Dave Trellis and the Allotments of Doom by S.B. Davies Page A

open, but before you
all rush off, please give a huge round of applause for the Palaver
Players and their version of The Mikado.
    ‘Hey big man,
break a leg,’ said Fergus.
    ‘Who’s you
suggest Rugby Boy?’ said Enoch and headed for the stage.
    Fergus watched
the performance and despite the enormous height of the three little
girls from school, the mincing was perfect. Strange to hear those
famous songs in a deep baritone, yet the crowd loved it and
applauded long and loud.
    After the show
Fergus tried to mingle. He chatted to a few of the other guests,
but really he wanted to see Boadicea and she was still backstage.
He sat on the veranda nursing a pint of bitter and watched the
party.
     
     
    ‘Hey Rugby Boy,
hear you helping out. Good. Dave needs company,’ said Enoch and sat
in the chair next to Fergus.
    ‘Why? He seems
fine to me and I still don’t understand this entire flag at
half-mast stuff.’
    ‘That why I
here. You think I want company? I show you.’ Enoch reached over and
stuck a thin, flat disk on Fergus’s forehead. ‘Is recording, very
real, don’t be little girl.’
    The party
disappeared and Fergus felt disorientated. His point of view
changed and the party around him was a different one. Fergus
realised this was Enoch’s recording; it was incredibly real.

     
    Dave
stood holding a glass and Enoch walked up.
    ‘ Yes
what is it Enoch?’ said Dave.
    ‘ Something not invited,’ said Enoch, ‘Better look.’
    ‘ It’s about time we got that thing fitted with an
alarm.’
    A
sudden scream, the recording pitched sideway and the view obscured
by a brown shape with many legs. A crunching sound and the view
retuned. On the ground was a broken shape that looked a lot like a
spider with six legs. It was four foot across.
    Suddenly brown spiders were leaping everywhere, people lay on
the ground, and there was blood on the lawn.
    ‘ Close the portcullis, don’t let them escape,’ shouted Dave
and two Palaver leapt towards the barbican.
    A
defensive line formed with tables turned on their sides and people
brandishing chairs. The Palaver, each with a huge broadsword leapt
about repelling the attack. There were hundreds of spiders, leaping
twenty feet and more to bite and slash at their victims. They just
kept coming, pressing the defenders hard.
    ‘ Get
in the pavilion,’ yelled Dave, ‘No, not you, you clod, you’ve got a
sword get out there and kill them.’
    Dave
herded the unarmed and the injured into the pavilion, as Enoch and
the Palaver defended desperately, slicing attacking spiders into a
slimy, crunchy mess on the lawn.
    Suddenly there was barking dogs everywhere; dogs leaping to
catch a spider and rip off its legs with powerful shakes; dogs
slamming down paws first on crouching spiders. Enoch leaping in
great bounds, slicing spiders left and right, dodging dogs and
laughing.
    ‘ Keep them out of the bloody catacombs,’ shouted Dave and six
dogs charged through the hoard of spiders to protect the
entrance.
    Soon
the remaining spiders retreated to the courtyard below, the initial
surprise attack repulsed.
    ‘ Enoch,’ shouted Dave, ‘Form a defensive perimeter and try to
find some weapons.’
    ‘ Ok
Dave, but no weapons, this dress uniform, not combat.’
    ‘ What’s that in your bloody hand, a cheese
sandwich?’
    ‘ Oh
swords, we got swords.’
    Enoch
grinned, reached behind his head and started pulling out swords. A
sabre, a katana, a cutlass, three broadswords of different lengths
and a claymore. Similar piles appeared next to the other
Palaver.
    Soon a
solid defence faced the milling crowd of spiders with an outer
perimeter of Palaver holding two swords each, with a dog beside
them and an inner ring of humans.
    The
courtyard glowed green.
    ‘ Good news Dave, re-enforcements,’ shouted Enoch and
grinned.
    Suddenly the courtyard was filled to the brim with spiders,
all churning and milling as they climbed over each other. There
were thousands of them.
    ‘ Oh
bugger,’