The Tunnels of Tarcoola Page 14
By the time she reached the garden Kitty’s chest hurt, her legs hurt and she had a stitch. Andrea was waiting for her.
‘Where now?’ panted Kitty.
‘Shortcut.’ Andrea plunged into the bushes, and Kitty struggled after her.
David was waiting by a dried-up pond that Kitty hadn’t seen before. In the middle was a statue of a little naked boy, surrounded by goldfish.
‘Oh, I get it,’ said Kitty. ‘Isn’t he cute?’
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ said David. ‘You’d better go home.’
‘I can’t,’ said Kitty. ‘If I go out into the street those men’ll see me.’
‘They were outside the Sunset Home,’ Andrea explained. ‘We smuggled ourselves out. It was cool.’ Her eyes were shining.
‘They’ve been in the house, too,’ said David. ‘I went down to the cellar while I was waiting, and they’ve fixed the bolt on the trapdoor and put a new padlock on it.’
‘So,’ said Andrea, ‘they do know about that entrance, and they can get into the tunnels themselves.’
‘What about the marks we made,’ asked Kitty anxiously, ‘leading to our secret exit?’
‘Well, luckily we were using Marty’s mysterious medieval map system,’ said David. ‘I’m betting those guys won’t have any idea what his symbols mean.’
‘At least Marty did something right,’ said Kitty. ‘Making us find that other entrance.’
‘Yeah. I called him and tried get him to come with us, but he wouldn’t even talk about it.’
Andrea was looking around the pond.
‘Let’s find that key and get going,’ she said.
They examined the statue first. It was broken in places, but they could imagine what it would have been like intact. There weren’t any obvious hiding places, particularly as the little boy was naked. Nor were there any recesses in the pedestal he stood on.
‘Okay,’ said Andrea. ‘It’s got to be the fish.’
The key was in the mouth of one of the fish – or rather, down its throat. It was David who worked it out, by noticing that only every second fish was designed to spout water.
‘It wouldn’t be in a watery fish,’ he explained. ‘It’d rust in no time. See, it’s sure to be an iron key . . . ’
‘We get it, we get it!’ Kitty and Andrea were running around peering down the throats of the non-watery fish, which were turned slightly away from the pond, and it was Kitty who found the key, wrapped in a piece of heavy, oily cloth. As soon as she held it up the others were off, and with her shorter legs it was all she could do to keep up with them.
They regrouped at the edge of the clearing with the female statue.
‘Now,’ said Andrea. ‘Let’s be really quiet when we go to the entrance, and make sure there’s no one around.’
‘Just a minute,’ said Kitty. ‘Can I please use your phone, David?’
She dialled her home number. Martin answered.
‘Is Mum home yet?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Marty, you’ve got to cover for me.’
‘Huh? Dave said you weren’t with them.’
‘Well, I am now, but I’m supposed to be at Rosa’s. If I’m late, try to stall Mum and Dad, okay?’
‘Yeah, but, you know . . . don’t be too late.’
‘I know, I know. But your precious Harold Buckingham and his gooks are onto us. This is our last chance, Marty.’
‘He’s not my Harold Buckingham, Kitty, and they’re not . . . ’
‘Sorry, gotta go now. Bye.’
David had gone ahead, so she slipped the phone into the pocket of her jeans.
They moved the pile of stones aside and climbed down through the entrance behind the statue. Staying close together, they followed Martin’s symbols back through the tunnel to the main shaft under the house. The solid locked door opposite them was coated with dust and looked as if it had not been moved for a long time. The key fitted easily, but resisted all attempts to turn it. David tried to jiggle it, but it wouldn’t move. He tried pulling it out a bit, then pressing it further in, without success. Finally Andrea, with gestures and raised eyebrows, suggested they retreat to the bomb shelter.
‘I thought we might oil it,’ she explained when they got there. ‘That works with our back-door key. There must be some kind of oil here?’
