Creeping Terror (12 page)

A
SUDDEN LIGHT EXPLODED IN FRONT OF BEN. A rush of heat, brighter and angrier than the sun. The branches holding him withered in a moment, shrinking back. They shrivelled and burned.

He hurled himself backwards and knocked straight into Maria. She grabbed him tight, stopping them both from falling.

A ball of flame erupted from the open hatch on the tank’s turret. It blasted upwards and outwards. Fire ran like liquid across the shell of the vehicle. A wall of flame rolled towards them. The ground on all sides was on fire. Green became red and orange and yellow, with black smoke billowing out. Branches fell, creepers sagged, plants were engulfed as the tracked fireball roared through the jungle.

With nowhere else to go, Ben and Maria threw themselves forward, into the flames – and out the
other side. The tank had been burned clean. The dark metal was smoking. Charred remains of the vegetation emerged from the hatch like blackened bones. Ben could feel the heat through his shoes. He had to keep moving so as not to get burned. His clothes were steaming.

Together they ran for the hatch. Inside the fire had died down, but the interior of the tank was filled with smoke. The vehicle continued undeterred, crashing through the undergrowth. It lurched violently upwards as it hit something. Stone crunched and shattered like sugar lumps under the tracks.

A tombstone.

They were in the churchyard.

Through a sudden clearing in the jungle, the church tower loomed ominously against the smoky sky. The fire on the tank had all but burned out. The plants around had stopped burning too. A blackened trail followed the tank as it tore through the vegetation. It was only going at walking pace, but nothing was about to stop it. The statue of an angel was knocked aside, wings crumbling. More gravestones shattered.

The smoke inside the tank was thinning a bit. Maria’s eyes were shining – from excitement, or
maybe from the stinging smoke. She pointed down through the hatch.

‘Guide me,’ she shouted.

‘You know how to steer this thing?’ Ben asked, staring at her.

‘No. But it’s got to be easier than trying to stop it.’ She lowered herself quickly through the hatch. The remains of the plants inside shattered as she touched them, crumbling to powdered charcoal.

Ben leaned down into the tank. The cabin was a blackened mess. He was amazed how cramped the space inside the large vehicle seemed. Maria was strapping herself into one of the seats and reaching for the charred controls. There were small windows at the front through which she could look out, but she couldn’t see much more than the thrashing foliage all around them as the tank forced its way through.

The whole vehicle lurched sideways.

‘We’ve hit something!’ Ben shouted.

The tank lurched the other way.

‘No, we haven’t. That was me,’ Maria shouted back. ‘I’ve got it now. Tell me which way to go.’

Ben looked up, searching for a glimpse of the church tower through the canopy of green.

Sam was crouching down at the other side of
the hatch. ‘Over there.’ She pointed across to the left of the tank.

‘Left!’ Ben yelled into the cabin.

‘How much left?’

‘Just … left. I’ll say when to stop.’

The tank lurched sideways again, knocking Sam over. She picked herself up. ‘Driven a lot of tanks, has she?’

‘I think she’s still learning.’

They crashed through more greenery and bumped over a fallen tree.

‘Too far,’ Ben called to Maria. ‘Back a bit. Just a bit though. Maybe five degrees,’ he added, looking at Sam to see if that sounded about right.

Maria’s voice was faint and muffled. ‘How much is five degrees, Mastermind?’

The tank was realigning, more evenly this time.

‘About that much,’ Ben agreed. ‘Just keep going forward.’

Small trees and bushes folded down and crunched under the tracks. Chunks of broken gravestone went flying. Branches and leaves whipped over Ben and Sam as they clung to the top of the tank. It seemed to be picking up speed.

‘Right a bit more,’ Sam told Ben.

He called to Maria and she corrected the tank.

The tower loomed huge above them, blotting out the sky – much larger than the tank. They were so close that Ben could see the cracks in the ancient, weathered stonework. He could see the weeds and moss and stonecrop and tufts of grass embedded in the crumbling mortar.

He could see the carved faces of the Green Man snarling in anger – in sudden horror as they saw the heavy tank smashing through the last barriers between them.

‘I don’t think we want to be on the top here,’ Sam shouted to Ben.

She was right. They were hurtling at the tower, gathering more and more speed.

