The Tunnels of Ferdinand

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The Tunnels of Ferdinand Page 9

by James Moloney


  On any other day, what was before them might have seemed remarkable. A complex structure of steel beams towered over them. It was like a bridge, but this one didn’t span a river. It rose up into the sky, like a man-made mountain.

  They had no choice but to race towards it. Both hands were needed to climb, and with no time to sheath their swords, they had to drop them and leap for the highest strut they could reach.

  Berrin caught hold and just managed to swing himself up and out of the way as the jaws of a Gadge snapped beneath him.

  ‘After them!’ came the shout, and immediately the three Gadges began to climb as well.

  The climbing wasn’t difficult. It was the height that caused Berrin problems. The familiar dizziness invaded his head, and though he fought against it, he could feel his muscles tighten with fear.

  ‘Don’t look down,’ Olanda called to him.

  She was already halfway to the top, with Berrin a few metres below her. He took her advice and looked only upwards.

  If he had looked down, he would have seen the Gadges coming after them, urged on by Gadger Red, who had joined them, but stayed safely on the ground, watching. The Gadges were bigger and heavier and had awkward limbs for climbing but they followed steadily, relentlessly, forcing the desperate pair even higher.

  Finally, they could climb no further. Olanda clambered onto the highest point of this odd mountain. Berrin joined her, keeping his arms outstretched for balance. Try as he might, he couldn’t control the shaking that spread through his entire body.

  ‘What is this thing?’

  Olanda looked around her. ‘I can’t even guess,’ she answered. ‘What do you think those rails are for?’

  Rails? When Berrin dared to look down at his feet, he found that he was standing between two steel rails, each as thick as his arm. Running parallel, they seemed to come up one side of the rusting framework and sweep smoothly down the other.

  ‘There was an old train near our dormitory but I don’t think it could run on rails like this,’ said Olanda.

  For the first time, he saw that there was another narrow mountain connected to this one. Strange … they seemed to have been built here on purpose, just to create steep hills. Why? he wondered.

  As he inspected the dip between the mini-mountains, a Gadge ventured out from the crisscross of steel struts and began to climb towards them between the rails.

  Olanda looked down into the superstructure itself. ‘There are more of them now. Six or seven. We’re trapped up here.’ Turning to Berrin with a desolate expression clouding her face, she added, ‘Should we jump?’

  ‘Jump? Are you crazy? We’d be killed!’ he answered.

  ‘Berrin,’ she replied in a remarkably calm voice, ‘they’re going to eat us anyway.’

  For a moment he stood staring at her. ‘Well, we’ll make them catch us first,’ he snapped defiantly. They were desperate, with no way out, but he wouldn’t give up hope. He felt the map inside his shirt. He thought of the flowers in that great glass building below them. If they could just get back to Ferdinand …

  The Gadges were just metres below them now. The one climbing between the rails had stopped to wait for the others. Then they would all close in together. There would be no escape this time.

  It was the grim-faced Gadge who heard the noise first. His head turned in the direction it was coming from.

  ‘What’s that?’ Olanda asked.

  Then Berrin heard it too and turned cautiously to stare after her. The noise was coming from the second steel mountain. A kind of box was slowly appearing over the rise. As they watched, it climbed higher until they could see wheels beneath it.

  ‘It’s running on these rails,’ Berrin pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but what is it?’

  ‘It looks a bit like a Dodgem, don’t you think?’ he said. He so wanted to be underground again, travelling too fast in the darkness behind the reckless Quinn.

  ‘Look, there’s someone in it!’ Olanda cried.

  As she spoke, the odd trolley started down the steep slope towards their own mountain. So fast. It would surely crash and come off the rails when it reached the bottom.

  But it didn’t. In fact, it began to rise rapidly towards them. A Gadge stood in its way, but when the contraption hurtled towards him at such speed the beast was forced to swing down among the metal struts once more to avoid it.

  This gave Berrin a clear view into the trolley. ‘I know him!’ he cried instantly. ‘I know who it is. It’s Wendell!’

