‘What is it?’ Ralf asked.
‘I don’t know…’ Leo sounded half asleep. Something...’
‘Come on!’ Ralf urged. ‘We have to keep moving!’ He stretched out for the wall once more but his hand reached into nothingness. The electric flare on the back of his neck was a sharp pain and he almost cried out. Cabal whined and pawed at the floor.
‘What the–?’ Reaching out with both hands, Ralf took a tentative step forwards. ‘Alfie!’ Ralf’s voice was a whisper in the dark. ‘The torch!’
The beam wobbled as it crossed Ralf then shone faintly into the gap which surprisingly, was cordoned off with a length of rope. Beyond the rope was a domed cave. In the centre of the space was a rectangular hole six or seven feet long and a series of smaller holes dotted the earthen floor. Ralf took the torch from Alfie’s cold fingers, ducked under the rope and edged forwards. A shovel stood against one wall and a tin mug lay on its side next to it.
‘It’s the Barrow!’ said Ralf, understanding all of a sudden.
‘Shh!’ Leo was stock still, listening.
A faint hum wafted towards them on the stale air. No it wasn’t a hum. It was…it was a voice – whispering. Suddenly claustrophobic, Ralf wanted to get out. His brain screamed for him to do just that, but something compelled him onward. Instinctively, he knew there was something else here – something they needed to see. He swept the torch round once more. Nothing. He moved the torch over the walls, more slowly this time. Chalk, earth and in the deepest recesses of the cave a curtain of tree roots hanging from the ceiling. The roots swayed in a puff of air that wasn’t there and Ralf reached to pull them aside. Another tunnel!
‘Ralf,’ Leo moaned. ‘I don’t think you should –’
‘Leave it, blud,’ Alfie whispered. ‘Serious.’
Even Cabal seemed to agree. He ran back and forwards in front of them, growling and huffing his distress.
But Ralf could not help himself. He ducked into it. He sensed rather than saw the others shuffle through to join him. The tunnel was cramped for the first few paces but then opened out to a cavernous height. Ralf gasped. There, in front of him, was the stuff of his nightmares. Cold and malevolent loomed the Black Door.
‘It’s real!’ Leo’s exclamation was a horrified choke.
Ralf made an effort to keep the torch up and hold it steady. By its light they took it all in: the steps leading down, the black wood, the great lock and the empty sconces on the walls where torches once hung.
‘No one touch it!’ Leo commanded.
The whispers came again. Ralf felt the others tense around him. Another jolt seared across the back of his neck. A thread of shadow rippled from under the door. Another oozed like treacle from the keyhole.
‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Alfie said in a tiny voice. ‘Leo's right. Some doors should never be opened.’
‘Yes,’ said Ralf, his voice quavering despite his efforts to keep it steady. ‘But that one has been. Look!’
Sure enough, even in the faltering torchlight they could see that the door was ajar. Ralf’s curiosity abruptly left him.
‘Children! We need to hurry.’ Gordon Kemp’s whisper from the outer tunnel made them all jump and Ralf dropped the torch. The light went out. There would have been panic then. Certainly Ralf felt his own heart double in speed. It thundered in his ears for a good two seconds as he scrabbled on the floor. There were cries from the others and a shout of pain from Valen as she stumbled and fell. But then, mercifully there was a loud click; the tunnel was illuminated by a shaking beam of light.
‘Old t-t-torch,’ Alfie stuttered. ‘The t-taped one. Back up’s always h-handy, innit!’
Leo retrieved the dropped torch and they backed slowly out of the tunnel to join Gordon Kemp. Ralf’s fingers closed around his marble bag – rabbit’s foot, twigs and all. The scent of aniseed and incense tinged the air and he felt curiously better, reassured somehow, as he gripped it. They walked on in silence.
The tunnel gradually sloped upwards until it reached a wooden trapdoor. Leo shouldered it open and there was a collective sigh at the touch of sweet, fresh air on their faces. Ralf felt like they’d been underground for hours and yet when he looked up, the sun had barely moved in the sky.
They were manhandling Oyler from the hole when they heard the rumbling sound of an engine and Ralf saw that Alfie had been right. They were only about twenty paces from the road.
