Felix Jones And The Book Of Words (A Felix Jones Adventure 1) Read online

  Felix Jones

  And

  The Book

  Of

  Words

  A Felix Jones Adventure

  Julian Roderick

  Copyright © 2015 Julian Roderick

  KINDLE Edition

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored, in any form or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  PublishNation, London

  www.publishnation.co.uk

  For Tom and Matt who wanted an adventure!

  Thank you to Victoria for listening when she would rather be watching stuff about vampires.

  Huge thanks to my little sister Claire for reading these stories first and, as always, being annoyingly right with her suggestions!

  1

  Thick black smoke engulfed the far end of the school field like a heavy woollen blanket. Queen Anne’s School had been an oasis of calm amongst the hustle and bustle of London life since 1705. The old red brick buildings sat surrounded by acres of green fields and small woods. This was definitely not about to be a day like any other. This Geography lesson wasn’t going to end with one of The Sheriff’s usual corny jokes from the last century.

  The Sheriff, whose real name was Mr Law, had taught Geography at Queen Anne’s School since, well, no one could remember. He had taught Felix’s father, and Felix’s grandfather, and he still used the same lessons and jokes. He was a giant of a man, well over six foot tall, with a grey droopy moustache and a mop of silver curly hair. He wore the same clothes every day, grey trousers, scruffy brown shoes, a white shirt and a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches. The only thing that changed was his tie! All the students thought he lived in the large store cupboard at the front of G11, his Geography Room, where no person, not even the Headmaster, dared to tread.

  Whenever a student asked a question The Sheriff would smile and with his loud booming voice announce, “Let’s consult the book of words.” He would disappear into his storeroom for a few moments before reappearing and entertaining the class, enthralling them with his knowledge and explanation. Even when things broke down, cars, projectors, computers, you would hear, “Let’s consult the book of words.” After disappearing round a corner he would return and fix the problem with ease. Everyone thought the book of words was his old fashioned way of saying text book or instruction booklet. Today Felix would find out the truth.

  The large explosion near the school had stopped the lesson dead in its tracks. The whole class clambered over the wooden desks and chairs to stare out of the windows at the back of the room. They had a fantastic view from the first floor through the floor to ceiling windows that led to a small balcony. The blazing inferno engulfed the large detached house on the edge of the school field that had been empty for as long as the students could remember. The thick black smoke rolled across the muddy pitches towards the captivated audience. The smell of burning filled their nostrils as they excitedly watched the unfolding scene.

  Felix turned around and saw The Sherriff stumbling backwards towards the store room. He was as white as a sheet. Felix had never seen the old man this worried. He pulled at Tom’s sleeve and the pair crept towards the storeroom. The Sheriff was in there whispering to a tatty old book, it was small enough to fit in a pocket. He was definitely asking lots of questions, the boys strained to listen to the Sheriff but the shrieks of excitement from their classmates drowned out his whispering voice. The old man opened the top drawer in an old oak map cupboard and to the boys’ surprise he pulled out a large silver broad sword. The blade was gleaming in the light, the hilt was bedecked with red and blue gemstones. He placed the heavy weapon under his jacket to try and conceal it from his students.

  The Sheriff looked up and saw two scared faces peering round the doorway at him. He hurriedly summoned the boys into the room, he was gripping the book as if his life depended on it. As they drew nearer Felix, the shorter of the two, could see the title of the book. He nudged Tom and pointed.

  “Look! It’s actually real.”

  Tom brushed his dark mop like fringe away from his eyes and laughed. The ancient myth of The Sheriff and his secret book was true. On the front cover the stunned pair saw in large, old fashioned gold lettering The Book of Words.

  “Felix,” The Sheriff whispered nervously. “This is yours to keep safe now. Make sure nothing happens to it.”

  “Eh!” Felix turned to Tom for reassurance. Tom shrugged his shoulders.

  “You have been named as The Keeper of the Book. Look!” said the Sheriff as he pointed at the peeling leather surrounding the book.

  Felix turned the front of the Book towards him and there under the title he saw

  The Keeper

  Felix Jones

  “The Keeper of this old thing.” Tom giggled at the thought of Felix being in charge of anything.

  “This is serious,” shouted The Sheriff. “Don’t let them get hold of it, whatever you do.”

  “Who? Why?” Felix was getting very confused at The Sheriff’s ramblings.

  “And why him?” added Tom, “Why not me?” he said as he lifted his arms up flexing his muscles. “I’m the strongest.”

  “The Book has named Felix, nothing can change that.” The Sheriff looked increasingly worried.

  “What does the Book do? Why does it need looking after?” Felix was thinking the old man had finally lost the plot.

  “You will figure it out in your own time.” The Sheriff whispered with a reassuring wink and with that he ushered the boys back into the chaos of the classroom. He then waved, signalling for Felix and Tom to re-join their classmates to watch the ongoing spectacle unravel.

