Do You Dare? Fighting Bones Read online

  Declan stood and stretched, the aches in his body causing him to wince. A flock of black parrots flew through the sky, squawking like a line of Dublin fishmongers, their tails yellow and bright. The sea spread out before him, glinting golden beneath the sun. For a moment, he lost himself in the vision of the enormous moving blanket of water.

  ‘Big, isn’t it?’ croaked Seamus, coming out from under the bushes.

  Danny rubbed his eyes and stretched. ‘Full of sharks.’

  ‘Did you know sharks can walk on land?’ Col grumbled, the last to crawl out into the light.

  ‘We got to keep going,’ said Declan. ‘They’ll know we’re missing now. Every soldier in Van Diemen’s Land will be after us.’

  ‘Time to get moving,’ said Seamus.

  ‘Don’t forget to make your beds,’ said Col.

  ‘Or brush your hair,’ Declan said, and grabbed Col in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles over Col’s skull and grinning.

  Walking during the day was very different to walking at night. For one thing, they had left the sea behind them. Declan tried to remember the doctor’s map. We must be on the long stretch up to the neck by now, he thought, though he knew he was only guessing. Adrenalin charged through him as he led the boys through the bush, only just within sight of the road. Declan would have preferred to stay away from the road completely, but he knew how easy it would be to become lost in the wilderness. He’d heard stories of prisoners who had tried to flee Port Arthur only to be found dead days later in the middle of the forest. Declan had never felt more alert, more frightened or more ready to fight.

  As he walked, he looked up at the trees overhead; they seemed alien and cruel. The bright winter sun seemed to mock him with its cheerful light. For a while, the gang was followed by a giant eagle, its tail arrow-shaped. Declan didn’t know if the enormous bird was leading them closer to danger or away from it.

  Suddenly Declan heard Danny cry out. He turned to see his brother lying on his side in the dirt.

  ‘Danny! Are you okay?’ Declan ran back to Danny.

  ‘It was nothing,’ Danny answered, pulling himself up to sitting. ‘Just tripped.’

  Declan knew he had to hide how much he feared for his brother. Danny hated to be treated as if he was different from anybody else. ‘All right to keep going?’

  ‘No, I’m going to sit here and wait for a guard to find me – you boys go on ahead.’ Danny hissed. ‘’Course I’m all right.’ He got to his feet, refusing Declan’s outstretched hand.

  Danny needs to rest, thought Declan, and yet we’ve no choice but to keep moving.

  After walking another hour Seamus spoke to him without the younger boys being able to hear. ‘We got to do something about water, Dec.’

  ‘I know,’ Declan answered softly. ‘If we can just make it a bit closer to the Neck . . .’ But even then, he thought to himself, will there be fresh water? And would that help Danny? Would his brother have enough strength left to face the ocean?

  Soon Declan heard voices. ‘Down, boys!’ he whispered urgently.

  The boys crouched low in the bushes, still as statues.

  In the distance, Declan saw a gang of convicts at work felling trees. He noticed overseers standing guard on all sides. Declan’s skin prickled. But where there were workers, there was bound to be water.

  ‘Christ,’ whispered Col. ‘That was close.’

  ‘What now?’ whispered Danny, his face drained of colour.

  Declan looked through the bush to see if there was enough room to get around the convict workers. And there, through the trees, only fifteen feet away, he saw a large wooden barrel. Water.

  Declan knew that if they didn’t drink soon they wouldn’t make it anywhere. He gestured for the boys to follow him. This will either save our lives or finish us, he thought as they inched through the bush.

  When they came to the barrel, Seamus dipped in the pitcher that was tied to the handle then passed it, full of water, to Col. Declan stood guard while each of the boys took a long drink. When it was his turn, the cool water ran down his throat, washing away his aches and pains and clearing his head. He was grateful when Seamus passed the pitcher around again.

  But then Declan saw one of the convicts heading towards them.

  Declan dropped the pitcher against the barrel with a loud crash. The convict looked straight at him. He’s seen us, thought Declan. There was no escaping, no running for it, the man was too close – they were done. None of the boys moved.

