“That sounds like…” began Alkus.
“…Digger, by gollopers!” finished Podge, in Snick and Snock fashion.
“I’ll go and check,” said Chuck, drawing breath past his bared teeth.
“All right,” said Alkus, “but hold on to the end of the rope.”
The groundhog set off with the rope end between his teeth, Alkus paying out the slack behind him as he went. The animal’s rotund form quickly disappeared into the gloom. They waited in silence, eyes straining into the darkness. The coil of rope in Alkus’s hands got smaller and smaller and had almost run out completely when they heard a cry and a thud from the darkness as though someone had been hit.
“Take that, you monster!” It was Digger. Stifling a desire to cry out with joy, they all ran quietly forward, stumbling over each other in their haste.
“Why did you—ow!—hit me?” came Chuck’s pained voice.
“Chuck? Sorry, Chuck, didn’t know it was you. Expecting the Creepscreech I was.” Digger was all apologies. “Who’s that?” he suddenly asked the darkness anxiously.
“It’s only us,” said Alkus, lighting a lantern. The sudden flare of light hurt their eyes for a second; then they got a good look at a disheveled and bloodied but still feisty Digger, and at poor Chuck, who was tenderly feeling his punched snout and knuckling tears away from his eyes.
Forgetting the danger they were in, they gathered in a circle around Digger and all began talking at the same time. What happened? Did the Creepscreech bite you? How big is it? Where is it now? Did you fight it off? Poor Digger was almost ashamed to admit that he hadn’t been close to the Creepscreech at all, that he had only seen its eyes in the distance and that the cut on his head wasn’t a bite from the creature’s terrible fangs.
“I gashed it when the ground I hit,” said the mole, feeling the top of his head gingerly. “It seems now to have stopped bleeding. I called and called but only an echo replied. And then the monster thundered around the bend. Oh, I was sure I was done for. In the dark I felt something sticking from the wall. I grabbed it and pulled, thinking it was something I could as a weapon use, but all just went black and I was covered with shooting stars. The Creepscreech went silent, but I did not know if it had stopped or was maybe sliddering toward me in the dark.” Digger shuddered as he recalled the fear and despair he had felt at finding himself alone in this awful place. “That was why I punched you. I thought maybe you were it.” He looked apologetically at Chuck, who was gently massaging the end of his muzzle.
They were all delighted to see Digger safe and sound and began bombarding him with questions, but Alkus decided it would be better to continue the discussion in the safety of one of their own tunnels and began hustling them back the way they had come.
Meanwhile Mouse was examining this tunnel. He felt the smoothness of the walls. It wasn’t earth; it was…stone. This Creepscreech must be quite a brute if it could chew through stone. He didn’t have much time to puzzle about it, however, because coming toward them, cutting off their retreat, was a cluster of dancing lights.
Alkus quickly blew out the lantern and they huddled together in the dark. As the lights came nearer, Mouse and the Undergardeners retreated as silently as they could. Back over the sharp stones they went. Back past where Digger had been knocked flat by a shower of stars. Mouse stumbled and, putting out his hands to steady himself, found what he thought was an opening to another tunnel. He pulled everyone in, but to his horror the opening didn’t lead anywhere—it was just a little alcove a few feet deep. It was too late to escape because now the lights were close, clustered around where Digger had seen the shooting stars.
“Here’s the problem,” said a voice.
“The switch is open,” said another.
There was a clunk, a few sparks, and pale blue lights lit the tunnel. There was a squeal and the eyes of the Creepscreech opened and began to move closer. The Undergardeners shivered with fear.
“It’s coming,” they chattered.
“It’s seen us,” they cried.
“We’re done for,” they whimpered.
“What’ll we do, Mouse?” they pleaded.
Mouse began to laugh. A quiet chuckle at first, which grew in volume as the monster thundered toward them. It became louder as it got closer, gathering speed as it came. Then it screeched past in a swirling blast of cold air and dust. The dust got in his throat and stopped Mouse’s laughter briefly, but after a couple of coughs, he started again. All the Undergardeners were clinging to him— and one another—with their eyes tightly closed. Alkus was the first to open hers. She glared at Mouse. “Have you gone… why are you laughing?”
“We’re in a tunnel. A train tunnel,” Mouse managed to gasp. “The Creepscreech is a train. Look, there are the tracks.”
