If anyone remembers the except I put up a year or two ago with a raid on a road-building compound, this is the start of a very heavily revised version of that story. This is a "quieter" opening, which might be a risk, so I'd really like some feedback on hookiness, character, stakes etc, plus any points of confusion (and anything else, of course).
*****
Jezz glanced down the ten-metre fall to the rough patch of grass and weeds that surrounded the base of Doaky’s trunk. Where she stood now, gently swaying on the kink of Woodpecker branch, was as high as she’d ever climbed. Any farther, and she would break her record. Or her neck. Because the only route higher, and the only way to reach the plastic carrier bag snagged up near the tree’s crown, was to cross the impossible-looking gap to Snake-bend.
At least if she fell, she wouldn’t have to worry about her GCSE results any more.
‘You OK?’ called Adam from wide, level bough of the Sofa, more than halfway to the ground. It had been Jezz’s idea for him to video her, but it would take a lot of work to edit out all this faffing.
‘Fine,’ she called back. ‘Just enjoying the view.’
‘Sure? We can leave it.’
‘I’m not leaving her polluted.’
She looked up at the bag that had defiled Doaky for the two months since the high winds of April, while they’d waited for the blackbird nest to empty. How to reach it? She calmed her mind, and felt – yes, she was sure she felt – the goodwill flow into her, the thing that made Doaky unique of all the trees she and Adam had climbed. But no answer came. She’d watched Adam do this crossing to Snake-bend two years back, the time he’d made her shriek by pretending to slip. But he hadn’t used any special technique, just his longer legs. He would be the one fetching the bag now, except he’d grown too heavy for this bit of Woodpecker, and the branch flexed too much for him to feel safe.
Flexed. Jezz smiled to herself. She’d got it.
She tested her trainers’ rubber grip, then used what bodyweight she had to start Woodpecker swaying, creaking, carrying her low then high, lower, higher, while she listened for any sound of real distress from the branch – and on the fourth high she pushed hard with her left foot and swung her other leg across the gap and committed herself to success or death. Her hand closed on the upright offshoot she’d aimed for, and she planted her reaching foot on Snake-bend and hauled herself across.
Her heart hammered. She whooped from breathless lungs, and for just a moment hoped Adam would hear it as a scream.
‘Good one, Jezz.’
‘Easy.’
Her leg-bones had softened to jelly, her muscles to mud. But from here it actually was easy. She clambered her way up the steeper part of Snake-bend to where she could reach the now-tattered plastic bag. She teased the intruder off the twigs it had tangled on, and stuffed it inside her waistband. Then she lowered herself, feeling each foothold firm before she put weight on it. She didn’t have to cross back to Woodpecker, because although the section of Snake-bend just below the gap lacked holds for climbing, it could be shimmied down with care.
Adam videoed her all the way back to the Sofa. With a flourish, Jezz pulled out the bag. She channelled through her expression all the generations of fierce warriors she wanted for her tribal ancestors, and addressed the lens. ‘Message from Jesamine Nazari, kids. Don’t… ****ing… litter.’
*****
Jezz glanced down the ten-metre fall to the rough patch of grass and weeds that surrounded the base of Doaky’s trunk. Where she stood now, gently swaying on the kink of Woodpecker branch, was as high as she’d ever climbed. Any farther, and she would break her record. Or her neck. Because the only route higher, and the only way to reach the plastic carrier bag snagged up near the tree’s crown, was to cross the impossible-looking gap to Snake-bend.
At least if she fell, she wouldn’t have to worry about her GCSE results any more.
‘You OK?’ called Adam from wide, level bough of the Sofa, more than halfway to the ground. It had been Jezz’s idea for him to video her, but it would take a lot of work to edit out all this faffing.
‘Fine,’ she called back. ‘Just enjoying the view.’
‘Sure? We can leave it.’
‘I’m not leaving her polluted.’
She looked up at the bag that had defiled Doaky for the two months since the high winds of April, while they’d waited for the blackbird nest to empty. How to reach it? She calmed her mind, and felt – yes, she was sure she felt – the goodwill flow into her, the thing that made Doaky unique of all the trees she and Adam had climbed. But no answer came. She’d watched Adam do this crossing to Snake-bend two years back, the time he’d made her shriek by pretending to slip. But he hadn’t used any special technique, just his longer legs. He would be the one fetching the bag now, except he’d grown too heavy for this bit of Woodpecker, and the branch flexed too much for him to feel safe.
Flexed. Jezz smiled to herself. She’d got it.
She tested her trainers’ rubber grip, then used what bodyweight she had to start Woodpecker swaying, creaking, carrying her low then high, lower, higher, while she listened for any sound of real distress from the branch – and on the fourth high she pushed hard with her left foot and swung her other leg across the gap and committed herself to success or death. Her hand closed on the upright offshoot she’d aimed for, and she planted her reaching foot on Snake-bend and hauled herself across.
Her heart hammered. She whooped from breathless lungs, and for just a moment hoped Adam would hear it as a scream.
‘Good one, Jezz.’
‘Easy.’
Her leg-bones had softened to jelly, her muscles to mud. But from here it actually was easy. She clambered her way up the steeper part of Snake-bend to where she could reach the now-tattered plastic bag. She teased the intruder off the twigs it had tangled on, and stuffed it inside her waistband. Then she lowered herself, feeling each foothold firm before she put weight on it. She didn’t have to cross back to Woodpecker, because although the section of Snake-bend just below the gap lacked holds for climbing, it could be shimmied down with care.
Adam videoed her all the way back to the Sofa. With a flourish, Jezz pulled out the bag. She channelled through her expression all the generations of fierce warriors she wanted for her tribal ancestors, and addressed the lens. ‘Message from Jesamine Nazari, kids. Don’t… ****ing… litter.’