Fire and Water

by Simon Guerrier

  Danny felt his heart pounding.

  “Here, I think,” Lester whispered, out of breath, and they placed the dead man down on the ground. Without further comment, he led them back to the lodge, where the second body still lay on the raised platform by the broken drainpipe. This time Lester took his ankles, Danny getting the mess of the man’s bloody head all down his front.

  He only had one clean shirt left.

  They placed the second body beside the first, then returned to the lodge. Danny didn’t know how soon it would be before the park’s creatures picked up on the scent of blood, and he didn’t want to be there to find out. He felt a pang of remorse for the abrupt way these men had been dealt with, the way their bodies would be picked clean. But Lester seemed resolute as he poured them another couple of brandies.

  “It was them or us,” he said as they chinked glasses.

  “Yeah,” Danny said. “Law of the jungle.”

  A vehicle pulled into the car park about twenty minutes later. They watched from the window as Ted emerged, looking around nervously before he approached the lodge.

  Lester moved silently up to the door of the mess, waiting just behind it. Ted came in slowly, eyes wide in the darkness. And Lester raised a pistol to his head.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes, Mr Lester. Brought you that beer you wanted.”

  “Good — Danny, check that he’s not carrying a gun.”

  Danny came over. Ted met his eyes and he shrugged in a what-can-you-do kind of way. He began to frisk the man.

  Danny retrieved the gun, a chunky, much-used Colt. Ted didn’t appear to have any other weapons on him. Lester seemed satisfied and lowered his own gun.

  “They were right,” he said. “We had company.”

  “Least they didn’t have you.” Ted smiled grimly.

  “We left the bodies outside. Now we need to get out of here.”

  “You’re going home then. That’s good.”

  “We will when there’s a flight,” Danny said. “But for the moment we’re stuck here, and as long as that’s the case...”

  “I can get you out of the game park,” Ted interrupted. “But that’s all.”

  “Fine,” Lester said flatly. “Then drop us somewhere near the mine.”

  Ted stared at him. It took him a moment to find his voice.

  “You know how many people they got there? You won’t get in through the gates.”

  “You don’t know Lester. He’s very persistent,” Danny assured him. “Got a natural air of authority. It’s something they teach you at public school.”

  “Will you do it?” Lester asked brusquely, ignoring Danny’s remark. He was a man on a mission.

  Ted’s eyes narrowed as he thought it over.

  “You know what happens to me if they find out?”

  Lester nodded. “I do.”

  “We’re your only chance to stop whatever it is that’s going on,” Danny said.

  “Yeah, and you don’t stand a chance. Not if I don’t help you.” Ted grinned. “You finish all the brandy? If we’re doing this, I’m gonna need a drink.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  They made their way into the dark railway tunnel, following the beam of Becker’s torch. The huge Sauroposeidon had smashed all the lights as it pushed its way through, and broken glass crunched underfoot. There was also a strange stink of machinery, all grit and electricity, the odour of a century of trains.

  Connor stopped for a moment to put down the large cardboard box they had lugged from the pet store on the far side of the car park. Massaging his sore fingers, he admired the ancient brickwork of the tunnel. Somewhere up ahead it met up with the Thames Tunnel, running under the river from Rotherhithe to Wapping.

  Connor and his old friends Tom and Duncan had once done a walking tour of the tunnel, organised by the local museum. They’d been less interested in the history than in just getting to explore the cool place, but Connor still remembered some of what their guide had told them. The tunnel had been built by Victorian engineer Isambard Kingdom Brunel — the first major project he worked on — and back then it had been for pedestrians, livestock and carts.

  As most animals don’t like being led into tunnels, there was a bend in it so it was impossible to see all the way through. And that same dislike was probably going to make it even more difficult to get the Sauroposeidon juveniles back through the anomaly.

  He lifted the heavy box again and hurried to catch up with the others as they ventured further into the darkness. Mice scurried across the gravel in front of them, trying to keep out of the torchlight. On the walls he glimpsed crude graffiti.

  A little further and they could see the anomaly, shards of orange and yellow light twisting and turning slowly around one another. Connor put down the box again and reached for his handheld detector. He shivered; something about this anomaly didn’t feel quite right.

  Connor tried to make sense of the readings on his detector.

  “This isn’t right.”

  “Why?” Abby asked peering over his shoulder.

  “What’s the problem?” Becker demanded, striding towards them.

  “The readings are all wrong,” Connor said.

  “But we haven’t done anything to it yet,” Becker said, frowning.

  “Could it be a new kind of anomaly?” Abby suggested. “Or the weather? The anomalies have been a bit different recently anyway. That G-rex we fought at the airport came through one that was huge.”

  “It’s just not right,” Connor insisted.

  “It never is,” Becker muttered impatiently. Then he added more loudly, “We need to get a move on or the creatures are going to try their luck with the barricade.”

  “And we need to get them out of the rain,” Abby said. “Connor, the anomaly’s working, isn’t it? They’ll go through okay.”

  Connor studied the readings again.

  “Oh sure, it’s working. It’s just... weird.”

