The Warrior Sheep Go West Read Online Free PDF Page B

stooped and swiftly grabbed up the rope trailing from Sal’s and Oxo’s necks. She hauled them back, the noose tightening around their throats, making them choke and cough again.
    â€œ I’ll say when we leave,” she told them, stepping back farther to gain a better hold.
    Then a strange, undignified thing happened. Her feet slid from under her and continued to slide, no matter how hard she tried to stay upright. It was like running uphill backward on roller skates. It didn’t work. And after a few seconds, she was flat on her back. She clung on to the rope but her bottom was sliding now as well as her feet.
    In the moment before she collided painfully with the wall and lost her grip on the rope, Holly was sure she glimpsed the skinny brown lamb standing beside the feed bin. The bin was lying on its side now, its load of feed nuts bouncing across the floor like a thousand organic marbles. Surely he couldn’t have turned it over! What’s more, she thought she saw the lamb clacking front hooves with the curly-haired ram. She certainly saw him scamper across to where Stanley’s chosen sheep were trying to get through the door at the same time. The skinny brown lamb—the one her husband had dismissed as stupid—trod on the noose so that the captives could back their heads out of the circle of rope as it slackened.
    Then they were all gone and Holly was left with nothing but a large headache. She stumbled to her feet, kicking feed nuts in all directions, and rushed outside. The desert beyond the fence appeared entirely sheep-less. She heard a sound and spun round. Don, the pilot, was walking quickly toward the plane. Jo had already shut the passenger door.
    â€œMy sheep have escaped!” cried Holly, running after the pilot. “You’ve got to help me get them back!”
    Don turned briefly and frowned at her.
    â€œSheep?” he said. “What sheep?”

7
    Chased Down
    Tod and Gran were standing beside the car, gazing at the stark landscape beyond the chain-link fence, when Stanley returned.
    â€œUh…sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, picking hay from his jacket. “It was the uh…”
    â€œFormalities?” offered Gran.
    â€œSure.” Their host nodded. “The formalities.”
    â€œAre our sheep OK?” asked Tod.
    â€œThey’re being loaded right now,” said Stanley.
    Reassured, Tod and Gran clambered back into the luxury of the biggest car they had ever seen. The sun continued to rise behind them as their host drove from the parking lot and on to the straight, empty road. There were no houses, no trees, no people—just barren flatness. It was only broken by great slabs of mountain in the distance, rising in sheer cliffs that were blood-red in color, turning to orange as the sky above hardened to bright blue.
    â€œBeautiful, isn’t it?” whispered Tod.
    â€œAmazing,” agreed Gran. She squeezed his hand and giggled. “A bit different from Eppingham.”
    â€œI wonder where the conference center is,” Tod said. “Shall I ask?”
    Gran nodded, but before Tod had a chance to speak, the car jolted to a halt and they were thrown forward by the abrupt stop.
    â€œWe’ve what?” they heard the Professor snap into his cell phone.
    They couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but Stanley could. His wife’s voice was loud and clear.
    â€œWe’ve lost the sheep,” she repeated, sharply. “Act like nothing’s wrong. Keep driving.”
    Tod and Ida were thrown backward as the car lurched on again.
    â€œThe idiot pilot wouldn’t help me catch them,” Holly continued. “Anyway, I haven’t exactly lost them. I’m on their trail. Keep going until you hear from me again. And be charming to our guests. Distract them. Point out all the interesting things you pass.”
    â€œWe’re in a desert,” said the Professor. “There