Terminal

by Roderick Gordon

  But then he also noticed something else about the spot they’d come through. ‘Hey, will you look at that! We made a fairy ring,’ he laughed. Around him was a perfect circle, nearly six feet in diameter. Not only had the long grass been cut through by whatever force had transported him and Elliott there – the area right in the centre of the circle had also been scooped out to such an extent that the frozen soil was visible. ‘Do you think that’s how all fairy rings are made?’ he suggested less than seriously.

  But Elliott was already at the top of the incline where she was crouching behind a low metal railing. She touched the top of her head in an on me hand signal, which immediately warned him to be on his guard. She’d found something. And as Will scrambled up the slope towards her, his Sten gun at the ready, she patted the air in another signal, indicating he could keep down.

  They were by the side of a wide road that swept around a corner to their right. It followed a slight gradient down to their left, and on the other side of this section of road there were buildings.

  ‘So we’re not in the countryside,’ Will whispered, as they both took in what lay before them. ‘We have been brought to London after all,’ he added.

  ‘Yes, I’d worked that out for myself,’ she whispered back.

  ‘But those are some houses,’ Will said. He knew from their size that he and Elliott had to be in one of the wealthier areas of the city.

  Elliott craned her neck to the left to see what was further down the road. ‘No lights anywhere,’ she whispered. She hadn’t much experience of Topsoil cities, and added, ‘That’s not usual, is it?’

  Will didn’t respond immediately, listening to the distant barking of a fox. ‘No, something’s definitely wrong.’ Almost directly across from them was a side road lined with more large houses. ‘Let’s take a look over there,’ he suggested, then peered up at the sky. ‘I’ve no idea how late or early it is, but we don’t want to be stuck out in the open when it gets light.’

  ‘Yep,’ Elliott said. ‘So cover me.’ She ran in a half crouch across to the corner of the road opposite, then kept watch as Will did the same. They tucked themselves in against a wall, glancing at the vehicles abandoned along the road, around which rubbish and even some articles of clothing were strewn.

  Will’s gaze fell on a sign. ‘Bishopswood Road?’ he whispered, trying to think if he’d heard of it before.

  ‘Mean anything to you?’ Elliott asked.

  Will shook his head. ‘No, but from the postcode, this is north London, but not as far north as Highfield.’

  ‘Been a fire in that one,’ Elliott said, pointing to the house opposite where heavy smoke shadows stained the white Georgian frontage.

  ‘What about the next house along – spot anything there?’ Will asked, squinting as he tried to see it through his lens.

  ‘If we want somewhere safe to stay, how about the place right behind us?’ Elliott suggested. ‘Nice high wall around it.’

  Will took a moment to consider the house, noting the gates that seemed to be firmly shut. ‘Sure. Let’s give it a closer look.’

  Once over the wall they crossed the paved drive, checking each window for signs of life. Will tried the front door, but it was locked, so they crept around to the back, on the way passing a large conservatory.

  They came to a back door with glass panels in the upper half, and positioned themselves flat against the wall on either side. Will tried the handle, but again it was firmly locked.

  ‘So … do we break the glass to get in?’ he posed. ‘What about the noise?’

  Elliott didn’t answer right away, and they both listened to the fox continuing to bark in the distance, and the bitterly cold wind as it raked the bare branches of the trees in the garden.

  ‘I’m bloody freezing,’ Will grumbled. ‘Typical, isn’t it? I’ve been moaning about the sun and the heat for weeks, and now I get this.’ He glanced up at the sky. ‘Complete darkness and brass-monkey weather.’

  ‘Come on – smash it,’ Elliott making up her mind. ‘We can’t stay out here.’

  ‘Breaking and entering – here I go again,’ Will muttered. He swung the metal stock of his Sten at one of the panes of glass, grimacing as the pieces landed on the floor inside with a clatter. Reaching through the hole he released the catch on the interior of the door. ‘That’s it. We’re in.’

