by Chris Ward
Benjamin tried to stand and this time he made it shakily to his feet. He closed his eyes, felt for the power, but instead of that destructive rope waiting to be pulled, nothing but a weak thread, like a string about to break, was in its place.
‘I think I’m about out of magic,’ he said.
Miranda came over to stand beside him. ‘We need a plan. Any ideas?’
Benjamin looked at the black smudge of the school, then again at the river. All around, the rain continued to fall, and the river grew wider and wider, slowly overflowing its banks. From where they stood, it arched up around to the north, skirting the line of hills, before disappearing into the haze on the horizon.
‘It’s so simple,’ Benjamin said quietly. ‘We divert the flow of the river and flood the tunnels under the school.’
Miranda snorted. ‘Oh, right. So simple. Me and you? How on Earth do we do that?’
Benjamin limped a few steps downhill. ‘It’s a long shot, but it might be our best chance. First of all, we need an entrance to those tunnels a bit closer to the river. Do you know of one?’
Miranda rolled her eyes. ‘Just for the record, I think this is a stupid idea that has no chance of working. But since we don’t have any other ideas, I’ll play along. You want a tunnel, I’m pretty sure we can find one.’
She stood up, reached out for his hand.
‘Ready?’
‘Ready when you are.’
Miranda nodded. ‘Then let’s go.’
43
STOLEN BOAT
The wooden runners of the toboggan skimmed across the grass, taking Benjamin’s full weight with ease. Miranda part ran, part rode it, jumped off to push it to a faster speed, then jumped back on as it raced down the next hillside, slowly making its way to the bay to the immediate south of the school. The toboggan Miranda had found in the same vehicle store Benjamin had stolen his bicycle from worked partly due to the slick grass and partly due to little touches of Miranda’s magic to give it a kick whenever it slowed.
Finally, they found themselves at the top of a steep cliff path leading down to a beach too dangerous for the toboggan, so they started down on foot, Miranda supporting a hobbling Benjamin.
‘It’s an ocean,’ she said again. ‘It might be full of crazy hybrid creatures, but it still follows ocean rules, and there are people who still fish in it.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ Benjamin said. ‘Though I don’t remember ever eating fish for school lunch.’
‘I’m not sure it’s fish they’re trying to catch,’ she said.
The cliff path steepened, turning back on itself so sharply that at times it didn’t even look like a path at all but a series of ledges all sliding off of each other. Benjamin did his best to walk unaided, using his hands to offset the ache in his burned leg.
The last section of the path was a set of carved steps, and Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief as Miranda helped him down onto the rocky backshore sloping away toward a layer of sand.
He had never been down here before. The cliffs rose up in a tight ring to either side, almost enclosing the bay except for the opening spanned by the rocking rope bridge he had crossed on his first day. To the right rose the headland where he had emerged from the tunnels with the gatekeeper; to their left was the back wall of the school—an uneven tower of stone and concrete built into the cliff face that rose sheer out of the water.
Waves lapped at the shore. The rain had eased, but they were still soaked through. Benjamin pressed his sleeve against his face to ease the pain of the burn.
‘There,’ Miranda said. ‘A boat.’
It looked like a real boat. Others, too, had been pulled up against the beachhead and secured to mooring poles poking up out of the sand. More bobbed not far out in the bay. The shallows and the bay’s narrow entrance kept them safe from the giant cruise-sharks. Who they belonged to was anyone’s guess.
‘Don’t worry,’ Miranda said, thinking she could read Benjamin’s thoughts as they hurried along the shore. ‘We’ll bring it back.’ She grinned. ‘Eventually.’
‘Are you sure you weren’t cloned from a criminal?’ Benjamin asked, then immediately regretted his attempt at a joke when Miranda gave him a sour look.
‘I hope not.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t worry. Come on.’
The boat she chose was a small motorboat with a little cabin and a large outboard motor resting on the sand. Part of the wood had infused with plastic as though it had reanimated to include pieces of ocean waste, but it was thin and sleek and hopefully fast enough to avoid the cruise-sharks.
