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So Below: The Trilogy

Page 35

by Matt Whyman


  At first, the only detectable response is a brief lull in the squeals, crashing and banging. The gap could be filled with a question mark, such are the baffled grunts that can be heard all around. When the cacophony resumes, however, it’s clear that a mad scramble has begun to reach one room in the bunker.

  “That’s the spirit, my friends,” yells the voice through the tannoy, as the first sightless wretches crash into the canteen. Some rear up on hind legs, others simply crash blindly into the first bench, and scrap among themselves to stand tall again. “If you must turn our fine tub into a pigsty, why not finish the job properly?”

  Within seconds, the canteen is filled with a mass of sightless, howling savages. They spill over one another in a bid to reach the speaker. Billy continues to heckle them, and even dares to mock their attempts to wrench the speaker from the wall. For it’s the sound of his voice that draws them in, and provides just the opportunity that a bravehearted brute might seize to creep into the gangway unnoticed.

  “He’ll never make it!” This is Livia. She’s the first person to speak when the blast doors seal off the Bridge automatically once more. Yoshi turns from the control pad he’s just operated so that Aleister could slip out, and then locates the brute himself via the bunker’s closed-circuit camera system. The boy finds him standing with his back and both hands pressed to the gangway wall, just ahead of the canteen. He brings the feed onto the big screen so that everyone can see.

  Billy observes this hooded figure poised to make his move. Without taking his eyes from the screen, he draws his microphone boom closer to his mouth and resumes his volley of taunts and teasing. This time, however, his voice is shot through with tension. All the glee with which he lured the creatures into the canteen has vanished.

  “This is suicidal!” says Mikhail, cradling Jenks Junior now, whose upper limbs are wrapped around the young Russian’s neck. The creature’s snub nose twitches constantly, and its pointed ears are pricked.

  “See how sharp their sense of hearing is,” Julius observes. “As soon as they pick up on the scent of Yoshi’s hoodie, they’ll go crazy.”

  “If I could see,” squeals Jenks Junior, his aura flickering around him. “I’d cover my eyes about now.”

  “We should have listened to Livia,” says Scarlett. “Even if Aleister draws them from the bunker, there’s no escape for him.”

  “We can’t just sit tight,” her sister chimes in. “Can we?”

  Julius watches intently, the back of one finger pressed to his lips. “A sacrifice is intended to save others,” he says finally. “Whatever happens to Aleister now, let’s hope he’s genuinely doing it for our sakes.”

  Yoshi spins around at this, and faces Billy so abruptly that the Executive Deck Hand falls silent. “I have to get out there,” he announces, and rolls his shoulders inside the brute’s mink coat. “Before it’s too late.”

  “No way!” protests Billy, forgetting to cover his microphone boom. “Those pug ugly critters won’t stay in one place for long. Any moment now, they’ll realise we have an operative in the gangway, waiting to break cover . . . what did I say?” he asks, as all eyes turn from him to the big screen.

  There, Aleister can be seen grimacing at this gaffe. Indeed, the pack in the canteen have picked up on every word Billy has just shared over the tannoy, for some can be seen turning for the gangway now. With no choice, it seems, the brute bolts past the open doorway, heading for the stairwell. Immediately, the bunker resounds to squeals of surprise. Nobody needs look at the screen to know the hunt is back on. It isn’t the sight of a band of hog-like savages chasing their senses by wheeling around. Nor is it the sudden clarity of the din. It’s the sight of the boy in the white mink coat now rushing into the picture on the screen.

  “Yoshi!”

  Julius turns to where his young charge had been standing, directly in front of the controls. Immediately, his attention is drawn to the blast doors closing for a second time.

  Billy gasps, as do the others, and urges the creatures to remain where they are. “It’s just an illusion!” he pleads weakly into the microphone, as the first of them emerge from the canteen, snouts to the ground in the wake of the boy and the brute before him. “Don’t hurt them, please!”