  That wasn’t all he realised. If the trolley stayed on the tracks, then it would arrive any second at the spot where they were standing. There was no way to avoid it without climbing down into the waiting claws of the Gadges. The climb towards them had taken away some of the trolley’s speed, but it was a nerve-racking few seconds as they watched it sweep towards them.

  Four, three, two … Berrin counted down the approach to himself, hoping Olanda was doing the same. Then they leaped together, catching the front of the trolley hard in their stomachs. A hand slapped onto Berrin’s back, hauling him safely into a seat, then quickly did the same for Olanda. When he looked up, Berrin found himself staring at that familiar face.

  ‘You saved me again!’

  He didn’t have time to say more. The trolley was picking up speed. In fact, it was rushing, racing, no, careering down the steep slope. A Gadge climbed up and stood in its way, determined to stop it. He paid with his life when the trolley hit him with a sickening thud and sent him tumbling to the ground forty metres below.

  The trolley shot relentlessly to the bottom of the second mountain, then instantly began to climb again. Berrin felt his bones pressing down on one another. Before he knew it, they were at the top of a smaller climb and his stomach was trying to get out through his mouth.

  ‘What is this thing?’ he called to Wendell.

  ‘A Rollercoaster,’ Wendell shouted in return. ‘Ferdinand told us all how it works. Or at least, I think this is what’s meant to happen.’

  At last they came to a halt at a long deck not far off the ground that seemed specially built for them to step off easily.

  ‘I thought you were supposed to escape from the city.’

  ‘I couldn’t. Too many Gadges patrolling the streets. I guessed that meant the Rats were up to something special, so I stayed around to help. Come on, the Gadges will be after us again.’

  He was right. A blood-curdling howl filled the air about them.

  ‘Gadger Red,’ said Wendell with a shudder. ‘That’s his signal to call every Gadge in the city.’

  They rushed down the steps that led off the platform and started running. But where to? Their only hope was to reach a storm-water drain and disappear before the Gadges caught their scent. At least my toes have stopped bleeding, Berrin consoled himself.

  They found themselves back among the streets and dull grey buildings. If they stopped running and took shelter in one, the Gadges would sniff them out. They kept moving, with no time to look at the map, turning left and right at random, hoping each time to see the bridge Olanda had spotted earlier.

  Then finally they turned one more corner and found the way blocked by three Gadges on all fours. They turned immediately, only to find the way they had come cut off as well.

  ‘The doors into these buildings!’ Wendell called, but as he spoke they opened one after the other and out stepped a Gadge from each.

  There was no escape, straight ahead, behind them, left or right. There was no Rollercoaster to carry them away, no ropes to swing on, and only Wendell’s sword to strike one last damaging blow before they were overpowered. Berrin looked towards the sky, since all other means of getting away were blocked.

  ‘Nothing to climb this time,’ Gadger Red taunted, stepping out of the shadows in front of them. ‘And no chance to play your tricks either. Look around you, little humans. This is where you will die.’

  SIXTEEN

  Doomsday is Coming

  IT WAS GADGER RED�
�S goading remark that made Berrin look down. Nothing above you. No escape. He glanced down at his feet anyway.

  What was he expecting to see? It would just be the hard road, he told himself. He wished it would swallow him up and save him from the horror of the next few moments.

  What he saw instead was a circle of steel. He was standing on a manhole cover. Beneath it were the storm-water pipes that had become his home.

  ‘Wendell, Olanda,’ he called under his breath. He nodded almost imperceptibly towards his feet.

  They knew what he was thinking straightaway.

  ‘No,’ murmured Olanda just as quickly. ‘We can’t give away the secret. If we escape down there, the Gadges will know where we live.’

  ‘She’s right,’ whispered Wendell as he kept his eyes on the approaching Gadges. ‘We must die here and take the secret with us.’

  It was true, Berrin realised. The safety of the hiding place was vital. The secret must be kept at all costs, even if it meant a horrible death, a death that came closer with every ponderous step the Gadges took towards them. Olanda and Wendell were willing. He would have to stand firm with them.

