Chris Blake - Outback Outlaw

adventures!

Gladiator Clash

Knight Quest

Viking Raiders

Greek Warriors

Pirate Mutiny

Egyptian Curse

Cowboy Showdown

Samurai Assassin

Outback Outlaw

Stone Age Rampage

Mohican Brave

Aztec Attack

For games, competitions and more visit:

www.time-hunters.com

With special thanks to Martin Howard

Cover

Title Page Time Hunters: Outback Outlaw Chris Blake

Dedication With special thanks to Martin Howard

Prologue

Chapter 1: Showstopper

Chapter 2: Danger Down Under

Chapter 3: Party Time

Chapter 4: Quick Getaway

Chapter 5: On the Run

Chapter 6: Snake in the Grass

Chapter 7: Walkabout

Chapter 8: Jailbreak!

Chapter 9: Hideout High Jinks

Chapter 10: Encore

Weapons

Australian Outback Timeline

Time Hunters Timeline

Fantastic Facts

The Hunt Continues …

Discover A New Time Hunters Quest!

Copyright

About the Publisher

As far as Zuma was concerned, there were only two good things about being a human sacrifice. One was the lovely black pendant the tribal elders had given her to wear. The other was the little Chihuahua dog the high priest had just placed next to her.

I’ve always wanted a pet , thought Zuma, as the trembling pup snuggled up close. Though this does seem like an extreme way to get one.

Zuma lay on an altar at the top of the Great Pyramid. In honour of the mighty Aztec rain god, Tlaloc, she’d been painted bright blue and wore a feathered headdress. The entire village had turned out to watch the slave girl being sacrificed in exchange for plentiful rainfall and a good harvest. She could see her master strutting in the crowd below, proud to have supplied the slave for today’s sacrifice. He looked a little relieved too. And Zuma couldn’t blame him. As slaves went, she was a troublesome one, always trying to run away. But she couldn’t help it – her greatest dream was to be free!

Zuma had spent the entire ten years of her life in slavery, and she was sick of it. She knew she should be honoured to be a sacrifice, but she had a much better plan – to escape!

“Besides,” she said, frowning at her painted skin, “blue is not my colour!”

“Hush, slave!” said the high priest, Acalan, his face hidden by a jade mask. “The ceremony is about to begin.” He raised his knife in the air.

“Shame I’ll be missing it,” said Zuma. “Tell Tlaloc I’d like to take a rain check.” As the priest lowered the knife, she pulled up her knees and kicked him hard in the stomach with both feet.

“ Oof! ” The priest doubled over, clutching his belly. The blade clattered to the floor.

Zuma rolled off the altar, dodging the other priests, who fell over each other in their attempts to catch her. One priest jumped into her path, but the little Chihuahua dog sank his teeth into the man’s ankle. As the priest howled in pain, Zuma whistled to the dog.

“Nice work, doggie!” she said. “I’m getting out of here and you’re coming with me!” She scooped him up and dashed down the steps of the pyramid.

“Grab her!” groaned the high priest from above.

Many hands reached out to catch the slave girl, but Zuma was fast and determined. She bolted towards the jungle bordering the pyramid. Charging into the cool green leaves, she ran until she could no longer hear the shouts of the crowd.

“We did it,” she said to the dog. “We’re free!”

As she spoke, the sky erupted in a loud rumble of thunder, making the dog yelp. “Thunder’s nothing to be scared of,” said Zuma.

“Don’t be so sure about that!” came a deep voice above her.

Zuma looked up to see a creature with blue skin and long, sharp fangs, like a jaguar. He carried a wooden drum and wore a feathered headdress, just like Zuma’s.

She knew at once who it was. “Tlaloc!” she gasped.

The rain god’s bulging eyes glared down at her. “You have dishonoured me!” he bellowed. “No sacrifice has ever escaped before!”

“Really? I’m the first?” Zuma beamed with pride, but the feeling didn’t last long. Tlaloc’s scowl was too scary. “I’m sorry!” she said quietly. “I just wanted to be free.”

“You will never be free!” Tlaloc hissed. “Unless you can escape again …”

Tlaloc banged his drum, and thunder rolled through the jungle.

He pounded the drum a second time, and thick black clouds gathered high above the treetops.

“This isn’t looking good,” Zuma whispered. Holding the dog tightly, she closed her eyes.

On the third deafening drum roll, the jungle floor began to shake and a powerful force tugged at Zuma. She felt her whole body being swallowed up inside … the drum!

Tom Sullivan peeked round the curtain at the side of the stage. His school talent show had just started and he was helping out behind the scenes. On stage a girl from Tom’s class was singing a pop song – badly. Beside Tom, Zuma put her hands over her ears.

“Ouch!” the Aztec slave girl complained. “She sounds like a howler monkey with a sore tooth!”

Tom grinned. In her feathered headdress and blue skin paint, Zuma looked ready to take to the stage herself. Chilli, the tiny Chihuahua dog in Zuma’s arms, yapped in agreement. Tom had to be careful not to say anything in reply. The backstage area was crammed with performers getting ready for their turn in the spotlight, but Tom was the only person who could see Zuma and Chilli.

“Watch out!” Tom told a group of dancers called Break Quake. “Someone spilled a drink on the floor. It’s slippery.” He pointed to a small puddle on the floor and pushed back the stage scenery, giving Break Quake some space.

Zuma watched the dancers warm up. Only a week had passed since Tom had beaten an Aztec drum in his dad’s museum, accidentally freeing Zuma and Chilli from it. Since then, the three of them had travelled through time looking for six golden coins hidden by the fearsome rain god, Tlaloc. So far, they had visited the Wild West and Medieval Japan, and found two of the coins. If they recovered all six, Zuma would win back her freedom.

On stage, the singer took a bow and the audience clapped. Tom pulled a rope and the curtain came down. “OK. You’re next,” he told Break Quake. “Take your places. Ten seconds.”

The dancers rushed past, jostling Mr Jenkins the caretaker, who had arrived with a mop and bucket to clean up the puddle.

Mr Braintree the drama teacher, walked out in front of the curtain. “Next, we have the amazing Break Quake dance group. Let’s give them a very warm welcome …”