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The Fox of Richmond Park Page 8
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‘Vince, please listen to us,’ the father said. ‘You don’t even know if she’s hurt, you’re just thinking the worst and getting yourself all worked up. If she’s okay, then she’ll come and find you. If not, then, well, you’ve got nothing to gain by going back in.’
‘What do you mean?’ Vince stared at the otter, tears in his eyes.
‘I mean, there’s no point you both getting killed.’
‘If it means saving Rita, then I’ll risk it. I can’t find a new home without her. I won’t.’
‘You’re not thinking straight.’
The otter was right, of course. Vince knew that. If one of them was going to go looking for the other, Rita would be quicker and cover more ground. She would know that, and she wouldn’t hang around in there if she didn’t have to. And Vince could barely walk, let alone run or fight.
As Vince opened his mouth to reply, a chilling scream reverberated through the night air.
‘Arreeeee! Eeoo! Arreeeee! Eeoo!’
The animals looked at each other. ‘That’s Felipe. He’s not far. You need to leave, Vince,’ the mother said.
‘What about you?’ he asked.
‘We’ll be fine. We’ll find somewhere to hide until morning. We know where the humans are likely to find us when they do their morning checks, so they’ll take us straight back to our pond and we won’t have to worry about running into security.’
‘And after that?’
‘Who knows – but we’re residents, so they won’t kill us. The humans wouldn’t let that happen. Hopefully your speech will have made a difference, though. We’ll just have to wait and see.’
He looked to each of the otters in turn. ‘I really can’t thank you all enough. You know, we’re trying to find a new home, a place where everyone is free. You’re welcome to come with me… With us.’
‘Thank you, but we can’t leave our home. We’ve got the pups to think about. They’ll be safer here than out in the city, despite all this. I’m sure everything will be okay.’ Her words reassured her pups, but the mother otter’s grave face gave away her uncertainty.
Vince felt awful. Who knew what those birds would do to the family, but at least they had the humans on their side, and their community, broken though it was. Unlike them, Rita was an outsider, and now she’d actually committed the crime they’d first been accused of. What chance did she stand? He looked at the fence again as another shriek boomed from the trees on the other side. Felipe was much closer.
Vince shivered. He could almost feel their rigid beaks ripping at his fur again. ‘Okay, well, I think I need to run.’
The otters wished Vince good luck and they all exchanged goodbyes as he turned to leave. His wounded leg was stiff and throbbed as he forced it to move with the other three. Glancing back, he watched as they scurried back along the fence, low to the ground, almost invisible against the wood panels. Felipe screeched, now mere leaps away, and the trees quivered in response. Vince returned his attention to the path, flattened his ears and ran as fast as his broken body would allow.
*
Kara woke with the moonrise, still hacked off. She had wasted most of the previous evening on a wild goose chase, making it all the way back to Richmond Park before realising the badger had lied. She’d even checked the whole perimeter again in case she’d missed the fox approaching. Once she was sure he was nowhere around, she only had time to make it back to the badger’s woodland before sunrise. It was her own fault, though. She had been complacent. From now on, she would double-check her sources. At least Edward hadn’t spotted her. He was probably already getting impatient and thinking about sending someone else. Over her dead body. Those rabbits were hers. She had to find Vince tonight.
As the orange sky melted away to inky blue, she preened her feathers one by one. The chattering of the diurnal birds dwindled until the only sounds were the distant hum of the human road and the rustling of mice in the long grass. Several of the latter made an excellent breakfast, and now that her belly was full, her search for the fox and the magpie could resume. The badger would probably be surfacing soon too, but, despite her threat, he was not her priority.
She took off from the tree and sailed noiselessly northwards on her ghostly wings. The fox would probably have crossed the bridge that Edward mentioned by now, but that just meant he would be easier to find. North of the river meant fewer trees, more roads and more street lamps. She wasn’t worried. It was rare that a creature slipped from her grasp.