  The hallway was panelled with dark wood, and hung with several chandeliers. Will and Elliott split up and worked their way methodically through the ground floor, then met up at the bottom of the stairs before doing the same with the bedrooms on the next floor. Will shook his head. ‘Talk about homes of the rich and famous. I’ve only seen places like this before on Mum’s TV programmes,’ he remarked.

  They chose the largest of the bedrooms and began to search it for warm clothes. Will opened a door in the corner, only to find that there was a walk-in wardrobe with beautifully made cedarwood shelves stacked high with men’s clothes. He called Elliott over and they helped themselves to whatever came to hand, donning jumpers and then another layer on top in an effort to keep warm.

  For the remainder of the night they took turns keeping guard at the doorway, while the other slept.

  Will had been right to get them under cover, as it wasn’t long before dawn broke. Turning his lens off, he gently shook Elliott awake. She had sunk into the sumptuous king-size bed, pulling the duvet right over her head. They both tiptoed downstairs, the light from outside allowing them to take in how extravagant the interior was.

  ‘This is nothing like your house,’ Elliott observed, standing on the polished marble tiles in the hallway as Will went into the large conservatory, which had a grand piano in it, surrounded by some rather thirsty-looking palm trees in large earthenware pots.

  ‘You’re saying,’ he laughed. ‘Which way’s the kitchen?’

  They found it – an incredibly expensive-looking room with white tiles everywhere and similarly white fittings. And in the first cupboard they checked they came across packets of chocolate digestive biscuits.

  Will wasted no time in tearing open one of these, passing Elliott a handful of biscuits. ‘A little soggy, but wow, taste that chocolate!’ Will mumbled through a mouthful. He stood in front of the twin sinks beneath the window, staring out at the garden, and continued to munch his way through the whole packet. He didn’t take much notice as Elliott went off to explore the house.

  Hearing a sound behind him, he spun round.

  A man, in his fifties with a grey beard and untidy hair, stood there with a handgun aimed straight at Will’s head. ‘What are you doing in my house?’ he demanded in a growl.

  With crumbs dropping from his mouth, Will tried to answer.

  ‘I see you’ve broken one of my windows. What are you? A bloody looter?’ the man said, his voice low with anger. ‘Some low-life up from the Archway come here to clear me out?’

  Will managed to swallow his mouthful. ‘No, not a looter,’ he replied.

  ‘If you don’t get off my property, so help me … I’ll put a bullet in you,’ the man threatened, taking a step back from Will as if giving him the option to leave without a fuss.

  Will sighed. ‘Why am I always the one who gets the gun pointed at him?’ he asked wearily.

  ‘What?’ the man asked in a rush of breath, amazed that Will was taking the situation so coolly.

  And Will was taking it coolly. After what he’d been through over the past couple of years, it took more than this to rattle him. Particularly because he’d noticed something. ‘So you’re going to shoot me with that poxy air pistol, are you? Then what?’ Will asked. ‘Because it’s not going to do much damage to me, and by the time you’ve cocked it and put a new pellet in, I’ll have cut you in half with my Sten.’ He turned slightly to allow the man a glimpse of the submachine gun slung over his shoulder.

  ‘That’s a Sten?’ the man said, looking markedly less confident.

  There was a click as Elliott did her party piece, slipping off the safety
on her rifle with the barrel prodding the man in the nape of the neck. ‘Need any help there, Will?’ she asked.

  ‘No, we’re fine,’ Will said. ‘Me and beardy man are just talking, aren’t we?’

  The man slowly lowered his air pistol, but regarded Will and then Elliott with some indignation. ‘If you’re going to nick my clothes, do you think you could take something other than my best suits? Those are both bespoke Savile Row, and damned expensive.’

  Will hadn’t paid much attention to what they’d found in the wardrobe, but now examined the grey suit jacket he was wearing, and the double-breasted blue suit that Elliott had picked out, with the sleeves and trouser legs rolled up so that it was a better fit. They were both very fine suits.