  He squared his shoulders, ready to meet his fate. The movement dislodged the map inside his shirt. He felt its hard corners. Such precious information. And those buildings made of glass, with their millions of purple flowers. How many more Rats would die before another one discovered that secret?

  ‘No,’ he cried suddenly. ‘It’s a risk we have to take.’

  He stepped off the circle of steel and positioned his legs on either side.

  ‘Stop, Berrin!’ Wendell cried angrily. ‘You’re betraying all of the Rats!’

  There was no time to explain, no time to argue. Berrin closed his ears, and before they could stop him, he had wrenched up the heavy manhole cover. It rolled to one side and fell noisily onto the road. Before it had come to rest, he grabbed Olanda and forced her through the opening.

  The Gadges rushed at them from all sides. Seizing the reluctant Wendell by the front of his tattered shirt, Berrin jumped feet-first into the black opening.

  The two boys landed in a painful heap on the concrete floor beside Olanda. Above them, one of the Gadges was already lowering himself into the manhole. They watched helplessly, because in the final panic Wendell had dropped his sword. They couldn’t even slash at the Gadge’s legs before he squeezed through to catch them.

  But he was too big. To their relief, his bulk caught in the unforgiving circle, cutting off the shafts of light that had shone down into the pipe until then. The danger was not entirely over, though. The furious Gadge lashed out with his legs.

  ‘Stay back,’ Wendell cautioned.

  The Gadge quickly ordered his companions to haul him out of the hole. But they had not given up. As soon as this one was free, a second poked his arm and shoulder through the opening and raked the air frantically. But the three Rats were out of reach.

  Finally, Gadger Red’s head appeared, his wolfish face contorted with fury and frustration. His mouth still watered in anticipation of a tasty meal, a meal that had escaped him yet again.

  ‘I’ll find you. There’ll be a way into these tunnels and I’ll come after the lot of you. You most of all, boy,’ he snarled, glaring malevolently at Berrin.

  He could not follow them into the tunnel, but these threats brought pain enough. The three of them had to get away.

  ‘Quickly, this way!’ Olanda called to the boys as she began to scamper off.

  They were safe for now. By the time Gadger Red found a wider opening and traced it back to here, they would be long gone.

  But that wasn’t enough for Wendell.

  ‘You’ve betrayed the Rats, all of us!’ he raged at Berrin as they tramped along the blackened tunnel. ‘By now Malig Tumora will know where the Rats have been hiding all these years!’

  Beside him Olanda said nothing. She didn’t attack Berrin but she didn’t defend him either.

  Soon a patrol found them, led by Quinn in a Dodgem. When he heard the story he showed his disgust by turning away from Berrin.

  Then Dorian was told, and she called all the Rats together urgently. In a long, solemn line they crawled into Ferdinand’s quarters, all except Wendell, who had grown too big to make the journey.

  Berrin was the last to arrive. He was told to sit in the corner, and there he endured many minutes of pure misery as his crime was relayed to their leader. His only comfort was Jasper, who came to perch on his shoulder.

  ‘Well, Berrin,’ Ferdinand began sadly, ‘what have you got to say for yourself?’

  Berrin had almost forgotten why he had done it. But as he shifted uncomfortably, aware of every eye upon him, he felt the map against his chest. He took it from inside his shirt and opened it, holding it up so they could see.

  ‘This shows all the streets, the buildings, everything that we’ve been trying to find out about the city,’ he told them, without the enthusiasm he might once have had as he delivered this news.

  ‘These large rectangles are buildings made of glass. Inside, Malig Tumora grows flowers, all the same purple flower, more of them than you can count. It’s the fumes the flower gives off that helps him control the grown-ups. See these lines?’ he added, tracing the red network with his finger. ‘These are the pipes that carry the fumes to the houses.’

  Around the cold, cramped stretch of tunnel that held Ferdinand as its prisoner, there wasn’t a sound. They all knew what Berrin had brought them.

