by Ruth Fox
“Is everyone okay?” Zach called, coughing as some of the resulting dust trickled into the cabin.
“Yeah,” said Ryder.
“Uh-huh,” said Lex.
“Fine,” said Morton.
Their narrow view was obscured by dust, but it cleared in moments. They were looking through a new hole on the Wall. Straight to the Other Side.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“This is incredible,” said Lex in wonder, after Monster-boy had slipped her glasses back on for her. “It’s like another world.”
Monster-boy was silent, and so was Zach. They looked at the falling-down buildings, the sagging fences, the rotting garbage in the street. It was hard to see anything in the dull light coming from the few streetlights that weren’t broken, and their vision was further obscured by the yellow smog that crept towards the engine of the bulldozer. There were a few houses nearby, some with windows lit but more boarded over and shrouded in darkness; they were tall and narrow and covered with more graffiti. Fernzy had been here, too, Zach noticed. Everything he could see looked like it had been built a hundred years ago. It probably had.
“How do the streetlamps still work?” Zach asked. “And the lights inside the houses?”
“Silver,” Monster-boy explained. “When I was younger, I helped my grandfather line some of the wiring in our apartment with thin sheets of silver. It worked really well until someone broke in and took it all.”
Already, their presence had been noticed. Figures were emerging from the doors and looking through the windows. Strangely twisted faces with misshapen mouths, upturned noses and high foreheads peered at them curiously.
Monsters.
“Go,” said Zach to Morton, and Monster-boy pulled on the slider to lower the shovel and put his foot down on the accelerator. They weren’t going fast, but they were going steadily, and the old houses with their overgrown lawns trundled past on either side. “You remember the way?”
Monster-boy nodded. He turned left at the next corner, and then right at the next. They clipped a parked car, but the heavy shovel of the bulldozer knocked it aside easily—it had been burnt-out and stripped of its tyres, seats and doors, Zach saw as it slid past his window. Someone had tried to modify it by adding propellers to the rear. “Incredible,” he said. “I didn’t know you had cars.”
Monster-boy smiled. “Before the Wall was built, the Silvershine Motor Company had a factory near the harbour.” He pointed a claw towards the foggy stretch of road ahead of them. “There’s still a factory here on the South Side. They line the engine with silver. It shields it from the smog. But that’s expensive, obviously, and so is petrol. Hardly anyone has a working car now, except for . . .” he paused here, his face troubled as some memory clouded his eyes. “Except for those in high places.”
Abruptly, they started to slow. The engine sputtered and coughed. The yellow cloud around the front of the bulldozer was growing thicker. At any moment it could stall.
“There it is!” said Lex.
There was a fence in front of them, and a locked gate. The chain-link fencing was the newest structure Zach had seen yet, though beside the gate was an older bluestone pillar, with a rust-stained sign attached: Grotto Silver Works. The eye-symbol was embossed beside the name.
“This is it,” said Monster-boy quietly.
As the bulldozer wheezed and shuddered they all stared at the fence. Beyond it, figures were pointing and scrambling. Thanks to their dramatic entrance in South Silvershine, they’d been warned of their arrival . . . but obviously, knowing what to do about it was a different matter altogether.
“Are you ready?” Monster-boy’s voice was just above a whisper.
“Are you?” Zach asked.
In reply, Monster-boy floored the accelerator. With its last ounce of failing power, the bulldozer leapt forwards and plunged them straight through the gates.
❖ ❖ ❖
The shock seemed to be greater than when they hit the Wall, because the gate didn’t crumble. It bounced and stretched, then finally tore off at its hinges, hanging sideways.
The bulldozer stuttered and the engine died at last. The instrument panel went dark. The four friends sat there, stunned, looking out at the monsters who were crouched defensively nearby, also astonished.
Then:
“Hoy, there!” called a deep-voiced monster, coming forwards to stand in front of the bulldozer. “What are you up to?”