While Andrea lit candles, Kitty searched around and found something that she thought might do. She also found some kerosene and an old rag, and set to cleaning the key. Meanwhile, David selected three gas masks and tried them on to satisfy himself that they were working. Andrea giggled nervously at the sight.
‘We won’t be able to talk with these on,’ he remarked. ‘So it’ll be all sign language. Kitty, keep yours simple, okay?’
‘I’m really good at sign language!’ She was indignant.
‘Yeah, but we’re really bad at reading it.’
Holding the gas marks and torches, they went back into the shaft and slipped the prepared key back into the lock. At a nod from David, they all found a grip on the key and twisted together. Slowly it turned, and they heard a dull clunk. The door creaked as it swung open and a foul smell erupted into the shaft. Kitty fell to her knees, gagging, her eyes streaming. Next minute they were all tumbling back into the shelter, and Andrea was slamming the door.
‘Oh, that was stupid,’ gasped David.
Kitty grabbed a bowl and vomited into it.
‘Sorry, sorry!’ she choked.
They sat around for a few minutes, their heads on their knees, then Kitty got some water from the barrel and they all had a few sips. There was nowhere to tip out Kitty’s vomit, so she put the bowl under the table and covered it with newspaper. The smell seeped through, making her nauseous all over again.
‘Standing there with our masks in our hands!’ said Andrea shakily. ‘What did we think we were doing?’
‘Look,’ David said. ‘If everyone’s all right now, let’s get the bloody things on, and if we can get from here to the door without killing ourselves, we go into the mine, okay?’
‘Okay,’ the others agreed.
They put the masks on, carefully adjusted them and gave each other the thumbs-up signal, then set off back to the door. The masks smelled bad, but nowhere near as bad as the gases around the entrance to the mine. At first Kitty felt panicky, wondering what would happen if the smell made her throw up again into the mask while they were inside. After a while she got used to it and her stomach settled, but she wondered what the chemical in the mask was and whether it would run out, and she didn’t like the reduced field of vision. She trudged along between the others, trying not to breathe deeply.
The door led into a tunnel much like the ones they had already explored. It appeared to be a natural fissure that had been enlarged and shored up here and there, with a few steps cut into the steep sections as it went steadily downwards. After a short time, it ended in a narrow cleft. When they squeezed through, they were in a wider, higher tunnel which they all recognised instantly as part of a mine.
David gave another thumbs-up signal, and indicated that they should turn to the left. As they walked close together, guided by his torch, Andrea played the beam of the other torch over the shiny black walls and ceiling, shored up with heavy timber beams. There were no signs of life down here: no insects, no cobwebs, no roots of plants straggling through. It was very hot, and the air seemed to shimmer.
Ahead, the tunnel suddenly widened into a roughly round chamber, about four metres across. A door-sized opening opposite them was blocked with a mixture of rubble and a cement-like substance. Andrea pointed to it and nodded vigorously. That must be the Birthday shaft.
Around the chamber, there were the remains of some wooden structures, bits of machinery littering the floor and some steel shelving built into the walls.
Andrea started looking under things on the floor, but Kitty shook her head firmly. She mimed eating and drinking, and pointed to the shelves, which appeared to be empty. The two girls
started to search the walls systematically, looking for any niche or recess. Somewhere safe. Meanwhile, David was searching through the machinery. Kitty knew that was wrong, but the gas mask was making her brain foggy, and she couldn’t think up the sign language to tell him.
In one section of wall some natural hollows had been enlarged and used to store small objects, like the pigeonholes the teachers used at school. Most were empty, but a few held bits of rubbish: a screwdriver, a rusty old hammer. Then Kitty found a mug with a broken handle; then a tin plate. She was on the right track!
Right at the back of the next niche she saw something crumpled.
Kitty reached in and felt something greasy and yielding. She recoiled. Then she reached in and felt it again. It was something hard, wrapped in the same kind of stiff cloth as the key and tied with coarse string. She carefully drew it out and looked around for the others. Sign language was all very well, but they weren’t looking in her direction. She called out, making a muffled, echoing sound:
‘Aahhhhhheeeeee!!’