Below, paths carved their way through closely packed trees and irregular ponds like a slow worm. A solid expanse of water shimmered to the east, pockets of birds sleeping at the edges. The whole area was fenced off. Paradise, if you liked that sort of thing.
If that fox didn’t show his face there, then I’m a spineless hedgehog.
She spiralled down, then fluttered onto a branch overlooking a patch of grass where a swan, a goose and a cormorant were arguing.
‘How could you let him get away?’ the swan shouted at the cormorant, stamping his large orange foot.
‘He killed Ash! What was I s’posed to do?’ the cormorant replied.
‘Tear him apart! Like the boss ordered you to!’ the goose said.
‘He was too strong! If there had been more of us…’
The goose shook his head. ‘You couldn’t even bring back one of the otters for questioning. Not good enough, Cole.’
‘My instructions were to stop the fox, Frank. No one said nothing about the otters. Besides, they’ll be back, then we can question them. And we cut up the fox’s leg pretty bad. He won’t get far.’
‘Stop squabbling. We’ll find him,’ the swan said. ‘And there’s still the magpie. Steve said her wing was damaged. She might not have made it past the fence. I’ve got some of the team on the case. Hopefully they’ll find her body, then we can avoid the hassle of trying a land bird.’
Kara smiled. They were here. And recently. Vince might not have even made it to the bridge.
‘So, what do we do about the fox, then?’ Frank said.
‘He was heading north with the otters. I heard that they hid in the trees, where it’s too dense for most of us to fly, but someone else said they’d made it outside,’ Cole said.
‘Outside the fence? Are you sure?’ the swan said.
‘Yeah, but like I said, they’ll be back. They wouldn’t last past high-moon out there,’ Cole said.
‘The fox will, though.’ The swan frowned. ‘Injured or not, he’s an outsider. And that’s exactly why we can’t let him get too far. If he tells anyone about this place…’
‘They will be queuing up to get in, right, boss?’ Frank said.
‘What? Er, yes, exactly,’ the swan said, nodding. ‘Protecting this community is our top priority. We’ll track him down if it means chasing him halfway across the city. Frank, I want you to take three of your strongest north. Find the fox and kill him at all costs. I don’t want you back here until he’s dead, understand?’
‘Ah, erm, past the fence?’ Frank said.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Right. It’s just… We have never been, like, outside the wetlands before. You always said—’
‘Yes, well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? Unless you don’t think you’re up to it? I can get someone else, if you—’
‘No, no! I’ll do it. No problem, boss. And how do we kill him? We can’t drown him if there’s no water…’
‘I’m sure the best four members of my security team can deal with an injured fox. Ambush him. Peck his skull in. Scat on him until he suffocates. I don’t care how you do it, just do it.’
‘Ah, right. Will do, boss.’ Frank turned and ran, then launched his bulk swiftly into the air with a few precise flaps. He commanded his team below with a honk as he sailed over their heads. Within moments, three more geese joined him in the air. Kara’s workload had just lightened. Now, she just had to follow the geese and make sure they did their jobs. She could pop back
on the way home to find out what had happened to the magpie, and finish her off herself if necessary. Easy-peasy.
Kara jumped from the tree and soared over the swan and cormorant who were still talking below, then, with a casual flick of her tail, altered her path northwards. Some way from the birds, three ducks foraged in the reeds below. Circling a few times, she snatched glimpses through the patches in the tree canopy, which was enough to notice the black-and-white bird sprawled in the undergrowth a mere leap or two away from them. If the magpie wasn’t already dead, it soon would be. Perfect.
She twisted in the air, resuming her northerly course. Distance and darkness had turned the solid, uncompromising geese into tiny, black claw marks torn into the dusky sky. Climbing higher with each soft wingbeat, the breeze assisting her, Kara kept the birds firmly in sight. She would be there when they found Vince, she would watch them kill him, and then she would claim her reward from Edward without ruffling a single feather.
