Black Tide by Caroline Clough

shoulders, Toby could see that these were different men from the others. They looked better equipped and even in the shadowy light thrown from the barracks, he could make out that they were fitter, cleaner and were wearing smart navy-blue uniforms.
    Are these the chosen ones? Do they have the same tattoo as the Captain ?he wondered, as he dragged his feet slowly over the pebbled courtyard, trying hard to get a better look.
    “Hurry up, kid!” his captor snarled, shoving Toby with his hand.
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m hurrying,” replied Toby. They seemed to be headed for the far courtyard where the church stood.
    For the first time that day, Toby felt his heart lift a little. If he was put in the church, he knew exactly what he was going to do.
    “You’re not going to lock me in the church are you?” Toby asked the man, feigning fright.
    “Yeah, serve you right if the ghosties get you, you smelly brat!” the man snapped back, pushing Toby hard into the church porch and through the door, which he then locked. “And don’t get any ideas about escaping or else this time I’ll personally feed you to the dogs!”
    Toby stood in the quietness of the church aisle and waited. It wouldn’t be wise to go straight to the trapdoor in case the man came back.
    After a few minutes had passed, he groped his way in the dark down the aisle of pews to the back of the church, and pulled across the curtain to reveal the vestry door.
    I hope that Tash got back ok. I’m starving – wonder what she’s got in her store for dinner?
    He felt good and warm with the expectation of something hot to eat, in a safe place where he could relax, at least for a short while. His brain felt like it was spinning out of control. He needed some time to sort out what had happened and to formulate a plan.
    If I can just lie down for a little while and have a nap, then I’ll feel better. I must think about my mission. I must get going and find where Dad and Sylvie are being held. I must — What? What’s wrong with this door?
    Toby rammed the handle to the vestry door hard down, but it didn’t budge.
    “What’s going on?” he cried, leaning all his weight onto the door handle.
    I don’t believe it. The door’s locked. What was Tash thinking of? She’s gone and locked me out.

8. The Invasion
    Toby leant against the door and slumped to the floor, burying his head in his hands. The last two days had been so hard, leaving him feeling like a limp teddy someone had pulled all the stuffing out of. Every time he thought he was getting a step nearer his dad and Sylvie, something bad happened.
    The biggest mistake I made was believing that Tash was a friend and was going to help me. Going with her has only made the situation worse with the raiders. Now they hate me and I’m still being held captive. I might as well have stayed in that prison.
    Toby knew that this was harsh, after all Tash had shown him her den and fed him a good meal. But then she had run off leaving him to face the angry raiders alone.
    I must trust no one from now on. I’m better off on my own.
    Toby wiped his snotty nose on the cuff of his jacket and pulled himself slowly to standing. His bruises still ached. He put his hand to the back of his head to feel how the lump was faring. Dried blood clumped around the large egg-shaped bump on his skull.
    Good one, that! Wait till I show it to Sylvie. She’ll be dead impressed… if I ever find her.
    Toby froze. He had heard a noise – a sharp intake of breath, like a… like a dog sniffing the air? He pulled back the curtain and stared down into the darkness of the church aisle, the hairs on his head prickling with apprehension. Something rustled in the blackness of the altar area at the other end of the church. It was crawling down the aisle towards him. He could hear its shallow breathing, and a scratchy scraping noise of claws on the smooth tiled floor. Whatever it was, it was getting nearer and nearer.
    Toby pushed himself back as far as he