  When the man came close, Declan saw that a jagged scar ran the length of his face, as if a knife had been dragged from the corner of his eye down to the edge of his mouth. His clothes were torn, his tall, strong body covered in sweat. His cold stare held Declan transfixed.

  ‘You those boys everybody’s after?’ The man’s voice was gruff and deep, as if the knife that had scarred his face had also torn his throat.

  Declan nodded slowly.

  ‘Drinking from our water tank?’

  Declan nodded again.

  ‘The water we carried all the way from the Port?’

  Declan nodded, terrified. Was the man going to blow the whistle?

  The convict looked around at the boys one at a time, as if he was enjoying their terror. Suddenly he grabbed Seamus by the throat, the muscles in his arm taut and hard. Jesus! Not Seamus! thought Declan, knowing the rest of the gang put together was no match for this man.

  Seamus’s face was turning red and his eyes bulged. Just as Declan was about to throw himself at the convict, the man’s face seemed to drop and his shoulders sag. He released Seamus who staggered backwards. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked Danny.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ snarled Declan.

  ‘Da–Danny,’ Danny answered, his voice shaking.

  ‘How old are you?’ the man asked.

  ‘I don’t know, sir. Maybe I am ten. But – but I could be nine. I don’t know . . .’

  ‘Nine,’ Declan said. ‘He’s nine.’

  ‘My son will be nine at Christmas,’ the man said, his voice shaking now. ‘That’s when he was born – Christmas Day. Ain’t seen ’im in a long time. Don’t know where he is – don’t even know if he’s alive . . .’ He rubbed his hand across his mouth, continuing to look at Danny. Then he glanced at Declan. ‘Your boys had enough to drink?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Declan answered.

  ‘The Neck’s five miles.’ He gestured towards the bush. ‘Stay in the thick of it and if you’re going to swim it, don’t leave it too late. Make sure you get in the water at least a mile before the Neck itself. Once the dogs get your scent it’s all over.’

  ‘Boyd!’ Declan heard an overseer calling harshly through the bush. ‘Where’s that water?’

  ‘Coming, sir!’ the man called back over his shoulder. ‘Bringing a full pitcher, sir!’ As he stepped forward to take the pitcher, the spell that had held Declan frozen broke, and he backed away from the tank, signalling for the others to follow him into the bush.

  They ran until Declan could go no further. He fell against a tree, his body shaking as he tried to catch his breath. The others did the same.

  ‘That was our closest call yet,’ Seamus panted.

  ‘Them boys that everybody’s after – that’s what the man said. They know,’ said Danny.

  ‘Of course they know!’ said Declan. ‘They’ve known for hours. They’re coming for us.’ He got to his feet.

  As if to mark Declan’s words, a single gunshot rang through the bush. Declan looked at the gang in horror.

  ‘Was that meant for us?’ asked Danny, his eyes wide.

  ‘They’re letting us know they’re onto us,’ said Seamus.

  ‘Mother of God!’ Col’s face drained of blood.

  ‘If we got away, we’d be makin’ a mockery of them. They’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen,’ said Declan, suddenly feeling beaten.

  ‘Come on, boys,’ said Seamus. ‘Only five miles to the Neck is what ol’ scarface told us. Look how
far we’ve come with luck on our side. No reason to believe that’s going to change.’ He took the last of the meat and bread from under his shirt.

  ‘There’s no time to eat,’ said Declan.

  ‘There’s time,’ said Seamus. ‘If we don’t eat we’ll have no strength.’

  ‘And God knows we’ll need strength to face them sharks.’ Col winked at him.

  ‘You’re right,’ said Declan, sitting back down. He tried to swallow his meat but feelings of panic rose up in his throat. He hadn’t wanted to tell the rest of the gang how uncertain he was about exactly where they were and when the right time was to attempt to swim. What if I take us too close and the dogs get us? he thought. He tried to picture the Neck but the lines of the doctor’s map wouldn’t stay steady in his mind. How much longer until they reached the top of the peninsula? When would they see the ocean again? Despite the cold, Declan felt sweat trickling down his back.

  ‘You okay, Dec?’ Col asked him.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Declan answered. I have to stop thinking this way, he thought. Or I’ll be no good to anyone.