  Becker spoke into his earpiece.

  “Start moving them up this way — now.”

  Abby tore open the box Connor had brought with them. There were smaller boxes inside, each one showing the same cartoon picture of a grinning cat. She ripped the top off one packet and wafted it round the tunnel. Tiny grey flakes trailed in the air, giving off a faint, grassy smell. Abby threw the packet down the tunnel, back the way they had come, then helped herself to another, and began moving down the tunnel, building up a trail to the anomaly. Connor’s nose began to twitch as he watched her.

  “But what if they don’t like it?” he asked her.

  Abby shrugged. “You’ve seen the size of their noses. Let’s hope this smells weird enough for them at least to come take a look. Cats can’t resist catnip.”

  “But these aren’t cats,” Connor said.

  “You said they were just the same.”

  “No I didn’t. If this doesn’t work, you can’t blame me. And you can explain to the pet shop why we helped ourselves to all their supplies.”

  Abby grinned at him and hurled another open packet up the tunnel behind them. Unlike the bait they had used on the crocodilians, this scent was in no danger of dissipating. Here in the stillness of the tunnel, the smell hung thickly in the air.

  “Think that should be enough. Don’t want to use all of it at once.”

  Connor picked up the box.

  “We should probably get out of here, then. We don’t want to be crushed in the stampede.”

  They made their way quickly back the way they had come, and out into the grey drizzle. It was getting late in the evening and the light was fading fast. Connor really didn’t fancy messing with the giant creatures in the dark.

  “Wilcock,” Becker said sharply into his earpiece, “how are you getting on?”

  Connor watched his face, anxiously trying to gauge the answer from his expression, and he saw Abby doing the same. Then they heard a gentle lowing coming from further down the line. They turned, and could just see the first of t
he enormous young Sauroposeidons coming into view.

  “It’s working!” Connor said breathlessly. “I think it is my plan.”

  Abby grinned back. “But you needed me to help you..”

  “We’re a team.”

  “Batman and Robin.”

  “Yeah,” he said. Then he cocked his head at her. “Am I Batman?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Maybe, if you’re good.”

  Becker rolled his eyes and stepped back from them. Connor decided that meant he had licence to flirt as much as he liked. But when he turned back to Abby, he found her watching the military man, her eyes open wide.

  With a sinking feeling, Connor looked to see Becker staring into the dark railway tunnel. Something rumbled from within.

  “Um,” Connor said nervously, “that doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Becker murmured. Taking a step forward he grabbed Abby and Connor by the arms and threw himself — and them — to the side. Connor almost dropped the box of catnip. They’d barely got clear of the tunnel entrance when two huge Sauroposeidons charged out into the evening rain.

  “Oh crap,” Connor said, standing on the verge as they passed. “That’s something we didn’t think of.”

  “The catnip attracted creatures from the other side of the anomaly,” Becker said disgustedly.

  “Oops,” Connor said. “Okay, Abby, it was definitely your idea.” He turned, but Abby was already on the move, running off down the verge towards the other Sauroposeidons and the army vehicles that rumbled behind them.

  “Hey!” he yelled after her. “I didn’t mean it! Joke!”

  Sarah sat at a desk in view of the ADD, looking over the notes she’d made on her laptop. Samuels had asked the technicians and soldiers to leave her to the operations room so that she could complete her work. She felt only mildly guilty about that, glad for the silence and head space, but knowing they all had important projects of their own.

  Her job was to match the creatures with the monsters in myths and legends. There’d been anachronous sightings throughout human history, but only now was the ARC making rational sense of what was happening. Slowly they were putting the jigsaw together. Every creature they encountered, required investigation and research, and that information had to be assessed and analysed. It sometimes seemed an impossible task just to keep up with each new incident. But now they might be able to share the load. She looked over what she had written on the screen.

  “This proposal is divided into two sections,” it said. “First, why we should go public concerning the anomalies and creatures. Second, how we break the news.

  She read over the proposal again, tweaking and moving sentences around. The civil service seemed to like nothing longer than two pages: three succinct bullet points on page one and some explanation on page two. Apparently, it made it easier for them to make a decision, but it also required a lot more effort on her part to keep her argument focused. She usually needed more than two pages just for all her endnotes.

  At last she was happy with a first draft of what promised to usher in a new age for the ARC. She hit the ‘print’ key, realising as she did so that she didn’t know where the nearest printer was. She looked around and up at the balcony in front of Lester’s office. From where she sat, she couldn’t see inside, but she thought she could hear Samuels working at his own laptop.

  No, she realised, what she could hear was her proposal printing out up there.

  Sarah got to her feet, a little annoyed with herself. She’d wanted to read the pages over once again before handing them over, keenly aware of how easy it was to miss things when proofing them on screen. But Samuels would have the proposal in front of him now, might even have made a decision one way or another before she had got up there to see him.

  Nothing to do about it but face the music.