“They’re kids,” called another monster. “It’s a bunch of kids.”
“Three humans.” The voice sounded a little bit awed. “And one of ours.”
Zach strained to see the monsters behind their torchlights. He could make out two tall figures, one with a bright red crest like a Mohawk hairdo running from his nose up over his forehead, the other with slitted nostrils and a mouth that looked far too wide. They looked fierce. Zach wouldn’t want to meet either of them alone.
Monster-boy opened the door of the bulldozer cabin and jumped out. He squared his shoulders, removed his sunglasses, and stepped forwards, performing his role perfectly.
“I caught ’em,” he said, and there was a tone in his voice Zach hadn’t heard before—a hard edge. He recognised it as similar to the way Fernzy had spoken. But in Morton’s voice it sounded . . . older. More grown-up. And nothing like the quiet, reserved Monster-boy he’d come to know. Mean and tough, Zach had told him. It seemed like Monster-boy knew more about being mean and tough than he’d let on. “I’m bringing ’em in.”
“You?” said the monster on the left—Zach was thinking of him as Slit-nose—with a snort and a wave of his torch. “You’re bringing in three humans? I think you mean to hand ’em over to us, little cub.”
“No way,” said Monster-boy instantly. He stepped forwards and suddenly Zach’s kitchen knife was in his hands. His claws were extended. He continued in that cold, intense voice. “These are my catches. Everyone is going to know—I brought them in.” He waved his free hand at the bulldozer, daring anyone to dispute its presence.
The crest-headed monster on the right held up his hands. “Only thinking of your own wellbeing, little cub. Three humans are a lot to take on, eh? Perhaps we can help.”
“And take a cut?” Morton shook his head. “Go get your own.”
The monsters didn’t come any closer, but neither did they turn away. “We plan on it. The humans are causing a commotion near the Wall—it’s an excellent distraction. A good night for hunting.”
“They’ve been getting more careful lately,” sniggered Slit-nose. “It makes the hunt so much more fun.”
“A real challenge.”
“And when we catch them—proof of our superiority!”
Both monsters looked at the trio of humans sitting in the cabin. Zach, Ryder, and Lex didn’t have to make much of an effort to look scared.
“They’re not drugged?” Crest-head asked. “No sedatives? How did you manage to get them all?”
“Huh,” Monster-boy replied noncommittally, then held up his knife. “They came because they know what’s good for ’em.”
“Respect to you, cub,” said Crest-head at last. “Donovan will be pleased.”
Morton inclined his head in acceptance of this praise, but didn’t lower the knife. Instead, he motioned it at Zach and Lex and Ryder, up in the cabin. “Move,” he growled through the open door. “Quick!”
Zach flinched, not liking how close Monster-boy was holding that knife, or the way its reflection glinted in his shining eyes. Zach’s reaction only drew laughter from their monster audience.
❖ ❖ ❖
Zach shuffled towards the bulldozer’s door. Slit-nose reached into the cabin and gripped him tightly around the upper arm, then with a swift movement swung him up and over his shoulder. Zach felt something like a sack of potatoes as
he hung there, helpless. He felt every jolt, every movement of the wiry muscles under the monster’s scaly skin before Slit-nose dumped him on the rubble-strewn ground.
Blood rushed to Zach’s head. For a moment he could see only a pattern of white and grey dots. Then the shroud drifted aside and he realised it had started to rain—or perhaps, here, it had been raining all evening. There were muddy puddles glittering darkly, thick with the rainbow designs of spilled oil.
Everything was shrouded in the thick yellow smog, and the smell of rotten eggs caught in the back of his throat. The chain-link fence ran all the way around the edges of the space, topped with barbed wire, except where it met with several long brick buildings at the far end. Chimneys stretched up into the sky, but no smoke belched from them now. These were clearly ancient, and crumbling to bits, but there were also a few newer galvanised metal sheds tucked between them. There was one door that he could see, and there was a silhouetted figure standing in front of it, a short, squat, bulky figure, holding a long object over his shoulder. As Zach’s sight cleared he saw others, all similar in shape and size, gathered along the fence.