Andrea jumped. They both turned, and Kitty held up the package. Handing her his torch, David carefully peeled back part of the cloth, revealing the corner of a wooden box. They exchanged a jubilant high-five, then Kitty clutched the package to her chest as they turned and headed for the way out.
MARTIN was trying to read a poem for English, but he couldn’t seem to make it mean anything. He kept reading the first verse over and over again. The words were simple, but somehow the poem didn’t make any sense:
A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him – did you not,
His notice sudden is.
‘A narrow fellow in the grass’? What was that?
He looked at the poem, but the lines blurred. He didn’t like the thought of Kitty in those tunnels without him. David had said just he and Andrea were going. Why had they changed their minds? Had something happened?
He didn’t have Rosa’s mobile number, and he couldn’t call her house if she was covering up. It wasn’t fair of Kitty. First she made up that ridiculous story about threatening men, now she was getting him and possibly Rosa into trouble.
The house was quiet, but their parents would be home in an hour or maybe even less. He went downstairs and tried to ring David, but there was no service. They must be underground already. What had David said? There was something down there, just as Kitty had suspected, and he and Andrea were going after it because Kitty . . . because Kitty . . . what had he said? Martin hadn’t been listening properly.
It was probably all a load of rubbish anyway.
The phone rang again. He raced to pick it up.
‘Marty? Is that you?’
‘Samantha?’
‘You know, it’d be soooo much easier if you gave me your mobile number. It was really, really hard to get your landline. I tried White Pages but it seems to be a silent number. I suppose it’s because of those nuisance calls, my mum says . . . ’
‘Samantha, what do you want? You could’ve sent me an email.’
‘I guess so. I just . . . I sort of wanted to know if you were at home.’
‘You’re not thinking of coming round, are you?’ Alarming thoughts flashed through his brain.
‘No! No. Anyway, I’m not allowed out, unless it’s . . . No. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘No reason. Only my dad . . . He was kind of mad about something today, something to do with that house of his. I heard him talking on the phone to those men who work for him. He was saying something about some kids, and after that stuff you told me about the house and the tunnels, I was worried that you might have gone there.’
‘After that stuff I told you?’
‘Yeah. I think it might be a good idea if you don’t go there for a while.’
‘What do you mean, stuff I told you?’
‘Look, Martin, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. My dad gets those things out of me. You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘Samantha! What are you talking about! What did you tell your dad?’
‘What you told me.’
‘But I didn’t tell you anything! Did I?’
‘Well – just a little bit. About the secret entrances. One in the cellar and one in the garden.’
He sat down heavily on the stairs.
‘So you went out with me because your dad told you to? To find out what we knew?’
‘No! I mean, he told me to, but I did it because I like you!’
Martin was on the verge of slamming the phone down, then he finally registered something she had said.
‘What men?’
BACK in the shaft under the house, David re-locked the door into the mine and they thankfully removed the gas masks. Kitty opened her mouth to speak, but Andrea put her finger to her lips and pointed upwards towards the house.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ whispered David. ‘All I want right now is to breathe fresh air. Then we can whoop and holler or whatever we’re going to do, and we can have a good look at this thing.’ The others grinned and nodded.
MARTIN got to the house and found the glass doors still unlocked. He crept in and down the cellar stairs, all his senses alert. The trapdoor was exposed and bolted down with a shiny new padlock. He stared at it, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.
THEY made their way back to the entrance in the garden, Kitty still clutching their prize, and David went up the ladder and peeped out cautiously.
‘It looks clear,’ he whispered to Andrea.
She climbed out after him. There was a sudden rustle and she felt herself grabbed from behind. Before she could scream, a hand was clamped over her mouth. At the edge of her vision she could see David in the grip of a tall, red-haired man, kicking and struggling furiously.
‘Wow!’ said Kitty, emerging behind her. ‘This is the best day . . . ’
Her voice trailed away and she turned to run. The short, stocky man who was holding Andrea took a firm grip on her upper arm.