  2

  The menacing smoke billowed slowly towards the school building, the football goals disappeared into the murky black mass. The tips of the rugby posts looked like mountain peaks poking out above the clouds. The green grass turned grey as the smoke advanced. Out of the increasing gloom four ghostly figures strode purposely. They were dressed from head to toe in brown leather. Their monks’ cloaks added menace to their appearance. They drew long silver swords from under their cloaks and pointed straight towards the balcony of Room G11. The air of excitement and anticipation in the classroom turned to an atmosphere of fear as the monks began to speed up the gentle slope towards the school. The Sheriff, as if knowing what was about to happen, boomed, “Go quietly to the school hall and wait for me there.”

  Everyone but Felix and Tom rushed towards the door. Tables and chairs flew everywhere as the terrified students fled through the small doorway and into the long corridor. Felix approached The Sheriff.

  “Let’s get out of here,” shouted Tom as the monks climbed onto the balcony.

  “Sir, what do I do?” Felix asked, expecting some long helpful answer whilst he held out his hand, signalling Tom to wait.

  “You’ll figure it out, as we all have,” repeated The Sheriff.

  There was an almighty crash as one of the monks flew through the window. Shards of glass sprayed ov
er the room. Felix and Tom threw both their hands in front of their faces for protection. The monks stood in a line facing The Sheriff with their swords ready to attack. The petrified boys cowered in the doorway hiding from view behind a toppled desk.

  The Sheriff drew his thick gleaming silver sword. He glanced towards his panicking students. He mouthed, “Run.” Without a second thought the boys were off down the corridor. Behind them they heard a low, gravelly voice.

  “Keeper, where is the Book?” The monk sounded menacing.

  “I am no longer The Keeper!” The Sheriff shouted at the intruders.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Tom screamed at Felix as they run away from the Geography classroom.

  “Not a clue! Quick down here.” Felix tugged on Tom’s blazer as he slid round the corner.

  All they heard after that was the crash of swords as the monks attacked. Then a deathly silence fell.

  The boys ran as fast as they could to find safety. Tom was a sports star at school so he was way in front of Felix who was always the last to be picked for football. They ran past many classrooms filled with students pressed against the window watching the fire in the old house. Tom shoved open the door to the boys’ toilets and dived in, waiting for his best friend to catch him up. The pair had been inseparable since nursery school and had been in many scrapes, but nothing like this. Without a word he pulled Felix through the entrance and into a cubicle, locked the door and slumped against it making sure it could not be opened. Felix held the Book in his hands. He wondered what was so important about this funny little book that he would quite happily have thrown into the school skip.

  “What’s so special about this?” whispered Tom, snatching the Book from Felix’s hand.

  “I know as much as you! Mr Law had been The Keeper and now I am.” Felix stared at The Book of Words in a state of utter confusion.

  Felix was a little confused to say the least, and his eyes began to fill with tears. Tom put his reassuring arms round his friend’s shoulders. “Chuck it out of the window, there’s a skip down there.”

  Felix had never disobeyed instructions from a teacher, but this was the first time he felt he might.

  “The Sheriff said I had to keep it safe.” Felix quivered with fear.

  “They don’t know you have it,” stated Tom. “We’ll be fine in here.”

  Felix thought they would be safe for now – those monsters did not have a clue he was the Keeper so both he and Tom assumed they would be safe from their evil clutches.

  A cold shiver ran down his spine as he heard that same low, gravelly voice cry out along the corridor, “The Keeper, Felix Jones. Where are you?”

  “You’re dead!” Tom murmured to Felix.

  “Thanks mate!” exclaimed Felix laughing.

  The fire siren began to ring, three separate bells. The school was on lock down. Every door would be locked until the police arrived and they had cleared the building of danger and declared it safe. The pair realised that if they stayed where they were behind the cubicle door they may be found by the caretaker. He scoured the corridors for loose students during lock down and they would be taken to the safety of the School Hall. Old Mr Buckley, the jolly caretaker who looked like a smiley gnome, arrived within two minutes.

  “Anyone there?” he shouted as he opened the toilet door.

  “Me!” cried Felix with a sense of relief.

  “Come on sonny, we need to get you to the hall.” The old man stood in the doorway scratching his ears and looking quizzically at Felix. Tom followed them quietly.

  They quickly moved through the school corridors, checking for more students as they ran. They turned the corner to enter the main reception where they found their path was blocked by four shadowy figures. The boys saw their faces for the first time, half human and half skeleton. They reeled backwards in horror, they were terrified, they could not move. The blood of The Sherriff dripped off the monks’ deathly blades as they eyed their next victims.

