The Tunnels of Tarcoola Read online

  In fact – he looked again at the plan – where was the garden? Wouldn’t it be shown somewhere in the drawing as a big open space? Little cogs started to click into place in his brain.

  MARTIN answered the door, his mouth full.

  ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ he mumbled.

  ‘I just came by the Haunted House,’ said David.

  ‘You have seen a ghost!’

  ‘Very funny.’ David followed Martin into the little dining room. There were soup bowls and baguettes on the table, and Martin resumed eating as fast as he could.

  ‘I have seen into the future,’ said David gloomily. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever noticed that sign on the old factory site? The development notice?’

  ‘Well, yeah. That’s been there forever.’

  ‘Did it cross your mind that it’s the development people have been going on about?’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘I think they’re going to take out the garden around the house, as well as the factory.’

  ‘Yeah, but it’ll be okay,’ said Martin. ‘Your parents and all those other people will stop it.’

  ‘I hope so. My mum was talking about it on the phone just now. She said the developer guy owns half the council, and all his applications get through.’

  ‘He’s a bit of a crook, that Harold Buckingham,’ said Martin’s father, coming into the room with a pot of steaming soup. ‘He had this lovely old house in Marrickville last year, heritage, and there was a preservation order on it. So he sent in bulldozers in the middle of the night. By the time the residents knew what was happening, there was nothing left to save.’

  ‘But he wouldn’t do that to the Haunted House?’ Martin was horror-struck.

  ‘Wouldn’t put it past him.’

  ‘But why would he want to demolish it?’ asked David.

  ‘Hey, you kids haven’t been playing around there, have you?’

  ‘No, Dad,’ said Martin quickly.

  ‘Well, make sure you don’t. That old place has been neglected for years. It could be ready to fall down, for all I know.’

  At that moment a key scraped in the lock and Kitty tumbled into the room, her eyes bright, spilling bags and parcels. Her mother followed.

  ‘I’ve got my new shoes,’ said Kitty. ‘And we had lunch at Broadway. We went to that sushi train!’

  Kitty’s mother was already collecting plates. ‘We’d better hurry, Paul,’ she was saying. ‘The movie starts at one forty-five.’

  ‘You’re going out?’ asked Martin.

  ‘Just to a movie, but we might call in on Marion and Steve afterwards. Will you kids be okay on your own?’

  ‘Of course, Mum!’ Martin and Kitty cried in unison.

  ‘We might go to the park for a while,’ added Martin.

  ‘Well, make sure you lock up and take a key. And don’t play around those cliffs!’

  ‘We won’t,’ they chorused.

  Finally the door slammed.

  ‘All right!’ shouted Martin, exchanging a high-five with David. ‘Let’s get going!’

  ‘Wait a sec,’ said Kitty. ‘Andrea might be lurking outside. She was probably waiting for Mum and Dad to leave.’

  Sure enough, Andrea was on the front verandah. She came in rather shyly.

  ‘I’ve made a few preparations,’ said David modestly. He opened the backpack he had brought.

  ‘There’s this.’ He brought out a coil of new white rope. ‘It’s what climbers use,’ he said. ‘I’ve also got a knife, for marking our way, and – um – a torch.’ He brought out a baseball cap with a torch duct-taped to its peak. Thin wires led from the torch to a pair of batteries, strapped together, which David also produced. He put the batteries in his pocket and the cap on his head.

  ‘I do have a head-torch, but the beam’s not wide enough,’ he said. ‘This is quite strong, because I’ve used extra batteries. I’ve rigged up a switch.’

  He pressed a switch attached to another wire. The torch flickered on and off. David fiddled with the wires, frowning.

  ‘Great!’ said Martin politely, but Andrea burst out laughing.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she spluttered. ‘It’s just . . . I’m sorry. I’ve got to get a picture of this.’ She pulled a camera out of her bag and snapped.

  ‘I don’t know if it’ll come out,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want to use the flash. I’m saving the battery for the tunnels.’

  ‘You’re not taking a camera down there?’ protested Martin.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s . . . it’s just wrong!’ chimed in David.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘See, in role-playing games, the most unprepared person is a tourist,’ Martin explained with unusual patience.