*
Vince veered off the path, away from the fence and the wetlands, and ran through a stand of trees. Beyond them lay a small area of neatly mown grass, then another tall fence. He scrabbled up the trunk of an overhanging tree, tiptoed along a branch, then dropped down onto the grass on the other side with a soft thud, wincing as his injured leg almost buckled beneath him. A trace scent of the vixen once again whispered at his nostrils. He shook his ears and pushed it out of his mind. No need to mark his own scent again; he wouldn’t be staying long.
Perfect rectangles of earth lay in organised rows, the odd little wooden hut dotted around. What were the rectangles for? Human-made, obviously, but looking closer he could see this was where they grew food. He needed somewhere to hide, somewhere the water birds couldn’t see him if they did decide to go beyond their borders. But if he was to survive the night, he needed something to eat. It would no doubt be a while before he would taste a frog again, so Vince prepared himself for an unappetising meal of raw vegetables or, worse, worms.
If Rita was here she’d fly off and find us something juicy.
He padded quickly through the neat patches of soil, sniffing each as he went, but there was little on offer. Row upon row of tiny shoots poked out of the earth, their leaves barely the size of ladybirds; not worth the bother of digging up. Eventually a slightly more promising patch presented itself, where green globes of cabbage and cauliflower, bigger than his own head, sat stoutly on the surface.
Ugh, gross. But there’s nothing else.
Vince checked behind him and overhead. Safe, for now. He settled down beside the largest of the cabbages and got to work, tearing off chunks of leaves with his teeth and swallowing before the bitterness could fully reach his tongue. It was hardly tasty, but it was food and it would keep him going until dawn, when he could make a break for it and hopefully lose any pursuers.
As he swallowed his third mouthful, a whiff of something deliciously salty caught the attention of his nose. Leaving the cabbage in tatters, he followed his snout to a nearby allotment, half of which was covered with small vegetable sprouts and the other half with a large pen made of wood and wire. The back of the pen housed a wooden hutch but, save for a few brown-and-white feathers, the entire thing was empty.
That’s not what I can smell.
He circled the pen, pausing at the back, where the wooden slats of the hutch were covered by long, uncut grass and thick bushes. The smell was overwhelming. Fish, perhaps? But how? Vince investigated with his snout and tentatively pawed at the ground, before finding the source of the odour. It was fish alright. Large chunks of pink-and-silver flesh lay in the grass, the edges flat and neat – clearly cut by humans. He poked a piece with his paw.
Seems alright.
There were no other animals about. At least, none that he could see or hear.
I guess some humans just leave food out for animals. Like they feed the otters in the wetlands, or the birds in their gardens.
He bit a small piece from one of the chunks and held it on his tongue for a moment before swallowing.
Not as fresh as usu al, but still good.
One by one he devoured the bitesize portions, his confidence growing with every bite. Warm and heavy in his belly, they reminded him of the balmy summer evenings spent fishing for frogs with Sophie back in Richmond Park. He smiled, almost forgetting where he was and the events of the last couple of nights.
The last few remnants of fish lay deep in the long grass, underneath the thick, waxy leaves of the bushes. Belly to the ground, he crawled towards them, nose guiding him.
As his snout reached the nearest morsel, the ground shifted and a deafening clang rang through his ears. He went to turn and run, but thick wire surrounded him on all sides, wedging him in. He reversed, but found his backside pressed against a metal door, which had slammed shut behind him.
SCAT!
A trap.
He thrashed his tail and clawed at the wire, but the cage was solid and heavy. How could he have missed it? Even camouflaged with grass and leaves, he should have seen it. The fish was bait. Of course it was. How could he have been so stupid?
He howled as loud as his raw lungs could manage. ‘RAOOOOOOOWL!’
