The Pickpocket

Chapter 14 - An Awful Lot Of Running

I grabbed Dad’s bag of stuff and walked back to the interesting animals unit. It had been decided that Dad would be transferred as we had the most capable people to look after him. Dad could move his arms, but not his legs. For a second we had both panicked, thinking that in theory I should now be non-existent before realising that it happened in the past for us and future for now, so I couldn’t vanish.

When I got back to Dad’s room (he had one all to himself - not that I’m jealous at all…) he was sitting up. At my look of surprise he explained that he’d regained a bit of feeling in his legs and could shuffle around a bit. I nodded and handed him his bag before pulling shut the door - my one arm was still out of action.

“Right,” Dad said, smiling, “pass me that tray.” I handed him the tray and he got to work. I stayed to watch. It was quite interesting, really, seeing how all the pieces fitted together.

“Dad…” I said at last.

“Mm?”

“How do you even know about pocket watches?”

“Well, I had one when-”

“No you didn’t.”

“My dad taught-”

“No he didn’t.”

Dad deflated slightly. “I looked it up on Google.”

“Thank you.” I grinned and let Dad continue but he hadn’t stopped talking yet.

“This thing has a history of breaking,” he went on, working whilst he spoke, “so I thought that it would be a good idea to find out how to fix one. This is very fiddly, however.”

“Dad, you’re getting a British accent,” I said suddenly. Dad looked up, alarmed.

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Damn. I like being American.” Dad pouted then continued working. I smiled and left him to it.

 

*

 

Three hours and a nap later, I was woken by Dad waving the pocket watch in my face.

“It works! I fixed it!” he said proudly. I smiled sleepily and took it from him. It fell apart in my hand.

“No it isn’t,” I replied. Dad frowned and took it back, ready to work again, when…

“Jamie! Mr Hatchett!” Owen cried, bursting into the room, “we’re being bombed! And Major Carter says that we’re being moved to the front line tomorrow but Nicci’s been killed by a bulldog. Rex has vanished and so have all our other animals, including Jinx, so Major Carter hopes you know how to fire a gun.” Owen stopped, sadness etched into his face. He was only a year or so older than me but in that moment he looked a lot older. Jinx was his best friend as Owen’s family had been killed in an air raid. Dad flicked me on the ear, bringing me back to the present.

“We’re bein’ bombed, y’know,” he yelled over the noise of a recently-started air raid siren, “so get a move on, kid!”

I followed Owen through the door, Dad close behind. Owen led us through a maze of corridors to the basement where everyone else was huddled. I’m slightly ashamed to say that I was pleased that Naumann and Walky weren’t there.

“Thank God that you can walk again, Mr Hatchett,” Carter said as soon as we entered the cold, dark room. “You might be dead otherwise.”

“We’d both be dead if it weren’t for Owen,” I butted in. Owen looked at me, pleased. I smiled back. “It’s true. He came and found us.”

“Did he tell you that we’re all being moved?” Carter asked. I nodded. Carter looked sad and a question occurred to me.

“Sir, what was your animal?” I asked. Carter looked at me, mildly surprised. He smiled sadly.

“Guess.” I looked to Owen for help. He shrugged. I looked closely at Carter, noticing indentations in his uniform both at the shoulder and wrist. They were curved in shape and quite thin, so…

“A snake?”

“Yep.” Carter smiled but looked at me suspiciously. “How did you know?”

“Dents in your uniform.” Carter nodded and turned away to a trembling young soldier with a shock of ginger hair who’d just approached him.

“Major Carter…” the soldier said, looking at us all nervously, “I have a message for you.”

“Go on, boy,” Carter said, not unkindly.

“Well… it’s concerning a pocket watch, sir. All the animals have become attracted to it and we don’t know why.”

“Where is it?” Dad snapped, seizing the soldier by the shoulders. “Where is the pocket watch?!”

“Th… third fl… floor… sir….” the soldier stammered. Dad growled in anger and let him go. He turned to me, frustration and worry in his eyes.

“I must’ve dropped it,” Dad said quietly, nodding towards the stairs. “I’ve got my strength back now.”

“I’m coming,” I said. Owen heard and stood by my shoulder.

“I’m coming too,” he said, determination making his voice harder. Dad glanced at us both and smiled mischieviously.

“Race you,” he said, and bolted for the stairs. I was hot on his heels and Owen close on mine. The stairs were long, really long, so there was no way we could overtake on them. Or was there?

“Hey!” Dad yelled as I sprang over him, the walls lending me strength. I landed running, laughing gleefully. As soon as the ground levelled out Owen caught up with me, Dad level with him. The corridor became a bit of a squash so I stopped running. Owen cannoned into me and Dad into him. They both ended up in a heap on the floor whilst I remained standing. Grinning, I kept on running.

Dad was the first to recover. He pulled himself out from the top of the stairs and ran after me. I didn’t hear him coming until he was right behind me, rugby-tackling me to the floor. Whilst I was pinned to the ground Owen leaped over us, landing in a badly timed roll. It gave me the chance to wriggle free, battling with Dad before the doorway. I won (using tickling) and dived through the doorway. Dad nearly landed on me but managed to flip over me. Owen skidded through the doorway, yelling something. He repeated it once he’d stopped skidding around the corridor.

“Walky!” he yelled. Dad and I looked at one another in confusion.

“Whaddya mean, ‘Walky’? What’s up with him?” Dad asked. Owen made a gasping noise, trying to get his breath back. Eventually he answered.

“Walky and Naumann. They both have weapons; Walky has a gun and Naumann has Squeakers.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. I’d explained to Dad about Squeakers and he looked equally terrified. We heard a thumping, squeaking noise coming down the corridor towards us.

“Aw Hell,” Dad whispered.