Chapter 39: A close call
22 February, 2008 – 12:27 amThomas ran as fast as his legs could carry him over the grassy hillock towards the bridge and river. His eyes were wide open with terror at the prospect of being petrified by the monster that was gaining ground quickly behind him.
In no time at all, it seemed, he was at the boat, scrabbling under the boughs of the willow tree, struggling to untie the rope from the mooring post.
‘Come on. Come on. Come on!’ he repeated to himself, trying to catch his breath whilst at the same time cursing his useless shaking hands.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hillary, running towards him with the others not far behind.
Hillary jumped aboard and ran towards the rear of the boat.
‘Hurry up and get the rope untied…’ he panted, fighting for breath.
In a matter of seconds he’d started the engine, and even though he was revving it hard, the strange desolate wail of the Cockatrice seemed to drown out the sound of the engines, shooting through his brain like a searing arrow. He clapped his hands over his ears in an effort to stop his head from exploding.
‘Don’t look at the eyes!’ he shouted, holding a hand up to his face to shield himself from the monster’s gaze. ‘Whatever you do, look away. Don’t look at it!’
Scarlet and Tobias rushed aboard, and soon the boat was straining at its moorings as the engines churned away, whipping the water white with froth. Thomas looked on in frustration and despair, pulling his hand away quickly from the rope as the heaving boat tightened the wet knot even further. It was useless, nothing would be able to undo it now.
‘Everyone below deck! Now!’ barked Hillary.
But Hillary noticed that Thomas was still struggling to get the rope loosened and hadn’t heard a word he’d said. In desperation, he rushed over and frantically started hacking away at the rope with a penknife.
Even though the creature was now no more than twenty metres away and getting closer by the second, Hillary felt an irresistible urge - just as Eliza had - to look up and stare at it. But instead he resisted and turned his head towards the other side of the river where - right before his eyes - a horse turned to stone in the field. As he stared, half-hypnotized, petrified birds began to fall from the skies, exploding on impact as they hit the ground, or plunging into the river in great splashes.
Finally Thomas cut through the rope and it fell away to the bank. Hillary, in one swift motion, picked him up and threw him towards the stairs, before diving for the tiller and throttle controls.
‘Tell everyone to stay below deck, no matter what!’ he barked.
But by now the monster had reached the boat and was furiously snapping at it, ripping the wooden decking to shreds with its terrible beak. Hillary turned to look away once more and jammed the throttle wide open as the Cockatrice reached over to jab at him, missing his head by mere inches, but exhaling a steaming cloud of its fetid breath right into his face in the process.
The stench was unbearably vile - reeking of the most awful foulness imaginable - and Hillary fought to keep conscious from it, trying to steady himself against the tiller as he began to feel himself lose conciousness. He’d never experienced anything like that before, but had read enough to know that the Cockatrice could poison wells, kill flowers and blight land just by walking past. And so, he guessed that its breath too was probably toxic in the extreme.
Hillary’s lungs were bursting. Thinking himself finished, Hillary could hold his breath no more and in desperation exhaled. But not before the boat rose up, lurching forward as the twin-engines unleashed their power on the river. Shaking his head to clear his mind, Hillary staggered to his feet and fought to control the boat.
From the bank, the Cockatrice watched as the boat moved off towards the stone bridge and away, letting out a deafening bellow of frustration as it watched the boat disappear up the river to be swallowed by the night mist.
Eventually the Cockatrice gave a disgruntled snort and turned back towards Winterton Hall and its masters.
