Caw backed away, letting his feet take him towards the other end of the alley. He felt trapped. The crows were right – he should never have interfered.
“Hey! You’re not going anywhere, young man!” said Mr Strickham. “I need a statement.”
Caw turned and ran. His ears picked up the sound of dogs barking again, not far off. He heard another crackle of a radio. He had to get back to the nest.
“Come back!” said Mr Strickham.
“At least tell us your name!” the girl shouted after him.
Caw reached the street, and saw cops running towards him.
Up here! Screech called.
Caw glanced up and saw the three crows perched on a chain-link fence twenty metres away, where the street ran to a dead end. One of Screech’s legs looked crooked, as though it was broken. He’s hurt, thought Caw. He’s hurt because of me.
There was a patch of wasteland beyond. The old railway station. Caw ran towards the fence.
Arcs of torchlight picked out his body and several voices yelled at him to stop.
He leapt on to the metal mesh, and swung his legs over the top, landing on the other side. When he looked back, he saw a dozen officers coming towards him, with three or four dogs. Lydia and her father were there too.
Caw slid down the embankment and out of sight.
“Hold it!” cried the Warden.
No way, thought Caw. He ran, and he didn’t stop until he’d doubled back to reach the park again. He peered at both ends of the street, making sure that no one was watching, then climbed over the gate. As he scrambled over, one of his flapping shoes came loose and fell to the street. No time to go back for it. He jumped down to the other side.
Finally, his pumping blood began to calm. He was safe here in the shadows. Home.
He walked slowly back to his tree, limping a little on one bare foot.
Well, that was fun! said Glum sarcastically, already in the nest as Caw clambered up.
Did you see me? said Screech. The way I got him? He hopped up and down, mimicking his actions. Peck! Scratch! Claw!
Caw heaved himself on to his bed and lay on his back, letting the sweat cool on his body. He suddenly felt very tired indeed.
I was pretty brave, right? said Screech.
“You were both incredible,” Caw told them.
Milky was perched at the side of the nest, looking completely unruffled. He hadn’t joined in the fighting. His blind eyes stared in Caw’s direction.
“What’s going on, Milky?” asked Caw. “Who were those prisoners?”
The old white crow was silent and still as a marble statue.
I think he’s done talking, said Glum.
“The spider,” said Caw. “I dreamed it. And then it was there in real life, on that prisoner’s chest. You know what it means, don’t you?”
Milky cocked his head and turned away.
“What’s going on?” he said.
Get away! yelped Screech, flapping madly. Intruder!
Adrenaline flooded through Caw’s body and he sat up, reaching for a weapon. He managed to find a cracked plastic spoon, just in time to see a head poking up through the hatch.
“Wow!” said Lydia, resting her hands on the timbers of the nest. “This place is amazing! It’s way bigger than it looks from down there.”
Caw pressed himself into a corner, clutching the spoon in front of him like a knife. She was wearing a baseball cap, which made her red hair fall straight, curling under her chin. In the light of day, he realised she had a smattering of freckles he hadn’t seen the night before. Her eyes shone.
“Hey! Don’t point that thing at me!” she said.
“How did you find me?” Caw demanded. “No one knows about this place!”
Lydia beamed with pride. “I’m good at sniffing things out,” she said. “I’ve seen you sneaking around by our place before, watching us from the wall next to our house. So I figured you must live around here somewhere. And when I was out walking Benjy this morning, I found this by the park gate.”
Lydia dropped Caw’s shoe on the floor of the nest.
“I reckoned the park would be a perfect place to go if you didn’t want to be found. So I hopped over the gate and searched until I saw this funny thing stuck up in a tree. Not bad, huh?”
Suddenly Caw felt silly. But he was too embarrassed to lower the spoon.
“What are you doing here?” he said.
Lydia smiled. “I could ask you the same question. Don’t you have a home? Don’t you have parents?”
Caw shrugged. “I live here,” he said. “Just me.”
“Cool!” she said. “Are you going to invite me in?”
Caw glanced at Glum. Don’t even think about it, said the crow, puffing out his chest.
“No,” said Caw.
“Oh, come on!” she said. “Pretty please?”
Give her a little shove, said Screech. The young crow hopped forward menacingly, then skipped back again.
“No!” said Caw. “Leave me alone!”
The girl’s face fell. “All right, all right,” she said. “Chill out. Just give me a second to catch my breath, OK? Then I’ll go.”
As she tucked a lock of hair back into her cap, still with her head and shoulders poking into the nest, Caw’s fear evaporated. She was just a girl. What harm could she do?
Lydia blew out her cheeks. “OK. I’ll leave,” she said.
“Wait!” said Caw. He glanced at the crows then sighed. “You can come in for a bit,” he mumbled.
No! said the crows in unison. Caw lowered the spoon.
“Phew!” she said, grinning. “You could really have hurt me with that.”
Caw couldn’t help smiling, despite himself.
The girl scrambled up into the nest and settled cross-legged on the platform. She was wearing jeans and a pale hooded top, streaked with leaves and dirt. She took off her cap and shook her hair free, watching Screech and Glum with a look of puzzlement. Milky would be outside, Caw knew – he never slept in the nest.
“So these birds are your pets?” she said.
I am not a pet! said Glum.
And I’m not just any bird! protested Screech. I’m a crow.
“Sort of,” said Caw.
Sort of? said Glum and Screech together. Lydia jerked back a little. Caw realised that to her it sounded like two angry squawks.
“They live with me,” he said.
“Did you train them?”
Screech