‘Hie!’ Kemp shouted. ‘Over here!’ The baker’s desperation to get help lent him extra strength and he hauled Oyler on to his shoulders and staggered towards the road.
‘Hurry!’ he called back to them. But the Turnarounders hesitated. Being picked up by the army would mean questions. Questions meant delays and losing any more time was just what they could not afford. They watched the truck slow. Two soldiers, rifles raised, leaped from the back.
‘Who goes there?’
‘It’s me! Gordon Kemp!’ the baker shouted. The relief in his voice was obvious. ‘I have information about Charles Hart!’ The soldiers shouldered their rifles and ran forward to help Gordon on to the vehicle. ‘Wait!’ he cried. ‘The children...Children?’
‘He’s safe,’ Ralf whispered. ‘Let’s go.’
As one, they Shifted back into the trees. Cabal galloped after them.
The church clock struck three as the Turnarounders arrived back on the Green. Ralf couldn’t believe it. Had they only been gone two hours? But still the time was moving too quickly. The deadline’s fast approaching, he thought, as he scanned the eerily silent village.
‘Where is everybody?’ Valen asked. ‘Didn’t you say this Dunkirk evacuation thing was supposed to be happening?’
‘Yes and we have to find the rest of the Natus, they’re going to be vital over there,’ said Ralf. ‘We know that the Arbuckles should be heroes at Dunkirk but somehow we need to make sure that nothing stops them.’
‘What about Charles Hart?’ Leo protested. ‘I really think we should find out where Gadd’s taken him!’
‘Where are Burrowes and Minter, though?’ Alfie wondered. ‘The Hall looks empty. I would’ve thought they’d have got a full scale man-hunt going for you by now.’
Ralf shook his head. He didn’t know and he didn’t really care. ‘It doesn’t matter as long as we don’t run in to them. Kemp is safe and he’ll be working with the army by now. They’ll contact Burrowes and have search parties out within the hour. Gadd can’t have got far. They’ll have him in no time and Hart will be with him.’
‘Well, that’s one less problem we have to deal with tonight,’ said Valen. Her relief was obvious but completely misplaced. Only a few minutes later she’d be wondering how she could have been so wrong. She scanned the Green and the dark shop fronts on the High Street. ‘Blimey! Is that Hettie?’
It was her but she was nothing like Ralf remembered. Her head had always looked too large for her fragile, bird-like body, but now she looked like some awful caricature of herself as she struggled to lock the Post Office door. Her grey uniform hung off her and her hair was lank and straggly, hastily stuffed beneath a lopsided white cap. Her eyes, behind wire-rimmed spectacles, were owl large and red from crying.
She saw them standing there and scuttled over.
‘Miss Brindle’s a spy!’ she flung her arms around Valen’s neck and sobbed loudly. Valen shot the others a panicked look until Leo mimed a hugging motion and glared. Catching on, Valen returned the hug and patted Hettie’s back, awkwardly. ‘It’s alright,’ she said. ‘We know. But we really have to –’
‘Burrowes brought her in,’ Hettie wailed. ‘He’ll think I’m in on it. They’ll take me too!’
‘No, Hettie,’ Valen soothed. ‘They really won’t. Burrowes has proof that Brindle was alone. Now, get home. We have to go.’
‘I can’t go home! I don’t want to be alone!’ Cabal, who’d been sniffing at a nearby bush, gave a little whine of sympathy and trotted over to slobber over Hettie’s shoes. ‘Everyone’s gone mad!’
/> ‘Finally,’ said Alfie, ruefully, ‘someone’s noticed!’
Hettie continued to wail. ‘Lloyd Hatcher’s been taken off to hospital. Raving he was! Mr Winters has disappeared. No one knows where. Frank Duke’s been in his cellar all day. He was reeling when I saw him. Stone drunk and shouting about the Black Door!’
‘I know how he feels...’ muttered Alfie from behind his hand.
‘Dorcas Noakes and the rest of the gypsies ‘ave left their caravans! They say there’s Shadows in the woods. Mrs Tomkins came in with all of her children. She said her house was haunted and she wasn’t going back there ever. Everyone’s up at the Big House. Them’s that hasn’t set off on that fool’s errand to France!’
‘They’ve left already? Ralf asked, cursing himself for being so late. ‘Hettie, this is extremely important. Who went exactly?’