‘Yis, sure uz,’ he agreed in his strong New Zealand accent.
‘You’re sure that’s all of them?’ said the taller red-haired man.
‘Yeah, the other boy went straight home from school and stayed there.’
Kitty started trembling so hard she nearly dropped the package. Andrea squirmed and kicked out, trying to reach the red-haired man’s ankles.
The man evaded her easily, and held out his hand for the package. Kitty clutched it closer to her chest.
‘You think you’re so tough,’ she said, ‘Spying on kids, and . . . and going round being Mr Buckingham’s ghouls!’
Andrea gave a nervous giggle. The man leaned forward casually and slapped Kitty hard on the side of the head.
Andrea screamed. Kitty staggered, fell to her knees and dropped the package. She didn’t make a sound, but Andrea could see tears running down her cheeks. In the brief confusion David broke away from his captor, dived in and grabbed the package. He looked around wildly then started to run, but the red-haired man caught him before he had gone more than a couple of paces.
He twisted David’s arm roughly up behind his back. Andrea could see that it hurt, and that David was struggling to keep his face expressionless.
‘Try that again and I’ll kill you.’ The man’s voice was cold and detached.
With the tall man still holding David’s arm at an uncomfortable angle behind his back and the shorter man following, dragging both girls by their arms, they set off in an untidy procession.
At the edge of the rose garden they had to go into single file to pass through a break in the stone wall. Pushing David ahead of him, the red-haired man suddenly stumbled and, with a curse, fell forward. There was a flurry of movement and a yell of pain from the other man, then he too was down.
Andrea grabbed Kitty by the arm. ‘Run, run!’ she yelled.
The taller man was already up and grappling with Martin, w
ho was wielding a long piece of wood and trying to hit him again with it. The man shouted, ‘Don’t let them go!’ Meanwhile, David had broken away and run back into the rose garden.
The short man grabbed Andrea. Seeing this, his partner let go of Martin and tried to get back into the rose garden, but the short man, confused, had dropped Andrea’s arm and now had Martin in his sights. The two men collided in the gap, cursing and shoving at each other. With seconds of freedom and nowhere else to go, David ran back behind the statue and dropped into the tunnel.
The tall man grabbed Kitty and Andrea roughly by the arms and dragged them over to his partner, who was holding Martin. Martin was scratched, dirty and defiant, kicking out whenever he could.
‘You’re bloody useless,’ growled the tall man to his companion. ‘You caught the wrong one. Take care of the lot of them.’ He pulled a gun out from under his jacket. ‘You’ll need this. Lock them up in the house, then get the fuel out of the car. I’ll grab the other one.’
With that, he disappeared behind the statue.
The short man waved the gun at the two girls.
‘All right, get over here and get in line.’
‘You wouldn’t use that,’ said Andrea.
‘I’ll try this first.’ He held up his other hand threateningly. She shuffled into line, scowling furiously. They moved off towards the house, the man bringing up the rear just behind Kitty. Andrea kept hearing the other man’s words. ‘Lock them up in the house, then get the fuel.’ What did he mean? What sort of fuel?
‘You’d better let us go,’ said Martin. ‘I told our parents exactly where I was going. They’ll be here any minute.’
‘That’s an old one,’ sniggered the man.
‘It’s true,’ said Andrea. ‘These two are on a really strict curfew. Their parents always come looking for them.’
‘Pull the other one.’
Andrea and Martin exchanged glances, and Martin gave a wry little shrug. Kitty suddenly stopped dead.
‘Watch out!’
DAVID ran blindly down the tunnel, blundering into walls as he groped in his pocket for the torch. Flicking it on, he took stock of his situation without slowing down. Where to go? With the trapdoor now padlocked he wouldn’t be able to get into the house. Could he try losing himself in the network of tunnels that led to David’s Leap? No, his pursuer would just sit tight and wait for him to come out again. Or follow him in and . . .