One of these short, squat monsters was talking to Crest-head. He was wearing ripped black trousers and an army-green shirt that had obviously seen better days, as well as a very mean expression.
“Three at once?” the guard-monster snarled. He stepped closer to Zach, and Zach saw, then, that the thing he was carrying was actually a gun.
A real, live gun.
Zach knew what they looked like, of course, from photos in books and movies. One of the characters on Beyond the Wall had carried a handgun for a few episodes, before it had gone mysteriously missing and been used in a crime, and the character had ended up in jail, terribly remorseful about the whole thing. But Zach had never seen one in real life, certainly not one coated in silver, as this one was. And this monster, unlike his TV show counterpart, wasn’t thinking twice about the deadly object he was holding.
These must be the Trolls Monster-boy had talked about.
They certainly hadn’t sounded that scary, even after Morton had told him that goblins and half-dragons weren’t the only monsters in Frederick’s Tales of Magic and Enchantment that actually existed on the South Side of the Wall. Seeing one was a different matter.
No wonder Morton was so afraid of them. They looked as if nasty was what they were on a good day.
“It’s a good catch, isn’t it, Miles?” said Crest-head, looking down at Zach. “They’re older ones, too. Harder to get, the bigger ones, but they last longer in the Testing Chamber. Very impressive.”
“Huh,” said the gun-carrying monster, Miles. He didn’t sound impressed at all. “Big—small—they’re all just humans. Stupid and slow and so very”—he kicked out a clawed foot, catching Zach in the shoulder and sending him rolling into the nearest puddle—“weak.”
Zach held in his moan of protest. He didn’t want to give this monster the satisfaction of yelling in pain, but the thick hide of his foot had delivered a pretty severe blow, and Zach felt the cold ache that he knew would result in a hefty bruise.
Crest-head was busy lifting out another of Zach’s friends—Ryder, this time. He dumped him next to Zach. Lex came next, and as she skidded on the wet grass and her glasses slipped sideways, she let out a swear-word.
Things had suddenly turned very, very serious. Morton had his knife, but in comparison to Miles’s silver gun, it was a pathetic, slow, unwieldy weapon.
Monster-boy saw this too. Sensibly, he lowered the knife to his side.
“Well, now, he’s got some sense in him!” said Miles. “Where’d you come from, eh?”
Monster-boy didn’t back down. Instead he snarled, showing his glittering teeth, and narrowed his eyes. “East Street.”
“Where on East Street, then?”
Monster-boy shrugged. “I live in Avery House.”
This evidently meant something to the monsters. They all glanced at one another, then back at Morton. “You’re serious?”
“Yes,” said Morton. He sounded just a little bit hesitant. Zach knew he was telling the truth about where he had lived when he was on the South Side, but it looked like he hadn’t known that this meant anything to anyone else. Still, he recovered well enough that the other monsters didn’t appear to notice.
“Bertram Highborn’s grandson,” said Crest-head. “Yeah?”
“Highborn,” said Morton, tasting the word in his mouth. Then, with more conviction, he said, “Yes. I’m Morton Highborn.” He pulled up his sleeve and revealed the wristband.
Crest-head, Slit-nose and Miles all stared at it.
“I think,” said Slit-nose, “that Donovan is going to want to meet you personally.”
Morton tilted his head back and folded his arms. “And I think you’d better take me to Donovan.”
Zach’s heart almost froze in his chest. What was this? What was Monster-boy doing? They were supposed to stick together. Monster-boy was supposed to insist on guarding them until they got inside. Then they’d find the kids and make their escape. This wasn’t the plan!