  When the gang had finished the last of the food, Declan pulled himself to his feet. ‘Come on,’ he said to others, with much more strength then he felt. ‘Move your fighting bones.’

  ‘Fighting bones, fighting bones,’ the four chanted softly as they continued on their way.

  When at last Declan saw the ocean through the trees he felt thrilled, as if he was seeing an old friend. This time it was to the boys’ left. On the other side, in the far distance, Declan saw land. Maybe we’ll become bushrangers yet, he thought, feeling renewed strength and determination. ‘We’ll walk another half a mile or so, then it will be time to swim,’ he told the boys. Declan knew that if they went into the water too early, the distance to the other side would be too great, and they’d never make it. He had to judge it just right. ‘Fighting bones, fighting bones,’ he chanted under his breath as they walked through the bush.

  The rest of the gang joined his whispered war cry. ‘Fighting bones! Fighting bones!’

  Then, moments later, Declan heard dogs. Jesus! he thought. No! We’re too close to the settlement! The dogs were barking and howling as if they’d already caught the boys’ scent. What have I done? he asked himself frantically. The breath tore in and out of his body, his thoughts raced. It’s over. I’ve finished us . . . ‘Seamus! We’ve come too far!’ he panted.

  Seamus looked at him hard. ‘Then we have to make the best of it.’

  ‘The best of it?’ He wanted to scream. ‘What do you mean the best of it? Can’t you hear the dogs? Didn’t you hear what the prisoner told us? Once we hear the dogs it’s too late!’

  ‘Calm down, Dec. There’s nothing we can do about it now. We’ll just have to cross – what choice do we have?’

  But as hard as Declan tried, he couldn’t think straight. He sat down hard on the ground, his face in his hands as he tried to come up with a plan. His chest felt tight with panic as he struggled to breathe.

  ‘We need to rest,’ said Seamus, looking at Declan.

  ‘We can’t rest,’ answered Declan, pulling himself to his feet as another wave of barking and howling split the air. ‘We have to get across.’ But as he spoke, he felt confused again. Should they trek back the way they had come? Or should they get into the water now? Or would it be safest to just give themselves up?

  ‘Declan. We all have to rest,’ said Seamus, firmly. ‘And we should wait until nightfall before we try to cross anyway. This is as good a place as any. Hidden by the rock face and the trees.’

  ‘We just have to hope no redcoats come looking this way,’ said Col.

  ‘They’ll never find us in here!’ Danny called. His head poked out from a gap between the rocks. ‘Step through – there’s plenty of room.’

  Declan stepped through the gap and found himself in a cave. ‘Beats one of them solitary cells,’ he said, kicking away stones and branches. ‘Good work, Danny.’

  ‘Tea will be served at nightfall,’ said Col. ‘Would you like butter with your potatoes?’

  Declan was too tired to laugh. He lay on the floor and fell immediately to sleep.

  ‘Screeeeeeeech!’

  Declan woke to the call of the Masked Owl. He sat up with a start, his hairs on end. He was freezing cold and his gut burned with hunger. Where am I? he wondered. It didn’t take long for him to remember. ‘Danny, Col, wake up, Seamus.’ Declan roused the others. It was pitch black in the cave – not even a sliver of light from the crack at the cave’s entrance.

  ‘Bleeding hell,’ said Col, sitting up. ‘I could be a ghost. I can’t see my own hand in front of my face.’

  Declan stood and felt against the rocks for the gap. When he stuck his head through, he saw a sky full of stars and a three-quarter moon.

  ‘It’s even clearer than last night,’ said Col, sticking his head out beneath Declan’s.

  Seamus pushed past Declan out of the cave. ‘Come on, boys, this is it,’ he said. ‘If we get past the Neck we’ll become bushrangers yet.’

  Declan heard dogs howling again in the distance. His stomach churned.

  ‘Can they smell us?’ asked Col anxiously.

  ‘Probably,’ answered Declan. ‘Come on, we better move.’

  Just as all four boys were out of the cave, Declan heard footsteps. He grabbed Danny by the scruff of his neck and pushed him back through the gap. The others tumbled in behind them. They crouched in silence as the footsteps grew louder. Declan could feel Danny trembling against him. Or is it me? he wondered.