‘We’re going to get in trouble again,’ Benjamin muttered as they pushed the boat out into the gentle surf and climbed in. ‘They might as well move our dorms into the Locker Room.’
Miranda shrugged. ‘Perhaps they’ll give us a double cubicle, so at least we can complain about the teachers while we clean.’
Benjamin smiled. The idea had a certain twisted romanticism to it. Then, almost as if becoming suddenly self-aware, he tried to shake off the feeling. This isn’t my home, he thought. I’m going back to Basingstoke somehow, and I’m taking David with me.
‘Wow, that must hurt,’ Miranda said. Benjamin looked down, thinking she was referring to his burned leg, but she was staring at the back of his hand. The scratch from the reanimated cat statue glowed a bright orange, its light pulsing as if something lived under his skin. ‘Is that the same one?’
He nodded. ‘It’s getting worse. I think I’m falling apart, piece by little piece.’
Miranda gave him a grim smile. ‘I’m pretty sure Mrs. Martin will have some duct tape in the admissions office somewhere. Hang in there, we’ll fix you up. I’d like to give you a punch for good luck, but you know.’
‘Yeah, hold that one. Save it for Wilhelm.’
Miranda laughed. ‘His account’s already full.’
‘Hey!’
A figure ran out of a dark tunnel entrance at the base of the cliff. It looked like a man, but he was bare-chested and wore only the ragged remains of trousers.
‘That’s my boat!’
‘I think that’s our cue,’ Benjamin said. ‘Have you given any thought as to how you’re going to start this thing?’
Miranda stared at the outboard motor. ‘Push and pull,’ she whispered, frowning.
The engine burst into life, and the boat swung around in a tight circle. Benjamin grabbed the side with one hand just before he was tossed out and stretched for the wheel with his other, pulling the boat back into a straight line. As the man shouted at them from the beach, they headed for the break between the cliffs.
A few minutes later they passed under the thin, swinging rope bridge. ‘It seems like months ago,’ Benjamin said. ‘But it was barely a couple of weeks.’
Miranda smiled. ‘You’ve certainly stirred things up.’
‘And I don’t think I’m done yet.’
Shouting rose up from behind. Several other men had appeared and were jumping into boats to come in pursuit.
‘Can you make it go faster?’ Benjamin asked.
Miranda wiped sweat and spray from the water off of her brow. ‘I’m doing my best!’
The cliffs rose over the top of them, and Benjamin stared up at the rope bridge hanging across the gap that made the entrance to the bay. The memory of that terrifying crossing still brought him out in cold sweats.
They were just passing between the headlands when Miranda gasped and fell back into the bottom of the boat.
‘I … can’t….’
‘You have to!’
‘I’m exhausted!’
Three boats came in pursuit, and they would catch up in less than a minute. Benjamin climbed past Miranda to the outboard motor and tried to start it manually, but it was out of oil. In desperation, he stared at the approaching boats, then began searching around the bottom of their own boat for something that might help.
A couple of oars had been fitted into a rack beneath a seat. H
e pulled the first one out, but when he glanced back at their pursuers, he blinked in surprise. The boats had given up their chase and turned back.
‘What happened?’
Miranda climbed up and staggered back to the motor. The water had become choppier, and the current was spinning them around in a circle. Half a mile out to sea, something huge rose and then dived again.
‘We left the safety of the bay,’ she said.
44
MEMORIES
As the huge cliffs drifted away behind, Benjamin poked an oar into the water and turned them south, while Miranda sat in the back and got the motor started again. Every couple of minutes, though, she had to stop for a break to recover her strength, and each period of motion was shorter than the last as she began to tire.
‘We didn’t think this through,’ Benjamin said.
Miranda aimed a weak punch at his arm. ‘What else could we have done? I hoped the motor might have worked on its own.’
‘Can you make the water push us? Maybe that’s easier.’
Miranda nodded. ‘I’ll give it a go.’