  ‘Sorry,’ Will said. ‘We didn’t come here to steal from you, but we were just both bloody freezing. It was early in the morning when we arrived, and we needed clothes and somewhere warm.’

  ‘Why? Where did you arrive from?’ the man enquired. ‘Because I haven’t heard a single vehicle come this way for weeks now.’

  Will nodded. ‘It’s a long story.’

  The man glanced past Will to look out through the windows into the garden. ‘Well, if you’re not intending to go back out there while it’s light – which would be a very fast way to get yourselves killed – I suggest you both follow me.’

  The man didn’t wait for a response as he walked straight past Elliott and left the kitchen, heading for a room towards the front of the house. Here he went over to a heavy tapestry on the wall behind a large dining table and lifted one corner to reveal the door hidden there. ‘Welcome to my lair,’ he said.

  Once Will and Elliott were down the steps, the man swung the thick metal door shut behind them, bolting it at the top and bottom. Switching on his torch, he then escorted them along a corridor, pointing at the various doors that led from it. ‘Cinema, wine cellar, and this is the bathroom. There’s been no electricity or gas for a month now, but the water seems to still be on.’

  He stopped beside a substantial door and slapped it with the palm of his hand. ‘And this is the panic room.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Elliott asked quickly.

  ‘It’s a safe room where you can lock yourself away in an emergency. I had it installed for my family after there was an armed robbery at a neighbour’s.’ The man was silent for a moment, as a shadow passed over his face. ‘I’m telling you about it because along with a telephone line direct to the police station, it had full access to the house CCTV system. And before the power went off for the last time, I was able to watch what was happening in the street …’

  ‘So what did you see?’ Will asked.

  The man shook his head. ‘There were things – I can’t really describe them – moving in the road, but it wasn’t so much what I saw, but what I heard that night. The screaming and the cries for help.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘It was terrible.’

  Then the man seemed to pull himself together as he continued along the corridor. ‘Anyway, these are a couple of storage rooms where I’ve stashed all the food, and this is where I’ve been living,’ he said, playing his torch on the double doors before swinging them open. ‘The games room.’

  ‘Cool,’ Will whispered as they entered. Lit by a paraffin lamp hissing away on a table in the centre, the room was almost the size of a basketball court.

  ‘This was an indulgence for my kids,’ the man said.

  At one end of the room stood a table tennis table and a large television with some video consoles. The other half of the room was less cluttered, with a bed pushed into the corner and several crates of clothes and books. ‘Amazing. So has this always been here?’ Will asked.

  The man shook his head. ‘I had the basement dug out when my family were still living here. He indicated the vents above their heads. ‘Although there’s been no electricity for the fans, fresh air still comes in through those.’ He indicated the ceiling with both hands. ‘You see, where we’re standing right now, we’re directly beneath the garden.’ Then he looked around the room. ‘When I heard all the screaming in the road, I’m ashamed to admit I ran straight down here. And I’ve been hiding here ever since.’

  ‘I don’t blame you,’ Will said.

  The man glanced in the direction of a radio beside the unmade bed. ‘I thought I’d wait for some news before I ventured outside, but all I can get are European stations, and they don’t seem to have any idea about what’s going on here in the UK.’ He removed the clothes from a couple of chairs for Will and Elliott, then perched on the edge of the bed as he continued to talk.

  The man’s name was David, and it was obvious that he was grateful for some company. He said he lived alone at the house as his wife had left him, taking the children with her. ‘They went six months ago, and I suppose I haven’t been out of the house much since. But when I—’

  ‘What’s this?’ Will interrupted him. He’d begun to wander around the room and had spotted an ancient-looking map in a frame on the wall. ‘Bishops Wood,’ he said, squinting at the name written across an area of woodland. Because the legend was Bifhops with an f instead of the first s, Will knew from what Dr Burrows had told him that it had to be several centuries old. ‘That’s interesting. We’re in Bishopswood Road, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, the name originated from an ancient wood. When the builders were using their JCB to dig out this basement, they uncovered some very old and very rotten pieces of timber, and the planners had to check that we weren’t destroying anything of archaeological importance.’ David turned to point at the wall directly behind him. ‘You see, in that direction, just across the main road, is the park where they believe the original Bishops Wood was situated.’