  ‘A tourist?’

  ‘Yes, a tourist goes exploring the dungeon with just a camera, instead of taking useful stuff, like . . . um . . . weapons.’

  ‘Weapons,’ said Andrea. ‘Well, Marty, this isn’t a role-playing game. This is reality, and I’m bringing a camera. What are you bringing?’

  ‘Well, I’ll be making a map, of course.’ Martin took a notebook and a pencil from the top of the refrigerator. ‘And I’ve been brushing up on my skills.’ He made a few practice karate moves.

  ‘I’m bringing some food,’ said Kitty, busy opening cupboards. ‘Someone help me with this stuff.’ She piled some muesli bars, water bottles, apples and sultanas onto the table. They put some in David’s backpack and some in an old schoolbag of Martin’s.

  ‘I’ve also got some candles,’ contributed Andrea.

  ‘Oh, great,’ said David flatly. ‘Any matches?’

  Andrea produced a cigarette lighter.

  ‘Now, before we get there,’ started Kitty as they set off down the street, ‘Andrea and I have to tell you all about Miss Gordon, the lady who used to live in the house.’

  ‘Later,’ said Martin impatiently, striding ahead.

  ‘And listen,’ interrupted Andrea. ‘We have to be really careful when we get near the house, because . . . ’

  ‘But it’s important!’ Ignoring her, Kitty was trying to catch up with the boys. ‘She said she was the mistress of Tarcoola, but Cec says the house has been empty since the war. Cec says someone committed suicide there! So there really is a ghost, but Miss Gordon—’

  ‘Not now!’ said David. ‘Come on, let’s take a shortcut through the factory.’ He led the way to the gate at the top of the steps and they all slipped through the gap.

  ‘See the sign?’ said David. ‘All of this is going! That bit must be where the Haunted House is now. I think your dad’s right. I think they are going to pull it down.’

  Andrea was dismayed. ‘They can’t pull down the Haunted House!’ she said. ‘Aren’t there laws stopping them? Because it’s – sort of – historical?’

  ‘The only law around here is money,’ said David.

  ‘Well, let’s explore it while we can,’ said Martin, striding on.

  They stepped over the low stone wall and approached the deserted house cautiously.

  ‘We’ve got to be really quiet,’ whispered Andrea. ‘I came here the other day, but someone turned up – security guards or something. I nearly got caught.’

  ‘That’s all we need,’ muttered David. ‘To get arrested for trespassing.’

  ‘But I found a good way to get in,’ persisted Andrea. ‘Do you want me to show you?’

  ‘Later!’ cried Martin and David together.

  Martin ran to the corner of the house, peeped around, then gestured for the others to follow. David ran after him. It was kind of silly, but kind of fun. The two boys took turns scouting the area, making sure it was safe, then one by one they all climbed in through the broken window.

  David stooped and ran through the cellar, and the others scrambled after him.

  They pushed the wooden crates away from the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder. David crammed his cap onto his head, and the torch flashed on. Martin got out his pad and started dra
wing.

  ‘We know where this door leads,’ he said, indicating the entrance to the tunnel that led to the Doughnut. ‘Though we might explore it some more later.’

  ‘Why are you drawing those funny shapes?’ demanded Kitty. ‘This entrance shaft is square, and the doors in both those arches are rectangles. Why are you drawing them all as hexagons?’

  ‘That’s just the way it’s done,’ snapped Martin. ‘Isn’t it, Dave?’

  ‘Sure,’ said David. ‘It’s another role-playing game thing.’

  He examined the heavy wooden door opposite. ‘This one’s well and truly locked,’ he said. The door had a large, old-fashioned keyhole.

  ‘Let’s try one of these other tunnels, then,’ said Andrea, plunging through one of the open archways.

  ‘Wait!’ said David, grabbing her arm. ‘We’ve got to stick together. I think we should use the rope.’

  ‘What, like mountaineers?’ Andrea smiled. David was still holding her arm. She glanced down at his hand. He flushed and started fiddling with his pack, pulling out the rope.

  ‘There could be holes in the floor,’ he said. ‘Or . . . or anything.’

  ‘He’s right,’ put in Martin. ‘If we’re tied together at least we can’t lose anyone.’