‘The men have all gone!’ Hettie wailed. ‘They took to the boats about an hour ago!’
‘Who Hettie, who?’
‘Well, the Arbuckles, o’ course. Even Old Bill and poor Michael with his leg as it is. All the other fishermen. Ben Cheeseman and young Walter Sedley too, though Old Mr Sedley was none too happy about it.’
‘All the Natus have gone!’ Ralf breathed. ‘That only leaves Gloria!’
‘Oh, Miss Gloria went too,’ Hettie snuffled. ‘No holding her back when she sets her mind to something,’ she added, admiringly. ‘Had quite an argument on the quayside, they did!’
‘Who did?’
‘Why, she and that Captain Keen o’ course! He was after going alone and was right cranky about it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said his arm weren’t strong enough. But he said he was fine and had Gadd Munton along for the heavy work.’
The Turnarounders gasped. Munton had escaped. Somehow he had managed to hand Hart over and trick Keen into getting him away from the manhunt. He was heading out to sea now and could easily jump ship or take over the boat and head for German waters.
Warming to her story Hettie wiped her eyes on a filthy handkerchief. ‘Miss Gloria just waltzed aboard The Sea-Hawke and started giving orders. Master Julian wasn’t happy. I think he wanted to be Captain but she was having none of it. Anyway, they left about half n’ hour after the others.’
‘This is it! Gadd Munton’s on that boat with Gloria and it’s heading straight for Dunkirk and the rest of the Natus!’ Ralf said, wide eyed.
‘Agreed,’ said Valen. ‘Something’s going to happen on The Sea-Hawke and I don’t think Gloria will be shy about getting into the thick of things.’
‘She’s in danger!’ Ralf exclaimed. ‘I should have thought of this from the very beginning! This all started with her. All the weird stuff in her house… Ambrose talking to her…She’s got a part to play in what happens today. We have to help her!’
‘Yeah,’ said Alfie. ‘Brilliant deduction Sherlock, but do you think we can stop talking about it and try and catch ‘em up?’ Alfie was wringing his tam o’ shanter like an old rag. ‘She may not be my auntie, but she is a diamond. We should get a wriggle on before she gets herself deaded while we’re not around to back her.’
‘But what about me?’ wailed Hettie. The thought that they might leave her set her off into a new fit of crying. ‘Don’t go!’
‘We have to!’ Valen snapped, trying to overcome the urge to shake Hettie until her teeth rattled. ‘Hettie we really have to and we need you to be strong. You are a part of this. You’re the one who first said Brindle was up to no good. They’ll probably give you a medal!’
‘I can’t!’ she sobbed. ‘Please don’t leave me! The birds are acting strange and there’s rats all over the village! This place is evil!’
The Turnarounders exchanged looks and Cabal nudged at Hettie’s legs sympathetically. Hettie stroked the dog’s head distractedly and Ralf came to a decision.
‘Cabal. Stay with Hettie!’ he commanded. ‘Keep her safe!
The dog looked at Ralf quizzically with sombre brown eyes then gave a low bark of assent.
‘Really?’ Hettie gulped. ‘You’d leave him with me?’
‘Of course,’ said Ralf, biting back the urge to snap at her. ‘No harm will come to you with Cabal around, I promise.’ Hettie would be needed in the village now and would be worse than useless in her current state. Besides, he’d be aboard The Sara Luz shortly and he didn’t want to risk Cabal at sea.
Hettie didn’t seem to know how to react to this. More tears splashed out and she buried her face in the thick fur at the base of Cabal’s neck.
‘That’s settled then,’ said Valen. ‘Now what we need you to do is go and tell Mrs Kemp that her husband’s been found alive. Make her have a hot, sweet cup of tea.’
‘And have one or two yourself,’ interrupted Alfie but Valen silenced him with a glare.
‘Then, Hettie, you must get yourself up to the Big House and help Mrs Kingston-Hawke prepare food and make bandages. Our boys and any men they rescue will need looking after when they get back, alright?’
Hettie nodded and blew her nose. Then, pulling herself straighter than they’d ever seen her she began to walk away with the giant dog padding beside her.
‘Look after her, Cabal,’ said Ralf, swallowing the lump in his throat.