Closing his eyes, he tried to forget that the sides of the cage were a mere paw’s width away from his snout and sides. He counted slowly to four as he drew breath into his lungs, held it for four counts, then four more as he exhaled. His mother had taught him the calming trick when he was a cub, putting it to good use after his father was killed. She’d woken him in the middle of the day, so he knew immediately something was wrong. A train, she’d said. He’d stayed out too early. The sun had been rising and the humans were up and about, their cars and trains already moving. He’d always enjoyed sunny mornings, she told Vince, watching the sunrise and exploring in the first few hours of soft daylight. The humans weren’t to blame, she said. They meant him no harm. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Vince believed her. The humans looked after them in the park, after all. They were different creatures – noisy with strange customs – but he had never had any reason to think they wished animals any ill will before.
Now, cramped in a cage hidden by a human with the sole intent of catching a fox, he realised that his life in Richmond Park had been more sheltered than he’d thought. Humans created spaces for animals – Richmond Park, the wetlands – but mostly for themselves. Edward was right. They liked to look at the deer and the otters, listen to the birds, catch rare glimpses of foxes and badgers, but only when and where it suited them. It helped them forget their indoor lives. Novelties. Out here, he was no more than a pest, waiting to be trapped. He howled helplessly once more through the bars of the cage. ‘RAOOOOOOOWL!’
In the distance, from high above, a goose bellowed across the allotments. ‘Hooooooonk!’
No. Not now.
More geese joined in as they flew closer. Three, maybe four in all. Vince craned his neck, the bars pressing deep into his head, but it wasn’t enough. He whimpered, twisting his bruised body back and forth, metal pinning him in on both sides. Panic set in. He scrabbled uselessly at the grass poking through the bars.
Had they heard his howl? Why had he done that?
The geese blared their warnings as they descended. Vince heard the rustling feathers of their outsize wings as they settled on the grass several leaps away, in the direction of his discarded cabbage. They began to speak, Vince only just able to hear but recognising two of the voices from his time on the platform.
‘I don’t like this, Frank. Not one bit,’ Roger said.
‘Listen, it’s fine. Oswald wouldn’t have sent us out here if he didn’t think it was necessary,’ Frank replied.
‘But what about all the stuff he told us about? The evil mammals? And the humans?’ another voice said.
‘It’s night-time, you idiots, there aren’t any humans around. We’re just here to kill the fox. See anything suspicious, then stay away, alright? We won’t be here long.’<
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The geese all honked in agreement.
‘Spread out, guys,’ Frank said. ‘Roger, you go that way. Donna, you go there, towards those bushes, and Jules, over there. The fox might be hiding, or he might have already gone, but look for paw prints, or see if you can smell blood or anything else that might help us track him. The sooner we kill him, the quicker we can go back home.’
The geese plodded off in different directions.
If they find me, they’ll kill me. Or leave me to die in this trap. If they don’t find me, I’ll die in this trap anyway.
To his left, a pair of flat feet trudged through the grass. Vince stiffened.
Pull yourself together. You’re a fox, you can outsmart a goose.
If he could just convince the goose to let him out, somehow…
He began to bark softly. ‘Wroof wroof! Wrrrooooof!’
‘Wha… huh?’ Donna said, stopping still.
Vince barked again, this time louder. ‘Wrrooooof!’
‘Ah!’ The goose plodded towards him.
Vince’s body was rigid with nerves.
‘Guys! I think I’ve found him!’ Donna called. ‘Get over here.’
Vince turned his ears to listen as the four birds closed in on his position. He groaned. Four of them would be a tough fight, if they even let him out. As the geese’s flapping footsteps grew closer, Vince jumped as the bushes around him rustled and a flash of dark orange slipped past in the corner of his eye. It was no goose; his nose told him that.
A silky voice addressed the birds. ‘Good evening, can I help you?’ Vince couldn’t see her, but the vixen’s scent was unmistakable. Despite its softness, her voice had an edge to it that cut deep into Vince’s gut. She had seen him. She was helping him. She had to be.
‘Keep your distance, everyone. I’ll deal with this,’ Frank said, as if the vixen wasn’t there, before replying to her. ‘Ah, erm, good evening. We’re looking for a fox actually. Male. He has a wound on his leg. My colleague here must have, ah, mistaken you for him.’