‘Time to get out,’ Ben shouted through the hatch.

‘No way!’ Maria yelled back. ‘I have to hold it steady or it veers off. And anyway, there’s no time.’

She looked over her shoulder and Ben saw her face was set in an expression of determination and exhilaration.

‘You jump,’ she told him. ‘I’m staying here.’

He could tell there was no point in arguing with her. Sam was no longer there – maybe she’d jumped or maybe she’d just … gone.

With no time to see what he’d be landing on, Ben leapt from the top of the tank. He rolled as he hit
the ground, tangling in a mass of undergrowth and knocking his shoulder painfully against a tombstone.

He came to a halt and looked up to see the tank plough into the tower.

It smashed through the corner of the building, sending stones and mortar flying. For a while, the tank kept going, forcing its way through the building. But then it slowed. The engine was straining, the tracks caught in roots and rubble. The massive tower was leaning to one side. But it remained standing.

The carved heads stared down at Ben. Even though he couldn’t make out their expressions, he could feel their hatred.

‘Maria,’ Ben breathed.

She was trapped in the tank, which was buried in the side of the tower. With the weight of the building crushing down on the turret, there was no way was she ever getting out.

‘Ben, are you OK?’ Gemma struggled out of the tangled undergrowth in front of him.

Rupam was close behind her. ‘Where’s Maria?’ he gasped.

In answer, Ben could only point at the tank jutting out from the church tower. As he pointed, the building trembled. A shower of stone fragments
fell from the already ruined top of the tower, clattering across the back of the tank.

The sound of the tank’s engine deepened. Ben could imagine Maria inside, trapped, hearing the rattle of stones on the roof and struggling to get moving again.

The tank inched forward. The tracks tore into the rubble beneath, finally getting some purchase and easing the vehicle forward.

As it moved, the tower above shook. More stones fell – larger chunks and blocks. A gargoyle crashed down, shattering to pieces on the side of the tank. Slowly but surely, though, the heavy vehicle was pulling clear – and the tower was collapsing as it did so.

The whole thing happened in slow motion. The tank pulling away. Black fumes streaming from the exhausts. The tower leaning, tipping. The stones at the top falling – the effect travelling down the length of the structure as it crashed down.

Ben and the others turned away. They covered their heads with their hands and arms as fragments of stone flew past them. Choking dust rose like smoke, clogging their eyes and throats, and the roar of the tank was lost in the rumble of the collapsing building.

All around, the trees and plants were in a frenzy. It was like a gale was blowing through the bizarre jungle, fanning the fire started when Ben had let off the flare. Nothing was still. A noise like shrieking or screaming filled the air.

A stone head rolled across the ground close to Ben. A screaming face surrounded by leaves. It stared at him accusingly and he realised that they hadn’t won yet – the grotesque creature still had power.

A rusty, broken shovel slammed down into the face, splitting the ancient carving with a screech of metal on stone. Growl lifted the shovel from the debris. Knight stood beside him.

‘We must find them all and break them,’ Growl said. ‘Just as Greene broke the statues of the saints. It seems that destroying the tower didn’t work, so the only way to destroy the power of the Green Man is to break up the images of him.’

The ground was covered with rubble from the tower. One half of it had collapsed completely, the other was a stunted, ragged ruin.

‘You find the carved heads in the rubble,’ Knight told Ben and the others. ‘Growl and I will get the ones still on the tower.’ He glanced at the battered tank, which had slewed to a halt some metres away. ‘And see if Maria’s all right.’

There were two carved heads lying close together nearby. Ben tried not to look as he brought a heavy lump of stone down on one of them. It shattered at his second blow. Rupam smashed the other head repeatedly with another piece of stone from the ruins.

The falling tower had cleared the immediate area of plants. But away from the devastation, the greenery was thrashing angrily. The fires were dying down, beaten out by the dense undergrowth.

‘What else can happen?’ Rupam said, seeing Ben and Gemma’s anxious looks.

‘I don’t want to find out,’ Ben told him. ‘Let’s just smash these stone heads and be done with it.’

But Gemma’s gasp brought his attention back to the circle of green. ‘The Green Man.’