  To Felix’s surprise the jolly old caretaker turned to him and whispered, “I am a Guardian. Don’t let that book go. Don’t let the Brethren get hold of it. Run!” He drew a large sabre from under his old battered donkey jacket and charged at the monks.

  “Scarper,” he hollered at the boys before engaging the four intruders in battle.

  “This day can’t get any weirder!” Tom cried as he dragged Felix off towards the History department.

  The boys were once again running. Felix was shivering with fear but he could feel hot sweat pouring down his face and back. There was nowhere to hide, the pair just decided to keep running. All the doors were locked, they flew past room after room filled with terrified students hiding under their desks. This was going on too long to be a practice drill and the atmosphere in the school was tense. A door creaked as it was tentatively opened. Mr Taylor, their favourite History teacher and football coach, grabbed Tom by the collar and pulled them both into the apparent safety of his classroom before locking the door behind them.

  Felix knew it would only be a matter of time before they would be discovered by the creatures fighting Mr Buckley. Guardians, Keepers, the Brethren - he was clueless as to what it was they had got themselves involved in. People were dying for the Book. One thing Felix had figured out for himself was that The Book of Words was too important for him to let the monks get their hands on.

  3

  Out of breath and wet through with perspiration, Felix slumped wearily to the floor whilst Tom lifted his hands above his head desperately trying to catch his breath. He had run all over the football and rugby fields without straining himself but this was the first time he had run for his life. Mr Taylor pulled up a chair and heaved Felix onto it. It was soon made very clear to everyone that this was not a drill. The blood splatters on the boys’ shirts pointed to the fact that something horrific was happening out there in the school corridors. Some students, quiet until now, started screaming. Felix thought for a second and cried, “Get out. Use the windows. They’re not after any of you.”

  They did not need telling twice. The class opened the windows and began diving out onto the field and fleeing towards the police car that had screeched down the school drive through the fast dispersing smoke.

  A very worried and ashen faced Mr Taylor asked, “What the hell is going on Jones?”

  “I don’t -,” Felix stuttered before he was rudely interrupted.

  “And don’t say you don’t know! What class are you supposed to be in?”

  “Mr Law’s, sir.” Felix was trying his best to be polite.

  “Where is Mr Law? Where is Mr Buckley? He should have swept you up and taken you to the hall,” asked an increasingly angry Mr Taylor.

  “The Brethren got them. I think they’re dead. Mr Law was The Keeper and Mr Buckley was The Guardian. He tried to fight them off.” Tom knew his answer sounded unbelievable.

  “What utter rubbish! What have you done Matthews?” Mr Taylor shouted accusingly.

  “Nothing, sir, honestly. There are these monsters, and they came out of the smoke and killed The Sheriff,” pleaded Tom, knowing how stupid he sounded. His previous behaviour record in school was a long list of various misdemeanours, and because of this his word was not exactly accepted by the teachers at his school.

  Before Mr Taylor could utter another word, a low, gravelly voice boomed along the corridor. “The Keeper. Felix Jones, where are you?” Mr Taylor eyed the window, planning his escape, but his instinct was to protect the boys. As his students he had a duty to ensure they were safe. The wooden frame disintegrated into splinters as the door burst open. The grotesque face of a Brethren monk peered through the gaping doorway into the classroom. For a big man, Mr Taylor had a very high pitched scream. He leapt like an Olympic gymnast straight out of the window onto the school field and ran towards the group of students like a gazelle evading a cheetah.

  The boys were left alone to face the four hideous, sword wielding monsters. Felix tucked the old book in the inside poc
ket of his blazer. He did not know how, but he would do his best to stop them getting their hands on the strange treasure. He wondered if they would kill him for the Book. Why did they want it? It must have some use - but finding out could wait until he had escaped from the room. To his surprise the monks put their swords away. Felix felt a little safer - but not much.

  “Scared are you?” shouted Tom, who by this time was waving a chair round his head as a weapon.

  Their leader growled, “Are you Felix Jones? Are you The Keeper?”

  “No, I’m the man in the moon!” said Tom cockily.

  “Enough of this!” screeched the monk. “You are coming with us and so is the Book”.

  “No we’re not.” Tom moved in front of Felix. Tom had always protected Felix and this appeared to be no exception. Felix could tell Tom was terrified but just like on the rugby pitch he would not show any weakness. Felix on the other hand was visibly shaking like a leaf.

  As the brains of the outfit Felix quickly realised that the monks obviously needed the Keeper as well as the Book for whatever their scheme was. The Brethren would take him alive but he did not fancy a trip into whatever world had spewed forth these strange creatures. His only option was to try to escape and hope he could lose them in the rabbit warren of school corridors.

  Tom whispered in Felix’s ear, “Right Mr Keeper, how the hell do we get out of this one?”

  They were surrounded. There was no easy escape route, the window was blocked by a grinning monk, as was the doorway.