  36

  FADE TO BLACK

  Every good bunker is equipped with an escape hatch. They might have been built to withstand a nuclear attack, but the military chiefs who once inhabited them liked to take no chances, and often ordered a passage to get them out in a hurry. For there might come a time, so they believed, when the threat was greater from within. From a fire in the hold to a sickness in the ranks, they could be well away from the bunker in seconds. They would never have imagined that one day a marauding band of inbred troglodytes might rampage unchecked through the gangways on every level. The chute itself is little more than a steep steel slide with a titanium seal at the exit that retracts automatically should someone hurtle down it. Right now, it serves as the only hope for a broad-shouldered man with a hood over his head and the fleet-footed boy close behind him.

  “Go for it, Aleister! I’m coming with you!”

  The brute has just climbed into the chute, but stops himself from pushing off when Yoshi calls out to him.

  “What on earth are you doing?” he growls, glowering at the boy in his precious mink coat. “Go back, now!”

  Yoshi jabs a thumb over his shoulder, as the first troglodyte swoops down the stairwell behind him. “It’s too late for that!” he cries, and snaps on his halogen lamps. “We’re in this together now!”

  Frowning darkly, Aleister releases his grip from the edge of the hatch, and slides out of view. Yoshi doesn’t stop to climb inside as the brute has. He simply dives in head first, and is pleased to hear the creature behind him pull up at the elder’s command. He closes his eyes, gathering speed now, and then gasps in surprise when Aleister catches him on the other side.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” he mutters. The boy’s twin lights shine up into the face of the figure who first drove him underground. They’re in a cramped chamber, with the belly of the bunker behind them. “You don’t feature in my plan.”

  “Well, that makes a change,” Yoshi retorts. “When you believed you needed kids like me to unlock the Faerie Ring, you put us through hell in the hope that we’d bow to your will. Why do you think we fled from your Foundation? It felt more like a prison than a programme to help psychic children get to grips with their abilities.”

  Aleister’s furrowed brow springs into a peak. “Is that how it seemed?” he asks, sounding genuinely surprised. At the same time, he sets the boy’s feet on the ground, glancing back at the chute and the sound of the elder and several troglodytes fighting to be first to slide down. “Of all people, you should know to question everything.”

  Yoshi looks over his shoulder, and suggests they move out. “All I know is that we’re seconds away from the kind of ending I’d prefer to avoid. I really don’t think these creeps behind us are simply throwing their voices down the chute. This isn’t a trick. They’re almost upon us. So, if it’s OK with you, I’d really like to run for my life.”

  Aleister smiles grimly, and invites him to follow close behind.

  “Just keep your eyes on me, boy,” he warns. “There are some tricks you can’t afford to miss.”

  Ahead, beyond a partition formed by packing crates, Yoshi recognises the labyrinth under Chinatown that they had weaved through to reach the lost river. This time, however, it looks like the aftermath of a riot, such is the trail of upturned boxes, split rice sacks, splintered bamboo chairs and broken vases. If a poker game had been in progress behind any of the doorways over there, the players are nowhere to be seen now. Judging by the cards strewn everywhere, they had thrown down their hands and fled.

  “These creatures are a destructive force,” Aleister calls back, picking up the pace now. “There is only one place they can go if the city is to be safe from harm.”

  Before Yoshi can q
uestion him, the first of the troglodytes crash out of the chute. The boy looks around fearfully, just as they vanish behind the packing case partition. A moment later, the first of them explodes through the boxes in pursuit of their quarry, while others spring over the top. Yoshi focuses on catching up with the brute, only to find he has disappeared from sight. “Hey!” he cries, scanning the path in a panic. “This is no time for vanishing acts!”

  Up ahead, beyond the massive paper dragons from the new year’s celebrations, now suspended in segments from the joists overhead, the sound of something heavy hitting water provides the boy with his answer. What he can’t fathom is how anyone could’ve reached the drop into the lost river from here in anything less than a minute. It’s too late to find out now, however, as his blind pursuers are almost upon him. Indeed, all Yoshi can do is dodge from their path, wrap himself tight inside Aleister’s mink coat and pray they won’t detect his scent. He holds his breath, standing as still as the ornamental statues he’s just found himself among, and winces when the wheezing voice of the elder calls a halt to the pursuit.