The three workers who had closed the big electricity switch were walking away from them between the tracks with flashlights in their hands. Two men and one woman. Three ordinary-looking workers in yellow hard hats and work clothes.
Mouse explained what a train was and told them that sometimes trains went through tunnels like this one. “Digger must have pulled the main switch and cut off the power; that’s why it stopped. But we should get out in case any more trains come because even though it’s not the monster you thought it was, it’s still dangerous. Apart from the possibility of getting run over, that rail,” he pointed, “carries the electricity that powers the train. It can kill. Now, let me see. We don’t have to go back the way we came; we can go this way. I can see moonlight.”
Alkus relit her lantern and made a note on her clipboard. Send a work crew to fill in the hole outside the Ancient Rhymer’s cave before it causes more trouble. And seal Podge’s pantry again.
As the grateful Undergardeners thanked Mouse for revealing what the Creepscreech really was, he found out how the myth had come into being. Back when the tunnel was being built, some of the Undergardeners in those olden times had been killed in the blasting. The generations of Undergardeners that came after never went near the tunnel again, and the myth of the monstrous Creepscreech grew and grew. Digger shook his head ruefully. “Fear has a big shadow,” he said, “but he himself is very small.”
Podge drew himself up on his hind legs and shook himself gleefully, his own spiky shadow looking huge and menacing in the light from the lantern. “You did a splendid night’s work, Mouse,” he said, his monocle glinting. “By gollopers, yes. You’re a hero.”
Everyone agreed cheerfully, and Mouse felt proud. A hero, by gollopers, he thought as he led the happy Undergardeners along the tunnel toward the circle of light he knew was the night sky. They streamed out into the moon-bright, open-to-the-sky, outside world.
Chapter 10
Mouse took a deep breath of the night air. Being below ground with the Undergardeners had been wonderful, but fresh air and moonlight and space were nice too. Looking around, he was surprised to recognize his surroundings. While underground he had felt he was a thousand miles away, yet here he was at a railway bridge not very far from his own home. The river flowing under the bridge ran through the park at the back of his house; a fast walk and he could be home in minutes. Mouse had never seen the park at this hour: dark, shadowy, moody, mysterious and silent, except for the flowing river whispering to the rocks.
Sooner than he wanted, they came within sight of his back garden and the fenceposts he and his father had erected. In the moonlight they looked like small, square, branchless trees. The house was in darkness, which meant he hadn’t been missed; Mouse could sneak back to bed and nobody would be the wiser. But, tired though he was, he didn’t want to go to bed, didn’t want the evening to end. “Can we meet again?” he asked, looking beseechingly at Alkus.
Alkus looked up at Mouse and then turned to the others. All nodded their agreement without hesitation. “It seems to be unanimous,” she said with a smile. “Let’s sole on it.” One after the other they all solemnly touched toes with Mouse. “Now remember, Mouse,” Alkus continued, �
�this has to be our secret. We can’t have Uptoppers interfering with our lives, which they would if they found out about us. Promise?” Mouse nodded vigorously.
At the edge of the hole where the adventure had started, the Undergardeners hummed the rock into its open position. Suddenly Mouse had an awful thought. “But if we fill in this hole,” he said, “you won’t be able to raise the rock!”
“Oh, that’s all right,” exclaimed Alkus. “We have lots of entrances. Hollow trees, the edge of the riverbank, under other rocks—we have many ways in and out. In fact, until tonight, this portal hadn’t been used since before these houses and gardens were built.” She gestured about her with both hands. “Thank you for everything, Mouse. Next time we’re working near here we’ll get a message to you and we’ll meet again.”
With one last goodbye to them all, Mouse turned and headed toward his back door.
Back in his bedroom, he knew he should try to wash away all trace of the Undergarden, but he was afraid that the noise would wake his parents. That was his excuse, anyway. Let his mother wonder tomorrow how he managed to get muddy while he slept. Exhausted, he climbed into bed, his mind still buzzing with excitement. He was pleased with himself too. If I hadn’t rushed out to help Qwolsh, look what I would have missed— the best adventure I’ve ever had in my life. I’m a hero, by gollopers.
And with that happy thought, Mouse fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Desmond Anthony Ellis lives in a house in Toronto that backs onto a park full of animals. There’s a river and a railway bridge nearby and lots of hiding places among trees and bushes; the perfect place for a boy to grow up. A place very like where Mouse lives, in fact. The Undergardeners is his first book.
Undergardeners Page 6