The Runaway Children: Flight from the Nunjas

By Jacy Brean

Prepare yourself for a roller coaster run of thrilling adventures with the Hadwin children and their friend Odi. After their parents are cruelly spirited away by sinister men in Macs, the youngsters find themselves at the mercy of some very unpleasant characters – such as the nasty nunjas, rampant crocodiles and ultimately, Elymas, the most evil man in the world! Fortunately, Alice, Miles, Joe and Odi make a lot of friends on their journey, starting with the tree people who come to the rescue when the younger children are imprisoned by the nunjas, members of a weird sisterhood dedicated to Elymas and his image - a three-headed snake. Only one man can explain why the children have to keep on running, and only young Joe can bring the nightmare to an end when he faces the greatest test of all. This first part of the trilogy shows how the runaways escape from Elymas’ henchmen, the nunjas and the Babel retreat. .

• Language: English
• Publisher: AUK Kids
• Release date: Jun 19, 2014
• ISBN: 9781849896368

Jacy Brean

Born in Stockport, Jacy Brean now lives in the heart of Derbyshire's High Peak. one of the UK's most popular destinations for walkers, hang-gliders, and people who love beautiful scenery. She has one daughter and an army of nephews and nieces.

Book preview

happening.

Chapter 1

Emerging from Hillside Primary School, Miles Hadwin took a huge gulp of sweet spring air, his body poised like an unchained cheetah ready to pounce. Even before his feet touched the tarmac, he lurched into a record-breaking sprint, legs stretching effortlessly towards his home and a longed-for visit from Uncle Jeff.

Wait for me! His younger brother Joe yelled in frustration at being left standing yet again. Miles! Miles! No use. Miles was already disappearing from view.

I’ll tell Mum! But the threat went unheeded, with Miles merely wondering why Joe didn’t save his breath for more important things. If he’d only stop bawling for two minutes, he’d be able to run an awful lot faster he thought and, after flipping over a dry stone wall, he hurtled across Mr Barber’s hay field, relishing the feathered grasses lashing against his legs, and the sharp wind that brought redness to his cheeks and filled his lungs with power. In fact, had he not been so excited about seeing his favourite uncle, he’d have run around the field a couple of times for the sheer exhilaration of it.

Uncle Jeff wasn’t really his uncle, but always treated the Hadwin family as his own, rarely visiting without a gift for each of them - unusual, intriguing objects from his many travels abroad. He’d take the boys on long explorations of the rugged Pennine moors, teaching them about animals and plants, how to light fires, build shelters and generally survive in hostile conditions. There’d be thrilling accounts of adventures in mysterious lands, and even Miles’ fourteen year old sister Alice (Miss I‘m-2-Cool), was secretly just as fascinated by his tales, although she’d rather die than admit it! Not that he looked that fascinating, mind, what with his nerdy specs, nerdy anorak and nerdy hair, which twirled upwards alarmingly like an over-whipped ice-cream cone. He also sported, much to everyone’s horror, corduroy trousers with knees that bagged and zero ratings in the style stakes. Poor Uncle Jeff. No matter how amazing his stories, he still came over as being, in Alice’s words, terminally sad - a pitiful, lonely eccentric whose idea of a fun time was an afternoon’s train spotting. As a result, and much as they enjoyed listening, the children had come to take much of what he told them with a large pinch of salt.

However, he did have one other saving grace. He was an absolute wizard with computers which came in handy when the Hadwins needed help with homework and almost made up for his many shortcomings.

Vaguely, as he galloped through the field, Miles wondered why his Uncle hadn’t come to meet them as he normally did, arriving in his immaculately preserved Morris Minor - a car Alice felt was the most offensive vehicle ever to set its tyres onto the road.

Please! she’d beg. Please don’t bother to pick me up from school, Uncle Jeff. It’s so-o-o difficult to park, and I wouldn’t want to bother you. She’d say it politely so as not to hurt his feelings, but he was far too insensitive to realise how mortifying it was for her to see him waiting at the High School gate. Or worse - tooting his horn! Or, the worst thing ever! - trundling round in this monstrosity with the roof down, so that he could stand up, waving both arms like a windmill and, just in case any of her schoolmates might still not have noticed him, yelling her name at the top of his voice.

