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creeping fingers.</p>
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<p>"What's that?" he started to ask, but just as he did, Danny
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lunged and hauled his hand clear of the water. Without hesitation
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he dropped the black shape on the grass. It was three inches long
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and wriggled furiously out of its element twisting its segmented,
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coal-black body this way and that.</p>
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<p>"Dragonfly," Danny said and everybody crowded round.</p>
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<p>"Can't be," Billy contradicted. "It hasn't got any wings. Creepy
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looking beastie."</p>
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<p>"It's a larva. It's got to change first. It climbs up a stalk
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and breaks out."</p>
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<p>"Metamorphosity." Corky said, knowingly.</p>
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<p>"Ugly <em>baskit</em>," Doug said. "Bet it can't wait to grow
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up." They all laughed.</p>
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<p>Danny broke a stem of reed and jabbed it close to the insect's
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bulbous eyes. Immediately the bottom jaw shot out with a tiny click
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sound. It looked like a long, jointed arm, jagged with grabbing
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spines. The underslung mandible clawed viciously.</p>
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<p>"Jeez-o, it's a flamin' monster." Billy exclaimed.</p>
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<p>The jaw snatched the reed and pulled at it, and they all crowded
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round to watch the alien wriggling thing twist and turn, viciously
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defending itself.</p>
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<p>"There's a big water beetle that's got pincers," Corky said,
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holding his hands up at the side of his mouth and using his first
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fingers to imitate the motion of how those pincers worked. "Big
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enough to go right through your skin right into the bone. If it
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flies into you it can crack your skull."</p>
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<p>"Well I'm not swimming in here," Tom said. "You could get bitten
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to death. It must be full of creepy crawlies like that. Probably
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piranhas as well.</p>
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<p>Billy got to his feet and without warning he stamped down hard
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on the black larva. It crunched against the grass. "Something that
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ugly shouldn't be allowed to live," he said, grinning. Doug made a
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disgusted sound in the back of his throat.</p>
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<p>"How would you like somebody to do that to you?" Danny asked,
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getting to his feet. The black larva twisted slowly now broken and
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burst, its legs clawing weakly at the air. Yellow liquid oozed out
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from the split in its abdomen.</p>
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<p>"Nobody big enough," Billy said, wiping his foot on the grass.
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He grinned. "And I'm not ugly, neither."</p>
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<p>He sauntered round the pool while Danny watched angrily, wishing
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he hadn't caught the insect, even if Billy was right. It was ugly
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and alien, something from a nightmare, but it would have gone on
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living if he'd left it, and some day it would have turned into one
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of the long , flickering streaks of black and gold that cruised on
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the summer air, hunting for insects.</p>
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<p>Billy hunkered down. Something splashed in the water right in
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front of him. He reached, made a grab, missed his footing and
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stumbled forward into the pool. One foot sank into the soft
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mud.</p>
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<p>"Dammit," he grunted. He reached again and snatched a bobbing
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shape up from the floating duckweed, then hauled himself out. His
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baseball boot and the leg of his jeans was red with mud. He shook
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his foot then turned and held up the fat green frog, waving it like
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a trophy.</p>
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<p>"Hello <em>froggy,"</em> he sang, making his voice grate like a
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juvenile Louis Armstrong. He brought it across and thrust it in
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Tom's face. The smaller boy squirmed away from it.</p>
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<p>"What, scared of frogs?" Billy demanded.</p>
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<p>"No I'm not." Tom protested. "It's covered in slime,"</p>
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<p>Billy giggled. "You can have great fun with frogs. Watch."</p>
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<p>He searched around for a dried piece of reed and broke off a
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narrow stem, holding it up to the light to see if it was
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hollow.</p>
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<p>"You have to watch for earwigs with these things. They crawl
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into your mouth and down your throat." He held the frog tightly
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while they watched. The creature jerked powerfully in an attempt to
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escape but Billy had its head in a strong grip. The legs pinioned
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helplessly.</p>
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<p>"See its hole?" Doug agreed that he could see it. Billy jabbed
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the reed at it. The legs kicked desperately. There was a little pop
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sound and the end of the reed disappeared into the frog's vent.</p>
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<p>"Aw, Billy," Corky protested. "That's bloody awful."</p>
