Part two
The fence looked much higher from close-up, and so did the tree.
"Look at that thing," Xander said, more than a little intimidated by the looming oak and the almost complete darkness in its shade. "It's huge."
The sun had set by now. The cloudless sky was tinged a dull mauve - still giving off more than enough light to see, but no longer full of bright pastels. The full moon, huge above the horizon, gleamed like an enchanted silver coin. But if you stepped underneath the old valley oak it was as if someone had switched off the light.
"So? It's a tree, and it's tall," Jack said with a shrug. "Now climb."
Nobody moved.
From the other side of the fence unfamiliar sounds and smells drifted to the four not-so-intrepid adventurers. The hum-and-stutter of machinery, snatches of music, and animal voices. One creature was roaring repeatedly, evoking images of a moonlit African steppe and a pride of lions tearing into the soft underbelly of a still twitching zebra. Xander swallowed.
"That barbed wire, do you think it's supposed to keep people out or to keep the tigers in?" Jesse asked, studying the fence. It was not just high, but also pretty sturdy. A dark green tarpaulin covered it from the inside, blocking the camp from view.
"Newsflash, loser," Jack snapped. "Tigers aren't some guard dogs. They get locked into cages, eat pork halves, and jump through burning loops. Can we get on with this?"
Since lions or tigers were the least of Xander's worries, Jack's words did little to reassure him. "I have a bad feeling about this," Xander intoned in his best Han Solo voice. The line earned him a fond glance from his friend.
"It's not like we're breaking into Fort Knox. Let's go," Jack urged. "Someone gimme a leg up."
Somehow, but to nobody's surprise, that task fell to Xander. He leaned against the trunk, made a stirrup with his hands and hoisted Jack in the air. A boot dug painfully into his shoulders, almost making him stagger, and tree-bark crumbled on his face, making his nose itch, but then the weight was gone, as Jack pulled himself up.
Jesse and Daniel soon followed. Xander peered anxiously into the foliage. The others were almost fully obscured from view, their whereabouts identifiable more by sound than by sight.
On the other side of the fence, the unidentified creature roared again, loud and fearsome. Maybe it was just a lion or tiger roaring for his dinner; even so, the sound made Xander's blood run cold.
"I'll … uh … stay here and, you know, guard your back, or something." After all, he'd seen circus shows on TV, and if you'd seen one circus, you'd seen them all.
A metal-tipped olive ribbon dangled in front of his eyes - the strap from Danny's army bag. These things were practically indestructible, right?
"Come on," he heard Jesse's voice urge him on.
The alternative was staying here, on his own, in the dark. With one last resigned look at his trusty old skateboard and a mental promise to himself to come back for it later, Xander grabbed the end of the strap. He wrapped it round his hand for better purchase, then half climbed, half allowed himself to be pulled upwards. Two pairs of hands secured him, until Xander was awkwardly clinging to a thick branch.
Jesse welcomed him with an exhilarated smile, Daniel gave him a calm, manly nod, Jack ignored him. Their self-proclaimed pack leader was already edging round the middle of the tree to get his feet on a sturdy thick bough that branched off from the trunk at almost a right angle to the one they were currently perched on.
Grinning recklessly, Jack spread his arms and nimbly balanced along the branch as though walking a tightrope. The branch creaked underneath his weight, even seemed to bob a little. Leaves trembled with every step he took. Directly above the fence Jack stopped and scanned the area on the other side - not for hungry lions but for guard dogs or security guards.
"All clear," he said and turned to face the others.
They straddled the branch and edged forward, crossing the fence much more cautiously than their sure-footed leader. They'd all been brought up on movies where wrongdoers ended up impaled - spires and fences often acting as impartial tools of justice that made sure the hero didn't get his hands dirty.
The branch groaned and sagged under their joint weight, but it held. Jack lowered himself from the bough, feet dangling four feet above the ground. He winked, then let go.
His sneaker-clad feet hit the sun-baked ground with barely a sound. Jack landed in a graceful crouch that made the jump look easy. Like a primitive hunter stalking his prey, Jack silently took in his surroundings. In the twilight, one could almost mistake the dark bruise around his eye for war paint. Add a red loincloth and a spear, and the picture would be complete, Xander thought.
Satisfied that his jump had gone unnoticed, Jack moved aside, rose from his crouch, and gestured for the others to follow.
Danny and Jesse landed less elegantly but without mishap. They raised their expectant faces to Xander. 'Come on,' they gestured silently. Meanwhile, Jack was already edging away, eager to explore the unknown.
The jump looked easy enough. If Danny and Jesse could do it, Xander should be able to make it down too. There was no reason to freeze, yet he did. His palms were sweaty, and his heart was racing, and there was this painful lump in his throat that made breathing difficult and that throbbed with every frightened beat of his pulse.
"Hurry up, you ninny," Jack hissed. "We haven't got all night!"
"Maybe I should stay here. I mean, how are we gonna get back up?" Xander whispered back. "Fly?"
"Yep. That's the plan. We'll flap our wings and swoop over the fence," Jack mocked him. "Dimwit."
"We'll take the main exit," Danny explained matter-of-factly, "after the show, when all the other people leave."
"Oh, right." Xander felt sheepish for not thinking of this possibility sooner. With no excuse left, he wiped his clammy hands on his pants, before awkwardly lowering himself from the branch. Just like gym class, he told himself, looking down to see his feet dangling in the air. Only worse. Mustering all his willpower, Xander let go. The ground rushed towards him faster than he'd calculated, leading to an awkward landing. Xander's right ankle twisted – Ouch! – causing him to lose his balance. Then his shoulder hit the ground. Oof!
"Xander, are you alright?" Jesse whispered urgently.
"I don't know. I—I think I hurt my ankle," Xander said through clenched teeth, trying to gingerly move his foot. Pain flared up, but Xander knew what broken bones hurt like, and this wasn't nearly as bad. Just a sprain, then. Plus of course the sickening humiliation of once again being Mr. Clumsy.
"Can you walk?"
"I can try."
Jesse hoisted him to his feet and Xander limped into the shade behind a large sixteen-wheeler truck, where Danny and Jack had taken cover.
"I'm alright," Xander hastened to say, although he wasn't. Not really.
Jack rolled his eyes, but made no comment.
"The big top's over there," he said, indicating a direction on the other side of the truck. "All we have to do is lie low, until there's a big crowd and then we sneak inside. But we've got at least an hour to kill before they let people in."
They fell silent.
A soft, almost imperceptible hum saturated the air, like a swarm of bees or wasps, but less aggressive. Also, too rhythmic to be made by animals. Maybe the running engine of a car?
Whatever. Xander slumped down on the ground and leaned against one of the huge wheels. He brushed the dirt off his button down shirt, then pulled up his pant leg to probe his ankle with his fingertips. It wasn't swollen or hot or anything, so maybe things weren't so bad.
Suddenly a deafening, drawn-out howl caused the boys to jump. Feral and primeval, it was the kind of sound that could make a grown man run blindly into the dark. It creepy-crawlied down their spines like a centipede. Rekindling instincts that harkened back to the black continent, where the peal of man's first drums had risen stubbornly above a steppe fallen silent with terror.
TBC