Then, of course, there’d be the embarrassment of picking up the boys from Hillside Primary. It’s on our way he’d reason, and he’d rev his engine so that everybody stared, and Alice would shrink down as far as her seatbelt would allow until only the crown of her fashionably tousled blonde hair could be glimpsed above the dashboard.

How Miles loved to race with Uncle Jeff! Yippee! he’d cry at the sound of an exhaust exploding half a mile away and, when he and Joe finally saw the familiar duck-egg coloured Morris chugging merrily towards them, both boys began to run.

Bet I’ll beat you this time! Miles would yell, and he’d shoot out of the schoolyard, whizz through the gate and zoom along the pavement at full pelt, Joe straggling behind as always, his Uncle tooting his horn and Alice praying that no-one could see her.

Come on Miles! bellowed Uncle Jeff, his fist pumping the air encouragingly, You’re very slow today. What’s up? Too many pizzas?! But alas, there was no such sport today.

I wonder if he’s arrived yet, thought Miles as he approached the far end of the hay field and the Lawsons’ back fence. Pausing only to take another deep breath, he began to sprint towards it, gathering speed before springing upwards and, despite its six foot height, vaulting over the top of it with inches to spare.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t reckoned on Mrs Lawson weeding her borders on the other side of the fence, and he landed in an undignified heap on top of her. To say she was none too please to see him was an understatement, not that she caught more than a flash of his vanishing form, as, with a cheery Sorry! he fled up the driveway, his satchel flapping frantically in his wake.

You will be, you little brat, if I lay hands on you! Mrs Lawson bawled. Goodness, everyone was shouting at him today. What have I told you about coming through here!? Hooligan!

Sorry Miles repeated, but kept on running all the same, through the new estate, across the main village road, and virtually to his own back door before Mrs Lawson could add the worst threat she could think of, I’ll tell your mother!

Joe arrived 10 minutes later and threw his schoolbag on the kitchen floor, exhausted and cross at being left behind once again. It’s not fair! he moaned, Miles wouldn’t wait - AND he went through that lady’s garden when he’s not supposed! But nobody was listening. As always, it seemed to him, they were far too busy telling Miles how wonderful he was. Everybody thought Miles was wonderful, no matter what he did.

Hi Joe! Uncle Jeff waved breezily at him, the only person in the room who even noticed his existence. In answer, Joe forced a weak smile before turning to glare at Miles, which he continued to do, without interruption, until well after tea.

Over their Spaghetti Bolognese, Miles and Alice fired questions at the visitor who did his best to reply, along with a great deal of joshing and leg-pulling, and yet, Miles sensed that all was not quite right with Uncle Jeff. There were no presents, no tinkering with the computer, and no promise to take them a walk. It was just a flying visit he said and, instead of his usual twinkle, there was tiredness behind his thick spectacles. He laughed with them, of course, and kept everyone highly amused with his stories, but somehow, the banter was not up to scratch, forced almost, as though his mind was elsewhere. Then, when their father, Richard, finally arrived, the atmosphere changed even more drastically, like a cold blast entering the home.

So, what’s the panic….? said Dad, not even waiting to remove his coat.

Uncle Jeff frowned and jerked his head briefly towards the children. Later, he said. We need a serious talk.

What do you suppose he want to talk about? mused Miles after the dishes had been washed and homework had begun. The adults had withdrawn to the front room, something they never usually did when Uncle Jeff was there.

Am I psychic? Alice replied with her usual sarcasm. And even if I knew, I certainly wouldn’t tell you! Don’t be so nosy, Miles!

But aren’t you the least bit curious?! Miles persisted.

No came the reply and, with that, she clamped on her headphones and started jerking and twitching to the latest hip-hop hopefuls and a rhythm no one else could hear.

And she thinks I’m embarrassing! thought Miles and went back to chewing his pencil, realising that, like all good spies, he’d have to work alone.

Later that night, Miles huddled down beneath his duvet with a book and torch to keep himself occupied, waiting for Alice to lock herself in the bathroom and for Joe to start snoring softly. Then, when all was quiet, he crept downstairs, taking care to avoid the stair that creaked and, even before he reached the bottom, he could sense there was something very strange going on.