  “Wait, my brothers and sisters. What do you smell?”

  “He is nearby. I knows it! Be still so we can hear him.”

  Yoshi struggles not to let his teeth start chattering, and considers simply making a break for it. Then, just as he expects his cover to fall, one of the troglodytes squeals with delight. “He’s in the river! Listen to those footfalls!”

  “’Tis a trick!” grunts the elder. “I smells him in two places at once.”

  “And don’t I have the sharpest ears this generation?” the other one protests. “I swear to you, he’s in the river, and heading for the sty!”

  The elder can be heard sniffing the air one final time. From where Yoshi is cowering, just feet away, it sounds more like someone scraping their feet on a mat. All of a sudden, the boy hopes and prays this mink fur coat can keep him cocooned from harm. It certainly smells heavily of the brute, but right now, that comes as a comfort. Especially when the elder draws nearer, sniffing the surrounding statues.

  “Come out, boy! Wherever you are!”

  A snout finds Yoshi’s coat sleeve just then, leaving a trail of slime as it rises to his collar. The boy’s heart misses several beats as this blind leader of the pack rises high on his hind legs. He feels the ogre’s hog breath on his neck. It invades his nostrils, causing his stomach to churn. For a moment, Yoshi fears he might just throw up through fear as much as disgust.

  “The boy isn’t here!” cries the one keen to get to the river. “If you can smell him there then he must’ve left something behind to throw us off the scent. Use your ears! Can’t you hear him! He’s getting away!”

  Yoshi feels the heat on his neck recede just then, but holds off gasping for breath until the elder begrudgingly orders his tribe to head for the lost river.

  “If I find we’ve been hoodwinked,” he warns, “by God, I shall seek my revenge!”

  The pack thunder onwards, scrapping once more to be first through the drop into the Walbrook. Yoshi rests his hands on his knees, feeling giddy with relief. Indeed, when Aleister’s voice calls out to him, it takes a second for him to recognise his voice, and another to realise that he’s communicating on a psychic level.

  “Close your eyes, Yoshi. Clear your mind, and join me.”

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  “You’ll see.”

  With a sigh, Yoshi stands up straight. He shuts his eyes as instructed, aware now of some interference in his ears. At first, it seems as if nothing is happening. All he can see is the inside of his eyelids, but then something takes shape in the gloom. It’s accompanied by the sound of splashing, and when Aleister emerges Yoshi realises what has just happened. What he’s looking at isn’t here at all. It’s taking place some way down the river course, and he’s viewing it remotely.

  “There you are!” says Yoshi out loud, sensing his view tracking backwards over the water now to keep the brute in his sight.

  “I told you not to take your eyes off me.” Aleister moves rapidly, his bald dome dipped to avoid the vaulted tunnel roof. “One glance away is all it takes for any magician to seize the advantage.”

  “Why did you leave me behind?” asks the boy.

  “I needed to buy some time. You served me well as a distraction, Yoshi. Indeed, without your help I might have failed you all completely.”

  “But they’re on your trail again!” he says, and indeed the sound of urgent splashing is beginning to catch up with the brute. “That’s exactly where I want them,” says Aleister, still pushing onwards. The boy may not be physically present with his halogen head torch to see the brute, but he’s lit up enough in his mind’s eye to see those tight blue eyes fixed firmly on the way ahead. “And Yoshi, you’re exactly where I want you to be.”

  “I am? Why?”

  “Hurry after them as fast as you can. When you reach the waterfall, I believe you’ll know what to do.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “In spirit, my boy,” is all he says, upon which Yoshi’s view seems to accelerate, for Aleister begins to drop back into the darkness, fading into black.

  “Yoshi!”

  This time, the voice is right behind him. He snaps open his eyes, ending the remote view immediately, to find Julius with the others.

  “Where have they all gone?” asks Livia, surveying the ruined space around her. “The bunker is empty, so they must be somewhere.”