  ‘They won’t be far away, gov, that much we can be sure of,’ Declan heard a man say.

  Then, ‘When the dogs begin to bark we’ve as good as got ’em,’ said another.

  ‘It’ll be back to Point Puer and a stone-cold cell.’

  Declan heard men laughing. Must be a search party, he thought, trying to find us. Would they see the gap between the rocks?

  ‘We’ll string ’em up by their ankles when we catch the little rats,’ said another.

  Declan shuddered.

  ‘You got to hand it to the rascals, they got the better of us so far. Must have guts.’

  ‘I’ll give ’em that. They got guts all right.’

  ‘Or luck . . .’

  Declan noticed the voices were growing more distant. Thank God! He could breathe again.

  ‘Sweet Mother of God, that was close,’ whispered Danny. ‘How many of ’em were there?’

  ‘Sounded like half the navy,’ said Col.

  ‘I wonder which direction they were heading in,’ said Seamus.

  ‘East,’ answered Declan without hesitation. ‘To the guard’s settlement at the Neck.’ He peered out through the gap. The men were gone. There was no time to waste. The gang needed the space and anonymity of Hobart Town. ‘Time for us to swim, boys.’

  Just as he was about to step through the gap Col stopped him. ‘Hold up a minute, Dec.’

  ‘What is it?’ Declan whispered.

  ‘No matter what happens, it was worth every minute,’ said the younger boy.

  ‘What do you mean, No matter what happens?’ said Seamus. ‘We go to Hobart Town is what happens.’

  Col continued as if he hadn’t heard him. ‘Did you hear what them soldiers said? We got guts. All I been told my whole life is that I’m no good. Just a chancer. But we got the whole of Van Diemen’s Land on the run and you’re wearing boots I made good as new.’

  Declan stood back as Col pushed ahead of him. ‘Guts and fighting bones is what we got,’ Col said as he disappeared through the gap.

  That much is true, thought Declan. You got guts, Col.

  When they reached the sea, Declan saw lights moving up and down through the trees in the distance. Must be the military men hunting for us, he thought. It sounded like every soldier in the country. Declan was terrified. ‘Down to the water!’ he said to the gang, every nerve in his body taut with fear.

  Seamus and Danny picked up the pace, scramb
ling down the slope towards the ocean. Though his limp was heavy, Danny kept up. Declan felt his throat tighten with pride. It was Col who was lagging behind, coming slowly down through the bushes a short distance behind. ‘Quick, Col, we can’t waste a second!’ Declan called up to him.

  ‘I’m coming,’ Col answered.

  Declan heard the dogs howling louder. ‘Where have I led us?’ he asked himself as he watched Col struggling down the slope. Suddenly he wished they’d never left the prison. Maybe Col and Seamus would have been better off . . .

  At last Col caught up to him. ‘Guts and fighting bones, Dec. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’

  Hearing Col’s words, Declan felt his burden lighten. Together they made their way down the steep slope towards the sea.

  And there it was glowing before him like mercury, rippling with movement – the ocean. Declan and the boys climbed down to the rocks. Above them the lanterns moved through the bush. Declan heard voices shouting, and dogs squealing.

  ‘We’ll swim out wide enough for them to lose sight of us, but not wide enough to get taken out by the current,’ he said to the others. He began to pull off his boots.

  ‘Keep the boots on, Dec,’ said Col. ‘There’s no time.’

  He’s right, thought Declan. And I’ll need the boots on the other side. ‘Quick, Col, we got to get in the water,’ he called. ‘We’ll be harder to see that way.’

  Up ahead, Seamus ran in first. No turning back now, thought Declan.

  The water was freezing against Declan’s thighs and stomach as he climbed down off the rocks. He saw Danny head bravely in after Seamus. Declan pushed himself in deeper, gasping with the cold. He struck out behind Danny. Declan was terrified of losing sight of the others – but then Seamus turned around in the water and raised his hand in the air. He knows to stay close, thought Declan.

  Where was Col? Declan looked around the water. He could see Danny and Seamus, but he couldn’t see Col. He looked back at the shore and saw him crouched against a rock. ‘Col!’ he called out. ‘Hurry! Get in the water!’