  After a long silence, Ferdinand spoke up. ‘You did the right thing, Berrin. This information means we can defeat Malig Tumora at last. We had to have it, even if it comes at such a heavy price.’

  Turning to the others, he spread his arms wide. ‘Listen, all of you,’ he called in the strangely deep voice that only he possessed. ‘I told you that we would have to take risks. Berrin knew that better than any of you and that’s why he did what he did. He and Olanda have proved themselves as brave as any Rat we’ve ever had in these tunnels. I’m proud of them both. The risks they took have brought us a rich reward. Now that we know how Malig Tumora controls the grown-ups, we can stop him.’

  ‘But Ferdinand,’ Dorian interrupted, ‘he knows where we are hiding.’

  ‘Yes, and even now he will be planning how to kill us all. You can guess what the solution is, can’t you? All of you know it in your heart. The only solution is to beat him first.’

  He reached down and took Berrin’s hand, drawing him to his feet. Olanda sat nearby and he reached for hers as well. ‘If you all show the courage and judgment of these two,’ he insisted, ‘then we will win this battle. There is one thing we can all be certain of now. Doomsday is coming for one side or the other.’

  His words brought an eerie silence to the children assembled before him. They knew there was no choice. There could be no backing down. This was the way it had to be.

  From the back of the crowd, a single voice called out. It was Quinn, always the quick one with words. Often it was a joke, but this time his words would become part of the legend. They would steel all who heard them for the days to come.

  ‘That’s us, then,’ he said simply. ‘We’re the Doomsday Rats.’

  THE END

  The Doomsday Rats: Book Two

  The Scorpion’s Tail

  Available from March 2005

  The exciting series continues …

  Time is running out for the Rats to save their tunnels from Malig Tumora’s evil creatures.

  After a narrow brush with death at the hands of Gadger Red, Berrin escapes into the tunnels with valuable information. But it had come at a cost — the secret of the Doomsday Rats underground hideout has been revealed.

  Now the resistance group of children are fighting for their lives, as they’re tracked through the tunnels by the hideous Gadges using a strange beast with powerful senses. But is the beast really on the Gadges’ side?

  There’s worse to come, as the Rats must face the terrifying Firedrake and a robotic scor
pion. Malig Tumora is determined to exterminate the Rats and not all of them will survive.

  Turn the page to read Chapter One of

  The Scorpion’s Tail now!

  ONE

  They Know We are Down Here

  BERRIN’S SWORD SCRAPED NOISILY against the concrete as he crawled through the narrow tunnel. He was a slim boy, some would say skinny, but if this helped him get around inside the storm-water pipes that had become his home, then he didn’t care what people called him. He tilted his head a little so that the lamp attached to his helmet could punch through the darkness ahead. He caught just a glimpse of a figure crawling ahead of him. Come on, better keep up, he told himself. They’ll be waiting for me.

  He crouched lower to keep the handle of his sword away from the tunnel’s hard shell. This was the new sword he had been given to replace the one he had lost only hours before. Half a metre of razor-sharp steel, it was sheathed in a leather scabbard and strapped to his back. He would have to pull it free soon enough, he suspected. There would be fighting. He could already feel the fear twisting his stomach into a painful knot.

  A few metres ahead, the pipe opened into a much larger one. He stood up at last and brushed the dirt from his hands. Human beings weren’t made for crawling around inside tunnels like these. They weren’t supposed to be hunted by cruel beasts called Gadges either. Half man, half wolf, these Gadges prowled the city streets above these storm drains. Berrin was one of only a handful of children who held out against them. They called themselves the Rats.

  Here in this larger pipe, a light bulb spilled gloomy yellow light onto the young bodies. Like the others before him, Berrin quickly reached up to switch off his helmet lamp. Battery power was too precious to waste. It was a ragged bunch that he saw around him. The shoulders and knees of their clothing had been worn away from the constant scraping against unfriendly concrete. Any colour had long since been lost under the grime. With little chance to see the sun, their skin would have been a deathly white, if it hadn’t been for the dirt.

 

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