A few minutes later, they were moving south at the head of a little bow of water Miranda lifted up as they passed. Slow progress, and Benjamin wondered what would happen when they finally encountered the cruise-shark, but at least they were moving. They were far off the coast now, and the cliffs moved slowly past them—a rugged undulation of crags, headlands, valleys, and caves, all fronted by bright yellow sand that looked rather inviting. They passed the small inlet where Benjamin had woken up, where lumps shifting in the sand hid the turtle-cars that had tried to eat him.
‘I’ll figure out what this place is one day,’ he said, more to himself than to Miranda, who was still crouched by the back of the boat, concentrating on her makeshift propulsion system. ‘Nothing exists without a reason for existing. It’s basic science.’
‘Well, if you figure out a way to get this motor to move without oil, I’m all for it,’ Miranda gasped. ‘Priorities, please.’
Benjamin glanced out at the horizon. From this low to the water, the edge of the world wasn’t visible, but it was out there somewhere, just a handful of miles distant.
Another mystery to be solved, he thought. What lies over the edge? Is it the end of everything?
The clouds had begun to clear a little, and although the red sun was still lost behind the black bank of storm clouds that covered the school, the yellow sun was making its way toward the horizon. Benjamin was squinting up at it, when something shiny red jumped out of the water and dived in again.
‘That thing,’ he said, turning to Miranda. ‘It’s coming closer.’
‘What is it?’
‘Looks like some kind of snake. The way it jumps like that … it makes me think of sea monsters.’
‘We haven’t seen the cruise-shark yet. Is that thing big enough to divert the river?’
Benjamin shook his head. ‘No way. But it’s fast. Way faster than we can go.’
Miranda turned to glare at him. ‘Perhaps you’d like to use the oars for a while? I appreciate you acting as lookout, but if we don’t get a shift on, we’ll drift right over the edge.’
Benjamin grinned, then winced as it stretched the burn on his face. ‘Sorry. Why don’t you take another break?’
Miranda sat up as Benjamin prodded the oars tentatively over the side, merely keeping them pointed inland.
‘What’s that?’ Miranda said, pointing to the south. ‘The water looks all different.’
The grey-blue of the sea had turned white and choppy, as though a million fish all flapped at the surface at once. As they reached the edge of the whitewater area, lumps of rubbish bumped off the side of the boat, spinning them around. Benjamin righted them, and nodded in understanding.
‘This is the river estuary,’ he said. ‘The river must still be high, and of all this junk is the result.’ He turned and pointed at the farther cliffs. ‘That’s where we must have landed.’ He frowned. ‘That’s strange—’
Miranda dived for the back of the boat and leaned over the edge, making a blowing motion with her lips. A swell of water lifted them up, pushing them through the rubbish and toward the river mouth.
‘No … time … to … mess about…. It’s coming.’
A shiver ran across Benjamin’s shoulders, and he looked at the setting yellow sun, where a line of black funnels poked up out of the water, slowly rising as they moved directly toward the immense discharge of rubbish.
‘The cruise-shark….’
Miranda had tears in her eyes. ‘Benjamin, you’re an idiot. This was a stupid idea. We have no chance of outrunning that thing.’
He joined her at the back, prodding the oars into the water, trying to shovel them forward even as lumps of rubbish struck the bow and jerked them back and forth, spinning them around with the current.
‘Maybe I can use my power,’ he said. ‘There must be a way to make it work—’
‘Just keep rowing!’
The cruise-shark’s massive bow rose out of the water, and an endless stream of rubbish poured like plankton into its open maw. Within a few seconds, it had obscured the sun to become a massive black shadow bearing down on them.
‘We got away once,’ Miranda gasped. ‘It won’t … let us … escape … again.’
Benjamin looked up at it. The monster was perfect for his plan. If only he could get it up the river. He closed his eyes, felt for the rope, and it was there again, powerful and strong, ready to do his bidding … and to take its share of his lifeblood as its reward.
He reached out as something broke the surface midway between their boat and the cruise-shark, appearing for just a few seconds, before ducking down under the water.