On previous visits, the grown-ups would be laughing, swapping jokes and reminiscing about their university days - but this time it was different. Although unable to hear exactly what was said, Miles could sense the strained atmosphere behind the closed dining room door. He knelt down so that he could press his ear to the keyhole, desperately trying to get the gist of the conversation but only able to make out the odd snatched sentence when somebody raised a voice. The first to do so was his Uncle Jeff, speaking in rapid, urgent tones:

I’m telling you, there’s no time to lose! You’ve got to get away from here before it‘s too late!

There was a short silence, then Miles caught the odd word of his parents trying to stay calm, words like ‘rational’ and ‘exaggerating’ and ‘overreacting’.

Uncle Jeff waited for their objections to finish before once again stressing the seriousness of the situation. Quite what that situation was, of course, Miles hadn’t a clue. All he knew was that something pretty important was happening and his parents seemed to be in some sort of danger.

Come on, Jeff said Miles’ father, trying to lighten the mood, This is us, remember? Jennifer and Richard Hadwin - a part-time social worker and a sixth form science teacher! The whole idea’s completely absurd!

His wife picked up on this self-mockery. Yes, we’ve three kids and we’re on the PTA, for goodness sake! Who on earth cares about two middle-aged nobodies like us!

Elymas replied Jeff quietly. There was a long silence and the name hung heavily in the air.

When at last his mother spoke, Miles could almost feel her tension. I thought we agreed never to mention that name! she snapped.

Elymas is back Uncle Jeff persisted. Back with a vengeance. More powerful and more determined than ever!

Listen, Jeff…. Richard Hadwin began.

No, you listen! cried Jeff; I haven’t flown half-way across the world to talk about the weather! I’m here to warn you, to beg you - Get out! Take the kids and go! Now! Tonight! Before it‘s too late!

But his words fell on deaf ears. Actually, I’m a little bored with this conversation, said Jennifer Hadwin briskly and, to Miles great relief, she seemed to have dismissed Uncle Jeff’s foreboding. Would anyone like another cup of tea?

Please Jennifer, if you care anything about your children….

At this, she turned on him in fury, How dare you accuse me of not caring…?! she began and, but for her husband’s hurried intervention, would have torn quite a strip off Uncle Jeff while, on the other side of the door, Miles winced in expectation. Now he’s for it he whispered to himself.

Let’s calm down, shall we? Richard Hadwin suggested, and put up a hand to silence his guest before there was any further unpleasantness. I won’t have all this negativity - No, Jeff, I want you to stop this now! All you’re doing is raking up some nasty memories and spoiling a nice evening for everybody else.

You don’t understand a word I’ve said, do you? said Jeff, shaking his head with astonishment. By way of answer, Richard put an arm round Jeff’s shoulder in that patronising ‘there, there’ sort of way he had when somebody was talking nonsense.

You’re our friend and you’ll always be welcome here. But you’ve got to let the past lie!

I’m talking about your future! groaned Jeff which is something none of us will have unless you listen.

Jeff, it’s over. We live in a democracy Richard Hadwin said, as though speaking to one of his slower pupils, and whilst I appreciate your concern, what happened was a very long time ago….. His tone was cool and even, but Miles could sense his father’s growing impatience.

You don’t believe me, do you? Jeff exclaimed, You just don’t realise the danger you’re in!

I believe, said Mr Hadwin, that it’s been a long day and now it’s time for bed. And he opened the door for his guest to walk through, barely leaving Miles enough time to leap behind the coats hung up in the hallway.

So there’s nothing I can say to persuade you? asked Jeff, as he reached down for his rucksack. You’re just going to ignore everything I’ve told you?

Don’t take it to heart said Miles’ father kindly. We’ll have another chat next time you visit – by which time, of course, you’ll wonder what on earth you were so worried about.

If you‘re still here! Uncle Jeff replied gruffly but, deciding there was nothing more to add, stepped out into the night.

Miles couldn’t let him disappear without saying goodbye! As soon as his father had returned to the dining room, the boy flung himself through the front door and set off after Jeff.

Uncle Jeff! Wait! Jeff turned to see Miles racing up the road behind him, in his fleecy blue pyjamas. Despite the drama of the situation, Uncle Jeff laughed and for one brief moment seemed to be his usual jolly self.

"So it was you behind the overcoats. I thought I recognised those Sasquatch