  ‘That’s where we were last night,’ Will said to Elliott. ‘So there was an ancient wood there?’ Will asked David.

  He nodded. ‘The person from National Heritage said it was some sort of Druidic site dating way back.’ David pulled a face. ‘And an intersection between two ley lines to boot, if you believe in all that.’

  ‘I think maybe I’m beginning to,’ Will said, eliciting a look from Elliott.

  David rubbed his hands together. ‘Well, I don’t know about you but I’m starting to seize up from the cold. I usually wrap myself in a couple of duvets at night to keep warm, but frequent cups of something hot also take the edge off. Can I interest anyone?’

  When David went off to make them both tea in one of the other rooms, Elliott turned to Will. ‘What’s all that about ley lines? What are they?’

  ‘My dad thought the theories about them were a load of codswallop. They’re supposed to be where the Earth’s energy is channelled or something,’ Will replied. ‘He had this book that said rituals often took place on them, and also some old monuments like Stonehenge had been built where they ran.’

  Elliott shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. So what are they exactly?’

  Will took a breath. ‘It all sounds pretty flaky, but the book said they marked where Neolithic people thought natural energy flows through the Earth. Magical energy, if you want to call it that.’ He smiled. ‘If we came through on the intersection that David mentioned, maybe they were right. Maybe these ley lines are a source of power, from your tower in the centre of the world?’

  David returned balancing three mugs of steaming tea on a tray, and they began to drink them appreciatively. ‘So tell me – I’m dying to know how you came to be here?’ he asked.

  Will quickly told him about the Styx, and the Colony, leaving out anything about the inner world and New Germania because it would have been too much for the man to take on board.

  ‘So you climbed out on the surface a stone’s throw away,’ David said. ‘Given what’s been happening around here, I suppose I’m prepared to believe anything. But where are you heading for next?’

  Will deferred to Elliott with a wave of his hand. ‘Ask her – she’s the one with the plan,’ he said.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The light w
as fading rapidly as they stepped out into the garden. Will and Elliott were wearing more of David’s clothes – corduroy trousers and thick trench coats over jumpers – this time taken with his blessing.

  They had waited for nightfall, then said goodbye to him and left the basement through the door in the dining room. The smell of burning laced the crisp air as they stole across the back of the house. Will peered at the lawn underfoot as they went, thinking how strange it was that David was just below, hiding away in his modern-day version of a cave in the hope that everything would somehow return to normal again. Will wondered how many others were doing the same all over the country.

  ‘Just a second,’ Will said, rummaging right down into the bottom of one of the side pockets in his Bergen. He smiled as he found what he’d been looking for and, as though he was about to perform a magic trick, produced a small black box with great flourish.

  ‘Is that what I th—?’ Elliott asked, peering at the box, which was the size of a pack of cards with a wire antenna trailing from it.

  ‘Sure is,’ he interrupted her. ‘I completely forgot I still had any beacons left until I was getting Drake’s lens out.’ Will held up the electronic device. ‘This was a spare in case we needed more of them to mark the route to the inner world.’ He found the tiny micro switch next to the antenna and moved it over. ‘There,’ he said. ‘I’ve activated it.’

  Elliott frowned at the beacon. ‘Is that such a good idea?’

  Will shrugged. ‘Short of slogging all the way up to Parry’s estate in Scotland – which might be a total waste of time because he’s probably never gone back there – we’ve got no means of letting him or Eddie know we’re Topsoil again, have we?’ Will lobbed the transmitter a short distance up in the air and caught it again. ‘But you never know – they might pick up the signal put out by this. And if they do, it’ll lead them straight to us.’