  “Away from here,” is all Yoshi can say, still processing the brute’s last wish. He turns towards the hatch to the lost river. “Follow me,” he tells them. “The bunker may be back under our control, but this city is not safe yet.”

  37

  END OF THE LINE?

  When it comes to testing the senses, you can’t beat a spell in the dark. Your eyes don’t serve you well, even with what little light is available, while your ears pick up on sounds you might otherwise have missed.

  “Do you hear that?” asks Yoshi, leading the way through the lost river Walbrook, as he has been for some time now. The halogen lamps are strapped to his temples still, and continue to pick out slick black water flowing between the brickwork.

  “What is it?” Livia follows close behind. Her aura serves to wash the immediate path with light, but it fails to penetrate far.

  “I hear it now,” Blaize announces, and her sister quickly follows, as does Mikhail. Jenks Junior, who now lopes beside the young Russian, sporting a bandanna that Billy has fashioned for him. The Executive Deck Hand brings up the rear. In his rollerblades still, he appears to be skating on water.

  “It’s an orchestra,” he declares, and pretends to conduct as he glides from one foot to the next.

  “It’s a Gorecki composition,” says Julius Grimaldi, as the refrain reaches his ears. “The Song of Sorrowful Songs.”

  Sure enough, the mournful sound becomes clearer with every step they take, until finally the tunnel opens out into the chasm they had earlier evacuated. Mikhail stops beside Yoshi, his head cocked as he listens. “D’you think next time we’re outside St Luke’s we could pop in and see if they’ll play requests?”

  “It’s moving,” say Livia, looking straight ahead.

  “Do you think so?” says Mikhail. “I think it’s miserable.”

  “Not the music,” she snaps, and nods across the chasm. “The shape in the tunnel over there, and it isn’t the elder this time!”

  “Where?” Yoshi trains his twin beams across the abyss, crouching now along with everyone else. He catches sight of something, as does Billy, who claps a hand across his mouth.

  “Good grief,” he squeaks. “It’s the Grim Reaper!”

  Sure enough, a hooded, square-shouldered figure can just be seen facing them across the chasm. It’s little more than a form in the shadows, however, and calmly retreats into the darkness as Billy signals their arrival by pointing him out to the others.

  “Will you relax!” asks Mikhail, anxious not to alarm t
he young charge in his arms. “If Jenks Junior’s flesh and blood find out we’ve come back here, they’ll be on to us in no time. Now stay low, just in case they come looking.”

  As if in response, deeper inside the tunnel over there, a startled squeal goes up. The party dive for cover, only to come back when a challenging roar rents the air. This also issues from across the chasm, but sounds unmistakeably human. It also signals a frenzy of grunts and scrabbling as if a pack of predators are circling in on a piece of meat.

  “What’s going on?” asks Julius suspiciously, addressing Yoshi now. “If those wretches have crossed the divide, where is Aleister? Tell me that wasn’t him we just saw across there?”

  “It was too dark to say for certain,” replies Yoshi. “But now that we’re here I’m absolutely sure about what is expected of me.” Yoshi creeps forward. At the lip of the waterfall, he examines the battered pipe that once spanned the divide. It’s still intact, despite being buckled and dented, and springs up and down at the sheared end when he tests it with his hands.

  “You’re not going across there,” says Blaize.

  “No way,” confirms Scarlett. “If you so much as place one foot on it, we’ll heat up your behind until you give up.”

  Yoshi smiles to himself, his back turned to them all still. He watches the water stream between his ankles, before it cascades into the depths.

  “As a parkour,” he says, “it’s vital that you recognise how far you’ve come. It means reflecting on all the jumps that brought you here, and learning from the experience.”

  “So what did this one teach you?” asks Livia.

  Yoshi turns now to face them all. “It taught me that some leaps are off limits. They’re just too hazardous, not for me but for others as well.” He pauses there, considering them all. “We’re here because we need to sever the link between this divide.”

  “You want to do away with the pipe?” says Mikhail. “Why didn’t you say earlier? There’s a blowtorch in the bunker.”

 

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