Zach tried to catch Monster-boy’s gaze. He was trying to warn Monster-boy not to do this, not to split up, not to betray them. He was hoping that Monster-boy could give him some sort of sign that he knew what he was doing. But with Zach’s cheek pressed firmly against the cold wet dirt, Morton either couldn’t see Zach’s desperate expression, or he was ignoring him deliberately.
Zach suspected it was the latter, and that scared him.
“Pick them up,” Slit-nose said. “Pat them down for weapons.”
The patting-down process was rougher than it needed to be. None of them had anything in their pockets—except for Zach’s chocolate-coated sultanas, which Miles sniffed, then tossed aside in disgust. As Slit-nose felt over his wrist, Zach twisted his hand, bunching up his sleeve. The hard shape of his watch was hidden in the folds.
He felt certain Slit-nose would pick up on his movement, but just then a sudden burst of noise made all the monsters look towards the fence. There were lights out there, bouncing down the streets, and the noise of running feet and shouting. It took Zach a moment to realise it must be Mr. Majewski and his followers.
“Monsters away! We don’t want you to stay!”
“What’s going on?” Slit-nose asked.
“Not our problem. Not yet, anyway,” Miles replied, patting his gun as if it was a lively pet that would soon be let off its leash.
Slit-nose said, “We’ll take them to the freezer.”
“You’ll come with me,” Miles said to Monster-boy, who nodded coolly. Zach stared at him, still trying to get some sign—anything—from him, but Morton sheathed the knife in his belt and fell in alongside Miles.
Zach watched them go helplessly. They crossed the open space and vanished into the shadows between the long buildings on the other side. But he didn’t have much time to ponder where they were going, because Crest-head was scowling down at him. “On your feet,” he said, and hoisted Zach upright.
He swayed a little, feeling as though he might vomit, but fortunately the urge subsided. He supposed it would be good if he did look sick, though. They would need to do all they could to keep up the ruse now; if Monster-boy spoke of their plans to infiltrate the place the monsters were taking the kidnapped kids, they’d all be in trouble.
But Morton wouldn’t do that. Surely he wouldn’t.
Or maybe, now that he knew his last name, now he knew his grandfather had been someone important, he’d chosen to join the other side.
“Come on!” Slit-nose said, chivvying Ryder and Lex into motion and they all walked between the monsters, in the direction Miles and Monster-boy had taken—towards one of the newer galvanised iron sheds, set on a concrete base, with several rusted roller-doors running down one side. The building w
as crowned with boxy air ducts curled over like wilting flowers. It was too new inside to be part of the original silver mine or smelting works, and must have been built later.
Inside, the roof was high and the walls distant. Long rows of metal shelves stretched overhead, forming aisles almost wide enough to be city streets.
A few dim lights hung from the ceiling, stuttering on and off and making the whole place seem even bigger. There were a few crates stacked nearby, but they were splintered and crushed, their contents long since gone. There were remains of other boxes on the shelves, torn and sagging, even the cardboard nibbled on by some hungry creature. Zach saw more evidence of these smaller beasts as they were led forwards—skitterings and rustlings, and the glittering flashes of small beady eyes watching from the shadows.
He was glad Ryder and Lex were here. He didn’t think he could have forced himself to keep walking if he’d been facing this alone.
They reached the far wall, stopping in front of a pair of metal doors. There was a lock on the wall instead of a button. Crest-head exposed his wrist, where there was a silver wristband identical to Monster-boy’s. He pressed the symbol into the lock, and the doors slid open, revealing an elevator car. The two monsters stepped inside, pushing Zach, Ryder and Lex before them.
Zach tried to keep Lex and Ryder in view but that wasn’t easy when Crest-head shoved him into the corner and held him there—quite easily—with one hand on his bound wrists. But at least he could hear Lex. Now that the Trolls with their guns were out of sight, she had regained her confidence.
“You could be a bit more gentle, you know! Geez. That’s my hair!”
Zach could see Slit-nose hit a button on the panel to one side of the door. The numbers went from L19 all the way to L0. Slit-nose hit the button labelled L5.