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<p>Billy grinned and raised his eyebrows up and down. "Now for the
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piece of the resistance," he said, grinning like Gomez Addams. He
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bent his head, put the free end of the reed in his mouth and blew
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steadily, puffing his cheeks out with pressure. .</p>
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<p>The frog inflated. Billy squeezed the free end of the tube to
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close it and leaned back.</p>
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<p>"You're lookin' swell, <em>froggy</em>," he sang. He breathed in
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through his nose and blew again. The frog blew up to the size of a
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tennis ball. The sun glinted on transparent skin. The round body
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swelled so much the spots on its pale belly had expanded to the
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size of shirt-buttons. The yellow eyes glared out from a distended
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head.</p>
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<p>"Look at its face," Doug said.</p>
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<p>It was an odd moment of fascination tinged with disgust and
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blackly cruel humour. Danny and Corky each screwed up their own
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faces, but they did not stop watching. Billy blew again and the
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frog expanded even more. "I can tell, <em>froggy!</em>"</p>
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<p>"It's going burst," Doug said, shaking his head and taking a
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step back and holding his hands up protectively just in case. "Give
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it a break Billy."</p>
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<p>"You're still growin', you're still <em>growin</em>' " Billy
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rasped.</p>
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<p>"Oh, that's really rotten," Tom said, and then, without warning,
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he burst into horrified laughter. Danny looked at him, feeling the
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disgust rise inside himself. He turned to the frog. Its eyes were
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bulging now and it bore a look of complete and mute bewilderment. A
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hiccup of laughter bubbled up from inside him and he tried to
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swallow it down feeling a flush of shame at how hysterically funny
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he found this.</p>
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<p>"Looks like Fat Sonia Kowalski," Corky said. Doug giggled then
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the two of them exploded with laughter. Billy turned and the frog
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slipped from his hands. It fell off the reed impaling its vent and
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landed on the water. Immediately bubbles came farting out in a
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steady stream. Its legs kicked out but it was still swollen to five
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times its size and they only paddled against air, hardly touching
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the water at all. It floated like a balloon on the duckweed,
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turning slowly in a little circle.</p>
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<p>Billy let out a howl. Tom was holding his sides. Danny and Doug
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were holding on to each other, convulsing with laughter and Corky
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was lying on the ground doubled up. They were completely helpless
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for several minutes until the hysteria passed.</p>
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<p>"God, that was really mean," Doug said, the manic laughter still
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in his eyes. He tried to keep his face straight and failed. "You
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should be done by the animal inspector."</p>
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<p>"Look at it," Billy said. "It's as big as a flamin' football,
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and it's farting away like crazy."</p>
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<p>"Fat Sonia," Doug said, remembering what Corky had said, and he
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was off again, bending over and holding his belly with both hands.
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"Oh, stop it," he pleaded. "Don't make me laugh."</p>
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<p>"That's really rotten," Tom said, stifling his laughter. "It
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never did any harm."</p>
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<p>"It's only a frog," Billy said, dismissively. "What are you
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worried about? They don't feel pain like us." He turned picked up
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his pack and started walking towards the lip of the valley.</p>
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<p>The rest of them looked at each other. Danny felt flush of shame
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creep across his face, making it hot and red. It had been cruel,
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dreadfully cruel, but it had been funny and the frog <em>had</em>
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looked like Fat Sonia Kowalsky. The inflated frog was out in the
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midle, vainly trying to cross a patch of weed. It would die in the
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heat for sure. The flush of hot disgust, at the frog's torture and
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at his own laughter stayed with him.</p>
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<p>"He's right off his head," Tom said with feeling. "I'm telling
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you. He's ten cents on the dollar."</p>
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<p>Behind the next ridge of tussock grass, Billy turned. "Come on
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you lot. At the double."</p>
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<p>Doug shrugged, sniffed. They moved on past the ridge of the
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crater, leaving the algae ripples to settle to silence, and the
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dragonflies snatching clegs and horseflies out of the air.</p>
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<p>It was another hour before they got to the floor of the valley
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where the Blackwood Stream tumbled clear and fast over the smooth
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rocks. They had followed the contours of the hill, travelling
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parallel to the flow of the water, walking on the sheep-tracks
