Watchers were emerging from everywhere to give chase. The pair were sprinting through the sleeping plants when Violet tumbled roughly to the ground. One of the creatures had wrapped itself round her leg. Boy tried to pull his friend free but the eyeball wouldn’t let go. The Watchers were almost upon them when he grabbed the stem and ripped. Blood gushed out from the severed vein in all directions. Quickly Boy shoved the plant into his pocket and helped Violet from the grass.
Suddenly a terrifying noise cut through the night like a thousand wailing cats. The once sleeping flowers pulled back their petals and shrieked into the mist. Shaking in a manic frenzy they threw themselves at Boy and Violet as they raced passed. Barely escaping the park, the pair dashed by a large billboard of a happy family marking the entrance to the Ghost Estate. They were now in a world of narrow streets, the Watchers just behind.
“Where are we?” Violet panted.
“We’re in No Mans Land,” Boy said, as they raced down a laneway, “it’s the furthest edges.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Violet asked breathless as they shot down another alley, the Watchers still on their tail.
“No!”
Suddenly she caught sight of a street sign. Wickham Terrace; she knew the name but from where?
“Down here,” she said.
The Watchers feet pounded just behind the last bend. There was an old shop sign hanging out on the street: “Prescription Optical Makers.”
“In here,” Violet said, forcing open the door.
They closed it gently and rested with their backs to the worn wood as the Watchers darted by outside oblivious to their hiding place.
“Where are we?” Boy whispered.
“I’m not sure,” Violet shrugged, just as a light lit up the shop.
“Who goes there?” someone said from the shadows.
“We don’t mean you any harm,” Violet insisted, “we were being chased and…”
“Where did you get those?” the man croaked, his voice was dusty as if it hadn’t been used in while.
Violet looked at Boy who shrugged.
“Answer me!” the man snapped.
“Where did I get what?” Violet replied, her voice now shaky too.
“Your glasses, where did you get them?”
“I found them.”
“Don’t lie to me girl. Where did you get them?”
“I found them, I promise. They were under my mattress. Here you can have them,” she said, taking the frames from her face and walking with her arm outstretched.
The man moved forward and grabbed the glasses from her grasp.
“How did they get under your mattress?” he said, stepping out from the shadows, “I think you’re telling fibs little girl. The last time I saw these they were in the hands of my brother.”
“You’re…you’re…you’re William Archer,” Violet stammered.
Boy looked at his friend as if she had ten heads.
“And you are?” the man continued.
“Violet, Violet Brown,” she stuttered, “and this is my friend Boy.”
CHAPTER 21
William Archer
William Archer was a tall man though not as tall as George, he was also a wide man though not as wide as Edward and this combination meant he was completely in proportion. He was unkempt, dirty and looked like he’d spent a thousand years in his clothes. His hair was long and streaked in tones of grey. His beard was long too and he wore both beard and hair wrapped like a scarf round his neck. He had a kind face and as he emerged from the shadows it was almost impossible not to stare at his eyes. One was dark almost black while the other was a cold blue like an icy winter’s morning. Violet’s Dad had told her that some people were born with different coloured eyes but William was the first one she’d met.
A cluttered table rested by the front window and William cleared it off before calling over the pair. Violet sat down on one side and Boy on the other. The window was caked in dirt, which was safer, surely the Watchers couldn’t see in.
“Excuse the mess,” William Archer coughed, “I haven’t
Suddenly a terrifying noise cut through the night like a thousand wailing cats. The once sleeping flowers pulled back their petals and shrieked into the mist. Shaking in a manic frenzy they threw themselves at Boy and Violet as they raced passed. Barely escaping the park, the pair dashed by a large billboard of a happy family marking the entrance to the Ghost Estate. They were now in a world of narrow streets, the Watchers just behind.
“Where are we?” Violet panted.
“We’re in No Mans Land,” Boy said, as they raced down a laneway, “it’s the furthest edges.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Violet asked breathless as they shot down another alley, the Watchers still on their tail.
“No!”
Suddenly she caught sight of a street sign. Wickham Terrace; she knew the name but from where?
“Down here,” she said.
The Watchers feet pounded just behind the last bend. There was an old shop sign hanging out on the street: “Prescription Optical Makers.”
“In here,” Violet said, forcing open the door.
They closed it gently and rested with their backs to the worn wood as the Watchers darted by outside oblivious to their hiding place.
“Where are we?” Boy whispered.
“I’m not sure,” Violet shrugged, just as a light lit up the shop.
“Who goes there?” someone said from the shadows.
“We don’t mean you any harm,” Violet insisted, “we were being chased and…”
“Where did you get those?” the man croaked, his voice was dusty as if it hadn’t been used in while.
Violet looked at Boy who shrugged.
“Answer me!” the man snapped.
“Where did I get what?” Violet replied, her voice now shaky too.
“Your glasses, where did you get them?”
“I found them.”
“Don’t lie to me girl. Where did you get them?”
“I found them, I promise. They were under my mattress. Here you can have them,” she said, taking the frames from her face and walking with her arm outstretched.
The man moved forward and grabbed the glasses from her grasp.
“How did they get under your mattress?” he said, stepping out from the shadows, “I think you’re telling fibs little girl. The last time I saw these they were in the hands of my brother.”
“You’re…you’re…you’re William Archer,” Violet stammered.
Boy looked at his friend as if she had ten heads.
“And you are?” the man continued.
“Violet, Violet Brown,” she stuttered, “and this is my friend Boy.”
CHAPTER 21
William Archer
William Archer was a tall man though not as tall as George, he was also a wide man though not as wide as Edward and this combination meant he was completely in proportion. He was unkempt, dirty and looked like he’d spent a thousand years in his clothes. His hair was long and streaked in tones of grey. His beard was long too and he wore both beard and hair wrapped like a scarf round his neck. He had a kind face and as he emerged from the shadows it was almost impossible not to stare at his eyes. One was dark almost black while the other was a cold blue like an icy winter’s morning. Violet’s Dad had told her that some people were born with different coloured eyes but William was the first one she’d met.
A cluttered table rested by the front window and William cleared it off before calling over the pair. Violet sat down on one side and Boy on the other. The window was caked in dirt, which was safer, surely the Watchers couldn’t see in.
“Excuse the mess,” William Archer coughed, “I haven’t
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