One whole section of vegetation was gathering, growing, forming into a massive figure. It stood over three metres high. Leaves wove round its head, while stems and branches jutted from its body. The hands were wooden stumps, with leafy fingers sprouting out. Although made from roots and branches, leaves and stems, it was recognisably Colonel Greene. His huge face echoed the foliate heads that had been round the tower. It twisted in rage as the figure tore itself free of the plants and
trees and started across the sea of rubble towards Ben, Rupam and Gemma.

‘Find the rest of the heads,’ Ben said. ‘We have to smash them before it gets to us.’

Climbing over the remains of the tower, Knight and Growl had seen what was happening. Knight took the shovel from Growl and prised a foliate head away from its alcove. It fell to the ground, shattering to pieces as it hit the rubble-strewn ground below. He reached across for the next of the heads.

‘Here’s one!’ Gemma shouted.

She hammered at it with a stone, but wasn’t strong enough to break it. Rupam ran to help.

‘Ben, over here,’ he called.

But Ben was staring at the nightmare figure lurching towards them. ‘We have to destroy that too,’ he realised. ‘We have to kill the Green Man.’

There would be a flare pistol in the tank. Just like the one he’d got from the other tank with Knight. Ben was running before he’d even consciously thought of that. His ankle twisted painfully on the uneven rubble, but he kept going. Maria was hauling herself out of the tank turret. She looked shaken and pale. When she saw what was coming after Ben, her eyes widened in shock and horror.

‘Flare pistol,’ he yelled. ‘In the kit box inside the turret!’

Maria disappeared inside the tank again.

The massive creature was stomping after Ben. It howled in inarticulate fury. A huge arm reached out for him, shoots erupting from the stubby green fingers, growing rapidly into creepers.

He managed to avoid them and kept running, clambering over a pile of stones and up on to the back of the tank.

‘Flare pistol!’ he yelled again.

‘There isn’t one,’ Maria told him, emerging again from the hatch.

‘There is – there has to be.’

She ducked inside again as Ben followed her and dropped down into the cabin. He could see the box fixed on the inside wall. And he could see that it was open – the flare pistol gone. Ben felt a sudden punch of panic and disbelief. This was the
same
tank that he and Knight had been in earlier. The flare pistol was gone because he had already taken it.

‘I think we have a problem,’ Maria said, and the calmness with which she spoke was worrying – as if she was resigned to their fate.

Through the narrow observation window at
the front of the tank, Ben saw the huge figure of the Green Man standing right in front of them, less than ten metres away. The hideous face was twisted in unnatural laughter.

Ben and Maria were both frozen with fear. The only movement was the Green Man stepping towards them. And a flicker of light on the charred instrument panel in front of Ben.

Maria saw it at the same moment. A flicker of red under the black residue of the fire. A button, the protective cover that usually hid it standing open – as if the button was about to be pressed when the flare burned away the plants that were driving the tank and shelling the village.

Ben’s finger hit the button at the same moment as Maria’s. They both pressed hard. They both felt the tank shudder. They both heard the roar of the gun above them.

And they both watched through the observation window as the shell of depleted uranium hit the green figure. It exploded on his chest, the sudden fireball rippling out. In an instant the creature was engulfed in an inferno. The limbs fell away, still burning. Fire raged through the body, erupting from the screaming mouth and hollow eyes.

Behind the falling mass of flame stood the
shattered remains of the church tower. As the fireball consumed the last of the Green Man and burned itself out, Knight raised the last of the foliate heads and dashed it against the side of the ruined tower wall. It shattered into pieces.

On the far side of the devastation, another tank appeared. It pushed through the trees and slowed to a halt. Already the vegetation was drawing back from its dark, brutal exterior. All around, the greenery was dying down. What had been a jungle was again just an overgrown graveyard, beside a ruined church and the collapsed remains of a tower.

Ben climbed out of the tank, reaching back to help Maria after him.

‘Look,’ she said, staring past Ben. ‘Look at the other tank.’

He turned to see what she meant. The tank was again covered with plants. But it wasn’t the unforgiving greenery of leaves and wood, brambles and thorns. Spilling from the hatch and dripping from the barrel of the gun, laced through the tracks and wheels, was a mass of colour – reds and yellows, blues and pinks. The tank was covered with flowers.