  So she adjusted her linen blouse and waistcoat, swept her hand through her long, dark hair, taking deep breaths to prepare herself for the task of selling her ideas. And just as she stepped away from the ADD, the alarm went off. The siren wailed loudly throughout the whole ARC building, and the lights flashed pinkish orange. The screen already showed the anomaly at Surrey Quays that Connor and Abby had gone to investigate. But now there was another anomaly.

  She sighed and reached over the keyboard to turn off the noise. The light still flashed and swirled, reflecting off the screens. Her nimble fingers fluttered over the keys to home in on the signal.

  The central of the five screens showed an aerial photograph of the south of England. It blurred, honing in on Greater London; then Central London; then a particular section of the city...

  Sarah gasped.

  She was staring down at the domed roof of the building she was in.

  That was when she noticed that it wasn’t just the pink-and-orange alarm lights that were flashing. She turned slowly around, and then arched her back to look up again at the balcony of Lester’s office. As clear as day, she could see the twisting, broken-glass anomaly hovering right over his desk. Light reflected in the plate glass windows of the office, and rebounded all around the operations room.

  Sarah pressed a button on the keyboard of the ADD.

  “Security.” A man’s bored-sounding voice came from a speaker beneath the five screens.

  “This is Dr Page. Send a unit to the operations room. There’s an anomaly in Lester’s office.”

  “Saves us a bit of petrol,” the man replied with unexpected humour. “We’ll be with you shortly.”

  By rights, she should wait for the soldiers to arrive — she knew better than to approach an anomaly on her own. But what about Samuels? What if he was still up there?

  “Mr Samuels?” she called up to the balcony. There was no reply, but she thought she heard movement. Perhaps he was hurt.

  “I’m coming up,” she called to him, making her way to the walkway. As she headed up the slope she found she was shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement. She thought of turning back, of going to find a tranquilliser gun, but she had barely any experience with the things, and armed she probably risked causing more damage to herself than to anything coming out of the anomaly.

  Anyway, there were trained professionals on their way.

  Despite her fears, she felt a thrill run through her at having an anomaly of her own to investigate. Reaching the entrance to the office, she peered inside. The phenomenon twisted and twinkled behind Lester’s desk, the papers and files scattered all around it as if it had caused a small explosion.

  There was no one in the room.

  “Mr Samuels?” she called again from the doorway, hesitant to actually step through. Something behind the desk stirred, it made a noise that might have been a moan.

  “Tom? Are you there? Are you all right?”

  There was no response. She peered over her shoulder, back down at the operations room, and wondered why the soldiers hadn’t arrived yet.

  Again, something moaned softly behind the desk.

  She took a step forward and stopped, then took a deep breath and walked confidently over to the desk.

  The moaning was coming from beneath the anomaly.

  “Tom?” she said, walking slowly around. “There are soldiers on their way. Are you okay?”

  And a creature leapt out at her.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Abby found the best way to run across the sloping verge beside the railway line was to aim upwards. It made her a bit more sure-footed and compensated for the occasional slip and slide. It was still hard going though, and she felt pleased with herself for sticking with her kick-boxing exercise regime, however much her brother teased her about it.

  To her right, the massive Sauroposeidons crowded into the valley of the railway line. The two newcomers entwined their incredibly long, slender necks round the others, in some kind of friendly greeting. They lowed at each other mournfully, as if discussing the misery of the rain — or the death of their mother. Abby felt an awful pang of guilt as she ran on, heading f
or the convoy of army trucks and cars that blocked them from getting any further south.

  “Ma’am.” Wilcock saluted as she reached his 4×4. “How can we assist you?”

  “You can get out,” she told him. Wilcock glanced at the soldier sitting next to him, then turned back to her.

  “Sorry?”

  “Get out of the car, soldier!” she snapped at him. “That’s an order.”

  The two soldiers quickly scrambled out into the rain, and Abby decided she liked her newfound authority. She jumped up into the driving seat, adjusting the dial at her hip to bring the seat nearer to the pedals. Once she was comfortable, she smiled sweetly at Wilcock and his comrade.

  “Thank you,” she said, and put her foot down.

  The 4×4 bucked forward, tyres scrunching on the gravel of the railway line. She honked the horn and the huge creatures turned their necks to look back at her. Abby yanked on the wheel, skidding the car hard to the left so that it bounced against the rails. The impact threw her into the air and she hit the ceiling with a thump. She rubbed the top of her head with one hand, and yanked the car left once more. This time she got the angle right. The vehicle bounced its left wheels over the top of the rail, then landed straddling it.

  Bouncing along, Abby honked the horn again, coming up fast on the massive dinosaurs. They lowered their heads to scrutinise her as she approached. She imagined the thoughts slowly forming in their dinosaur brains as they rather resentfully shuffled themselves out of her way. She sped through, hardly able to steer around them while her 4×4 straddled the rail. Only when she’d got past them did she let out the breath she’d been holding.

  “What are you doing?” Connor demanded as she pulled up in front of the mouth of the tunnel.

  “Put the box in the back,” she told him. “Quickly, before any more of them come through.”

  “Okay, okay.” Connor ran round to the back of the 4×4 and struggled to open the hatch. Becker hurried to assist him.