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Becky stretched and rubbed her eyes. Passengers were slowly moving in the darkness, while others remained slumped in their seats. Uncrossing her legs and inhaling, she stood-up and pushed past locals, stepping off the bus and headed towards the shed.
Zipper had been dozing, his straps dangling through the baggage rungs when strong hands seized him, and a stranger slipped him onto his back. ‘Put me down, you foul smelling thing,’ but the human ignored him.
Escapade
The human straddled a bicycle and absconded into semi-darkness. The chain creaked as he peddled vigorously. Zipper bounced against his back as they detoured from the road to a grassy embankment. Cold air engulfed the backpack, now he was fully awake. He shivered, wondering about his safety. Blot would know what to do. He was the scholar, the practical one. Think, think. Zipper recited his mantra, the three B’s, ‘I am bold, brave and brilliant.’
Shadows disappeared as hues of orange and gold illuminated the sky. They travelled along a worn track under a canopy of trees with elongated trunks and feathery foliage. Serrated fronds carpeted the forest floor.
After half an hour they approached a village with cobbled footpaths and houses with flat roofs. The man trudged on to an isolated spot in the forest, then slipped into a back entrance of a large building, descending to a cellar. Zipper was surrounded by three squat, toffee-skinned humans with black hair. The leader had stained teeth and wide-set eyes. He waved his arms as he gabbled foreign words.
Blackened fingers unzipped Zipper and Becky’s belongings were ransacked. The locals laughed as their leader held up a jersey dress against his body. He tore apart her beauty case and opened bottles and jars, sniffing and slapping lotions onto sinewy arms.