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until they reached the end of the thick forest that covered both
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sides. Beyond that, single trees and small clumps grew here and
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there, perched precariously on the steep sides of the valley,
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hazels and ash and some alders. The stream had cut the moorland
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into grooves here, deep gorges that fell away down to the twisting
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flow below. High on the sides, scrubby hawthorns and an occasional
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rowan clung to almost sheer walls. Branching tributaries bringing
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the winter melt water down from the Blackwood Hills to the west and
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the Langmuir Crags on the east side, cut the land into chevrons of
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gullies and fissures. The five boys trudged along the edge, tired
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and slow now and ready for a rest from carrying their bags and the
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increasingly heavy dead weight of the tent. The valley swooped
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below them, the steep sides lined and striated with alternating
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dark bands of thick shale sandwiched between hard mudstone which
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slashed white parallel lines in layers from the stream bed to the
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high ridge of the canyon lip.</p>
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<p>"It's like something out of the movies," Doug said. They had
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caught up with Billy and nobody mentioned the frog. "Like cowboys
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and indians."</p>
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<p>"Treasure of the Sierra Madre," Corky said. "That's what it's
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like." He turned to the others. "We don' have to show you any
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<em>steengking</em> badges," he said in a reasonable imitation of a
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Mexican bandido. Danny grinned widely at the impersonation and
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lopped the head off a nettle with his stick. Billy looked
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puzzled.</p>
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<p>"It's a film," Corky explained. "Really good and scary too. The
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baddy gets it in the end. But the book's better. You should read
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one sometime."</p>
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<p>Billy drew him a look that told them all he wasn't interested in
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books.</p>
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<p>"It's like the grand canyon," Tom said. "I saw a picture of it
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in geography. It goes down for miles and it's got these lines all
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along the sides. I've never been up as far as this before."</p>
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<p>"Right up in the wilds now, Tiny Tom," Billy said. "Miles from
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home. Only us mountain men and the wild frontier."</p>
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<p>"There's bears and wolves and sabre-tooth tigers up here," Doug
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added, grinning his wide goofy smile.</p>
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<p>"Tyrannosauruses and stegosaurs." Danny threw in.</p>
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<p>"Giant spiders." Corky said, keeping it up. "Martians with three
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eyes."</p>
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<p>"And window-lickers from the special school bus." Tom said. He
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rolled his eyes up and let his tongue hang out imbecilically.
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"That's you lot, that is. A bunch of morons if you believe all that
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stuff. And I bet you do, every one of you."</p>
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<p>They started down the slope, reached the edge where the grass
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stopped and the steep shale fell away for more than a hundred feet
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at such a steep angle it seemed almost vertical from where they
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stood. Doug stepped back from the edge. "It's high, isn't it?"</p>
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<p>"Not really," Tom said mildly. "Only from up here. It looks
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further than it is, I think."</p>
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<p>"I don't like heights," Doug said. "I got stuck on the quarry
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once. Scared the shite out of me. It took me ages to get the nerve
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up to climb down and I missed most of the afternoon."</p>
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<p>"What quarry, the one behind the school?" Danny asked. "Where
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Crawford Rankine fell off?"</p>
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<p>Doug nodded gravely. "Yeah."</p>
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<p>"Thrown off," Tom corrected. "They thought he fell at first, but
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he got thrown off. Same time as Don Whalen was caught. Brenda
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Fortucci saw it all."</p>
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<p>Doug shrugged, not caring for the moment, though this was
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something they'd all discussed, and at length, in the long weeks
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running up towards the end of the school holidays. He looked down
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to where the Blackwood Stream meandered down there, a silver snake
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crawling through the steep valley. "I hate falling. I'd rather get
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shot."</p>
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<p>"Like my old man," Billy said. "He got shot a couple of times.
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You don't feel it if it gets you in the head. You don't even hear
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it. He wiped out a whole Japanese patrol, so he did."</p>
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<p>He stuck his hands in his pockets. "He could have taken Cammy
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Galt and Plooks McGill and your Phil all at the one time. He could
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have molocated old <em>Twitchy,</em> that's for certain. No
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bother."</p>
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<p>Doug ignored him and looked away. They'd all heard it before.