‘Thank you, Ralf,’ she said, turning and blowing her nose once more. ‘Oh, I almost forgot! Seth came in earlier. He said for you to meet him on board.’
‘What?’
‘Seth?’ she sniffed, puzzled by their expressions. ‘He said he’d meet you at The Sara Luz.’
They made the harbour in one long Shift, their anxiety about Seth lending them the extra power they needed.
‘It’s him!’ Leo shouted, joyfully. ‘On the jetty!’
In the distance, a hunched figure turned at the sound and took a faltering step towards them. They Shifted once more and were soon mobbing Seth with hugs and exclamations of surprise and joy. He pushed them away.
‘We have to go!’ he cried. ‘Get on board. We’re running out of time!’
Ralf stepped back. One look was enough for him to realise something terrible had happened.
‘Let’s go!’ Ralf yelled before turning to his friend. ‘We’ll cast off, then you can tell us everything.’
Within minutes The Sara Luz was putting out of King’s Hadow harbour and into the open sea. Ralf was at the wheel. The others arranged themselves round Seth ready to hear his tale.
‘I got as far as Dover on the milk trains,’ Seth began. ‘I was going through my stuff, making sure I’d got everything, when I found Gloria’s list – the one where she’d written down all the ghost sightings?’ He looked at them miserably. ‘I’m so sorry, Wolf,’ he burst out. ‘I had it wrong from the start!’
‘Easy, mate!’ said Alfie. ‘Don’t beat yourself up, innit?’
‘You don’t understand!’ Seth groaned, grabbing Alfie by the arm and looking fearfully into his eyes. ‘You were right all along and I wouldn’t listen to you!’ He pulled a crumpled slip of notepaper from his pocket and handed it to Leo. ‘Look at it!’
Leo did as he was told then passed the note round to the others. Eventually, it came to Ralf, who steered one-handed to get a better view. The place names were all familiar enough. ‘We knew about these, Seth,’ he ventured, ‘I don’t–’
‘So, I marked all the ghost appearances down.’ Feverishly, Seth spread out the map on the bulkhead. ‘It’s water but it’s more than that too. Look at the pattern! Look at it!’
They huddled round. Shaky pencil lines had been drawn connecting each of the sightings. Even looking over his shoulder from his position steering Ralf could see the shape.
‘It’s like the spokes of a wheel!’ he exclaimed.
‘They’re all linked round a central point where each of the spoke lines meet!’
‘The centre of the wheel’s right in the middle of Chax Forest,’ said Alfie. ‘I bet we were standing on it earlier.’
Ralf couldn’t hold back any longer. He tied the wheel to stay on cou
rse and went to join them. He saw immediately that Alfie was right, but there was more to it than that. Leo said it a moment before Ralf could open his mouth.
‘The hub – the central point is the Black Door!’
Seth gaped at them uncomprehendingly. ‘It’s the Barrow!’ he cried. ‘The burial ground! Where all Winters’ artefacts come from!’
‘Yeah, Seth, we know,’ Ralf soothed. ‘We were down there earlier.’ He quickly told him all about it.
Seth gnawed at his fingernails. ‘I was hoping I was wrong! But it’s worse than I imagined.’
‘So you’re saying the monster legend is true, after all?’ Valen asked.
Seth looked horror struck. ‘You still don’t see? Look! Look at the list!’ He slammed it down on the bulkhead and stabbed at the place names with his finger.
Chax Forest
Chase Fort X
The Fox Scar
Short Face X
Chafes Tor X
Fox Earth C’s
They all stared but still had no idea what Seth was driving at. ‘Wolf! You’re the reader. Isn’t ‘X’ one of the least used letters?’
Ralf frowned. ‘Well, yeah, I suppose it is, but Gloria was writing it quickly so she used an ‘X’ in place of the word ‘Cross’.
‘Yes,’ said Seth, ‘and that’s what I thought, but look! Traditionally Cross is used to denote where rivers, streams or paths cross. Look at the map. Only one of them is an intersection. Around here ‘Cross’ just means ‘X.’
‘Okay, but hang on...’ Ralf’s eyes roamed over the names again. ‘Now, that is weird! All the places are made from the same letters!’
The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue Page 48