  ‘I’d better go first,’ said David. ‘I’ve got the torch.’

  The two girls both looked at Martin. There was a dangerous glint in their eyes.

  ‘I’ll go last,’ he said diplomatically. ‘In case we’re attacked from the rear,’ he added.

  ‘Right,’ said David. Kitty rolled her eyes, and Andrea giggled.

  When they were all tied together to David’s satisfaction, they set off. The tunnel they chose seemed to have been hewn out of the sandstone. It was just wide enough and high enough for them to go through in single file, and it ran straight ahead for a few metres before opening into an irregularly shaped cave, about as big as a small room and sloping downwards at one end, where it narrowed again into another tunnel. They squeezed in. As they moved forward the unpleasant smell that hung around the entrance shaft faded. The air here was thin, faintly sour and damp.

  The sloping tunnel became narrower and steeper, but then it widened again into a more regular shape, with rough stone steps going down.

  ‘Do you want to know what I think?’ said David.

  ‘No!’ the others chorused automatically.

  ‘I think,’ David went on, ‘that some of these are natural tunnels, but where they wouldn’t join up properly someone’s dug them out. Look!’

  On their left as they descended the steps there was another opening. Here the wall was not rock but close-packed earth, and the rectangular tunnel was shored up with massive pieces of timber. It was about two metres wide, and high enough for an adult to walk through. They plunged into it eagerly, but after a short distance it petered out. A few spare lengths of timber lay at their feet, with an impenetrable earth wall in front.

  ‘Well, they gave up on that one,’ murmured Kitty.

  ‘Looks like it.’ David swept his torch in a wide arc as he led them back. Martin scribbled busily, adding hexagons to his incomprehensible map.

  They continued downwards. There were more tunnels cut into the sides of the passage, much like the first one. None of them extended for more than twenty metres or so. One led them only a few metres into the earth before rubble and loose earth blocked their path. The massive beams of wood which had once held the tunnel’s shape seemed to have collapsed into a splintered heap.

  ‘I don’t like the look of that,’ said Andrea, a little shakily.

  ‘I wonder when it happened?’ Kitty said to no one in particular.

  ‘Maybe we should stick to the stone tunnels,’ said David. ‘I think they might last longer.’

  The passage led steeply downwards now, twisting and turning. Suddenly David stopped short.

  ‘What is it?’ said Kitty, peeping over his shoulder. ‘It hasn’t caved in, has it?’

  ‘No. Look!’ David stepped forward and turned his head, so that his torch beam swept around a huge cave. It was so high the ceiling was lost in shadows. The floor was fairly level, but in the middle it reared up in great rocky projections, like a maze of graceful pillars.

  ‘Cool!’ said Andrea, pushing past the others. ‘It’s an underground palace!’

  They wandered into the chamber.

  ‘They’re sort of like stalagmites,’ said Kitty, stroking one of the pillars.

  ‘Right,’ said David. ‘How do you remember which is which?’

  ‘Stalagmites might just grow up to the roof, and stalactites have to hold on tight.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good. My grandfather taught me that stalagmites have a G for ground, and stalactites have a T for top.’

  Andrea took several photographs, the flash lighting up the cave. The walls were honeycombed in places. Some of the hollows were obviously shallow, but many of them extended into darkness.

  ‘That’s it,’ she murmured. ‘I’d better not drain the battery.’

  Martin was having some difficulty working on his map in the erratic light. Then he dropped a bombshell.

  ‘Umm, does anyone remember exactly where we came in?’ he asked casually.

  DAVID opened and shut his mouth a few times, but nothing came out.

  ‘I thought you were making a map,’ he said finally.

  ‘Yeah, but . . . ’ Martin looked intently at his map. Andrea looked over his shoulder.

  ‘It doesn’t give much away, does it?’ she remarked.

  ‘Well, what about your knife, and marking our way?’ Martin said accusingly to David.

  ‘I was going to, but you were all rushing around taking photographs.’ He glared meaningfully at Andrea. ‘Being tourists.’

  ‘Let’s have something to eat,’ said Kitty brightly.

  ‘All right, but we’d better get untied first,’ conceded Andrea.