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"Can we find somewhere that isn't so steep? You could fall and
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break your neck here."</p>
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<p>"It's all right," Corky told him. "It's not as steep as it
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looks, and even if you fall, you won't go far. Watch."</p>
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<p>Corky took a leap forward. Doug blurted a warning as his friend
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leapt off the edge. Corky yelled at the top of his voice and went
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plummeting down. He hit the slope feet first, sending up a bow-wave
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of shale and then went sliding down the scree on his backside,
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forcing a fountain of gravel into the air, leaving a deep groove of
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his passing. Danny went skidding right behind him and Doug was
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encouraged enough to follow. Billy took the rear, bouncing down
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heavily, leaving wide footprints with every stride. In only a few
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minutes, they reached the bottom and followed the stream until they
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reached a flat part at the conjunction with another of the feeder
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tributaries that had cut the chasms in the moor slope. The twin
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gorges angled away from each other, each of them filled with the
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echoing sound of running water. Danny stripped off his canvas shoes
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and threw his socks onto the grass. He rolled up the legs of his
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jeans and waded into the clear stream shallows just down from the
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deeper pool where the crystal water tumbled through a low cleft.
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Corky kicked off his old scuffed boots and followed him in.</p>
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<p>"What's it like?" Doug asked, struggling out of his torn
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denims.</p>
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<p>"Magic," Corky told him. He came out of the water and rubbed the
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droplets from his legs. Already he was getting some brown hairs on
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his calves. Danny, who had stripped off his own denims, looked at
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them enviously. His own legs were white and smooth.</p>
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<p>"Let's get the tent fixed up," Corky said when he came back out,
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dripping water. "then we can light a fire."</p>
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<p>"Bags me to light it," Billy demanded. "I can get a blaze going
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with one match."</p>
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<p>"Yeah, we know that. Just so long as it stays in one place," Tom
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said rancorously. "You nearly killed us the last time."</p>
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<p>"Oh, give it a rest, <em>Titch</em>," Billy rounded on him. "It
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was an accident, OK? He pulled his tee-shirt over his head, slung
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it behind him and ran up to the rocky ledge at the side of the
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pool. Without stopping he scrambled to the edge.</p>
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<p>"Bombs away..."</p>
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<p>His cry echoed down the valley. He leapt into the air, bunched
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his legs together and hugged his knees so that he curled into a
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tight ball and hit the water so hard the impact it sounded like a
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drum in the confines of the pool. An immense splash of water arched
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out on all sides, soaking the bags and the tent.</p>
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<p>Billy came up to the surface, his black hair glistening in the
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sun. Underneath him the red mud which had dried on the leg of his
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jeans dissolved in the current and trailed downstream in banded
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clouds of ochre silt like streams of blood.</p>
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<hr />
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<p><em>August 1. 4pm.</em></p>
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<p>He watched their progress from the cover of the thick trees on
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the other side of the valley, standing very still so that he
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betrayed no movement at all.</p>
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<p>The fire had died away but there was still a musky smell of
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grass smoke on the dry air, mingled with the aroma of burned gorse
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and its perfumed pollen. The hills up beyond the farm rolled away
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|
into the distance, barren of trees up this high, covered in heath
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and heather and thick bracken fronds.</p>
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<p>The five of them had followed the cattle track down to the pools
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|
and then they had moved on. He followed for a while, feeling the
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|
tide of heat swell inside him. He was in no hurry, none at all. The
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time was not yet right. There were still things to do, important
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|
things.</p>
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<p>He hunkered down beside a fallen pine tree that had broken its
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|
back as it tumbled, and pulled a piece of dried meat from his
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|
pocket, smoked pork from the dry-store next to the farmhouse
|
|
kitchen. He chewed on it absently, waiting until the troop of boys
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|
began to angle down the slope, like a patrol in the hills. If he
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|
listened he might hear them call out.</p>
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<p><em>Dung fly.</em> There was no rush. Up here he had all the
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|
time in the world to do what he had to do. . There was no hurry for
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|
now. He would watch and he would wait. He would let them know, as
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|
some stage, when the time was right, who he was and why he had
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|
come.</p>
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<p>He rose to his feet and went down into the trees, heading back
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|
towards the farm where the others were waiting for him. He blinked
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|
several three times in quick succession, and the world flickered in
|
|
a strobe of flashes, intermittent light and dark. The boys were
|
|
going along the ridge at the edge of the valley where the land fell
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|
away sharply in the narrow cleft down to the stream, and in a line,
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|
just like a troop of infiltrators. It was steep there. Maybe one of
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|
them might fall...</p>
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