Benjamin let go of the rope and turned back to the beach. ‘Did you see that?’ he screamed at Miranda, scanning the coastline. ‘I thought so! I looked, but I couldn’t see—’
The maw of the cruise-shark was right in front of them, and the monster began to lower itself to scoop them up among its next mouthful of rubbish. As it began to rise again, Miranda screamed and clutched hold of Benjamin, pulling him close.
‘If we’re about to die, I just wanted to say—’ she began, until something else pushed out of the water beneath them and steered them away from the cruise-shark. It surfed down the front of the bow wave, pushing them in amongst the flotilla of rubbish as the cruise-shark’s maw crunched down.
‘Lawrence!’
The snake-train’s head poked up out of the water, and Miranda gave an excited yelp, leaning over the back of the boat, rocking it so much Benjamin fell over.
‘Edgar! You’re alive!’
When Benjamin climbed up again, Edgar—looking a little bit disheveled, but otherwise the same as Benjamin remembered—opened up a side door and beckoned for them to jump down onto Lawrence’s nose and climb in. A few daring seconds later, they were sitting inside Lawrence’s locomotive head, soaking wet but strapped into comfortable reclining chairs with a view through the front and side windows.
‘You died!’ Miranda exclaimed, as soon as she got her breath back. ‘Both of you.’
‘I did nothing of the sort,’ Edgar said. ‘I simply gave you the best chance I could to make it back to Lawrence, then I made a tactical retreat.’
‘Where?’
‘I climbed a tree,’ he said, lifting an eyebrow as if letting them in on one of the great secrets of mankind. ‘I climbed the biggest one I could reach, then cast a little spell to keep the wraith-hounds from finding me. Of course, you were long gone, and it was a long journey back from the High Mountains. I managed to hitch a rather secret ride on a ghoul train, though.’
‘And what about Lawrence? Godfrey blew him up.’
‘He reanimated.’
Benjamin stared. ‘So quickly? We thought he was dead.’
‘It took a while to track down the rest of him, and he’s still a little sore, but he’ll live. Aren’t you learning yet? Things don’t live or die here in the same
ways they do where you’re from.’
‘I guess not.’
Edgar’s expression turned grave. ‘It doesn’t mean they can’t, though. And I’d suggest that from the size of the army I sneaked along behind, the Dark Man has a few ways to make people proper dead. So now, how about you tell me what you’ve been up to since we last met? And why on Earth were you floating around out there?’
Benjamin told Edgar their plan, and Edgar gave a thoughtful nod.
‘Lawrence can do a far better job of leading that cruise-shark than you could have done.’ He shouted some instructions to Lawrence, and the snake-train slowed right down, the sloshing water calmingagainst the windows. From their vantage point, it was impossible to see if the cruise-shark was still behind them, but Lawrence suddenly lifted his head and gave a high-pitched whistle.
‘He’s taunting it,’ Edgar said. ‘Don’t ask me what he’s saying, but I’ve been around long enough to understand how many of these creatures think.’
Lawrence bolted forward, throwing them all back in their seats, and the sea rushed past the windows. Then they were under the surface, encased in an aquamarine tank.
‘Most of the rubbish floats,’ Edgar said. ‘We need to get under it so Lawrence doesn’t get slowed down.’
‘Where does it all come from?’ Benjamin asked. ‘It’s like the most polluted river of all time, times a hundred. Whoever’s dumping all this must be so wasteful. I bet even the rivers in India aren’t this bad!’
Edgar smiled. ‘That’s a mystery for you to solve another day, Master Forrest. For now, we have more pressing engagements.’
Lawrence broke the surface and let out another high-pitched whistle. This time, he turned back toward the open ocean and through the front of the train, they saw the cruise-shark lumbering in pursuit.
Lawrence picked up speed as he headed up the river estuary, ducking under the water for a while, then resurfacing, checking that the cruise-shark was following, then swimming through the surface rubbish for a while, making sure the sea monster could follow. The ride through the water, as Lawrence swung his mighty body back and forth to propel them, was far more comfortable than the journey over land, and Benjamin actually enjoyed the journey upriver. He closed his eyes and thought of home, trying to remember what had happened to bring him here, but the memory of that day in the forest was getting vaguer and vaguer…