  They freed themselves and attacked the food, which Kitty had laid out on a flat rock.

  ‘Don’t eat it all!’ she warned. ‘We may have to go onto rations.’

  Andrea scratched around in her bag and produced a candle which she balanced on the rock and lit. In the flickering light her face was ghostly. Kitty shivered.

  ‘There’s something about this place,’ she said. ‘We’re not supposed to be here.’

  David wandered around with the torch, trying to find the opening through which they had entered.

  ‘Look,’ he said, coming back to the others. ‘I’ve found a possibility. I’ve made a mark there, anyway. We’ll just have to have a look.’

  ‘Okay.’ Martin threw away his apple core.

  ‘Martin!’ Kitty’s voice was stern. ‘Bring that back here.’

  ‘All right, Mum.’ He retrieved the apple core and put it in the bag.

  ‘Aren’t we going to get tied up again?’ demanded Andrea.

  ‘Oh – I suppose we’d better.’ David untangled the rope and tied it on securely, passing the end to Andrea. She did a double knot around her waist and passed it to Kitty and Martin.

  ‘Let’s leave the candle burning here,’ Andrea suggested.

  They moved cautiously into the tunnel David had chosen. He started to have doubts almost immediately. It felt a little too narrow, and wound a little too tightly. Then suddenly it was broader and flatter.

  ‘Sorry,’ said David. ‘Definitely not it.’

  Martin pushed forward to look. ‘There wasn’t a wide bit, was there?’

  ‘No, and it’s very rough on the ground now.’ David looked down, and his torch swept over rocks and loose stones. ‘I don’t like this. Let’s go back.’

  He turned towards Andrea, and stumbled. A rock rolled under his foot, pitching him into the wall of the tunnel. The rope jerked, pulling Andrea off balance. There was a rumble and, with a flurry of loose stones, the ground opened up beneath her. Andrea screamed and disappeared.

  The rope snapped tight around David’s waist and his legs were jerked from un
der him. Face-down, scrabbling for something to cling to as Andrea’s weight and momentum dragged him backwards, he could see nothing but a blur of rocks and stones on the ground beneath him. Then his torch went out.

  He could hear dragging and scrabbling noises from the other side of the hole. Kitty was screaming ‘Andrea!’ and Martin was screaming ‘Kitty!’ Were they all sliding into the hole?

  David managed to hook his arm around a rock that was not loose and the rope jerked tight around his waist. He could hardly breathe. He fumbled with his free hand for the switch.

  ‘Don’t let me go!’ called Andrea’s plaintive voice.

  ‘Can you grab hold of something?’ David said, straining to turn on the torch.

  ‘No!’ She was obviously squirming around. The rope tightened around David’s waist. ‘There’s nothing here. Where’s the light?’

  Finally David flashed on the torch to reveal Martin and Kitty opposite. They were standing rigid and locked together, straining back against the rope.

  ‘How long do we have to hold on?’ asked Martin, looking up at the light.

  David swivelled his head. Between them, the floor had completely given way, leaving a hole about two metres across. The torch beam caught Andrea’s pale face as she dangled in the middle.

  ‘Do you think you can pull her up?’ called David.

  ‘Not while she’s tied to you,’ said Martin.

  ‘Get me out of here!’ pleaded Andrea.

  ‘Shut up!’ snapped David. ‘I’m thinking.’ The rock was cutting into his arm. ‘Look, I’ll have to cut the rope,’ he said.

  ‘No!’ screamed Andrea.

  ‘No, listen!’ insisted David. ‘We can’t all pull you up. We’d be pulling in different directions. Martin, are you sure you and Kitty can take the weight?’

  ‘It’s the only way,’ said Martin. ‘What do you think, Kit?’

  ‘Come on,’ said Kitty. ‘Let’s just do it.’

  David groped for his knife, found it and sawed at the rope. It was difficult, because the rope was strong and the knife fairly blunt. At last he felt the fibres giving way.

  ‘Get ready!’ he called. ‘It’s going!’

  He heard Andrea give a little gasp as the rope snapped, and the rattle of stones falling past her. Kitty and Martin dug in their heels and held on grimly as she thudded against their side of the hole.