Moriarty- The Road

by Jack Spain

  Balor was stunned and stepped backwards in disbelief. Grogan continued, ‘He has his heavy earth-moving machinery parked up in his yard in town waiting for new drivers. He’ll be bringing it here to widen my driveway into the hill and then they’ll slice the hill in half for the road. He reckons it will take about two weeks to cut into it. They know about the rock in the hill and will be calling in explosives experts to blast through parts of it.’

  ‘They’ll blow us up!’

  ‘I know,’

  ‘That was my idea,’ Balor snapped. ‘He stole it from me!’

  ‘You were going to blow yourselves up?’

  ‘No. McManus.’

  ‘You were going to blow McManus up,’ said Grogan in morbid disbelief.

  ‘Of course not. We were going to blow up his site,’ Balor corrected him. ‘When he wasn’t there, of course. It would be pointless now, especially with the friends of the earth camped out all over it. Everything seems to be going wrong. No. I wouldn’t blow anyone up.’

  ‘You had me worried there, Balor. Still, it looks like you’re the ones getting blown up now.’

  ‘How the world turns on us, eh? Still we’ll have a couple of days to evacuate the hill at least?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Grogan replied. ‘They said something about drilling into the hill tomorrow morning. What on earth are you going to do?’

  Balor didn’t reply. He looked up at Grogan, clearly shocked. It seemed as if all of the colour had drained from his face as he realised that all of the sabotage on the main site had just brought the road to the hill a month early.

  ‘You’ll think of something,’ Grogan reassured him. ‘Every problem is just an opportunity waiting to be uncovered. Isn’t that what you always say?’

  ‘I’m—’ Balor cut himself short. He had no time to lose discussing the situation with Grogan. ‘We’ll need your help to evacuate,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ Grogan replied determinedly. ‘Anything you need. Anything at all.’

  Balor spun around and ran across the yard. ‘I’ll be back,’ he yelled as he ran. He had no time to lose if he had to arrange for the evacuation of nearly four hundred or so residents of the hill in less than a day.

  Balor had to wait for Michael McManus and the engineers to leave before he could make his way back to the hill with the news. Even that was perilous because some more men in fluorescent coats turned up as he was making his way up the hill. Hiding in the entrance, he saw them begin to spray the ground on the hill with bright orange crosses. Balor assumed that these were for the drilling, to find out what the hill was made of. From what he could tell, the marks were right above the village.

  He ran down the dark zigzag tunnel into the main cavern where he was greeted by a sight of general pandemonium. All of the people walking around the outside of the hill had set off the early-warning systems. He glanced over at a model of the hill which had lights flashing all over it.

  ‘What’s going on out there, Balor?’ the Captain of the Guard demanded to know.

  ‘The roadworks,’ Balor replied solemnly. ‘They’ve arrived here.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ the Captain replied, totally astonished.

  Balor didn’t reply. He just grabbed the Captain by the arm and practically frogmarched him towards the King’s residence. They had to force their way through a crowd of people who were eager for reassurance that the warning lights were just a flock of birds or sheep. Balor and the Captain refused to answer any questions and, when they reached the King’s residence, they closed the door firmly behind them.

  Moriarty, Morphu and Chopper had an enormously difficult time getting back to the hill. It was covered in engineers and workmen who were spraying paint on the ground and inserting markers all over the place. It took almost an hour of waiting to see a gap long enough to make the quick dash up the hill and into the tunnel. Like Balor before them, they were surprised at the sheer amount of panic going on in the hill. Seamus, one of the King’s guards, was waiting for them inside and immediately ordered them to the King’s residence. Fearing the worst, they promptly obeyed and quickly made their way to the front door of the residence where they were ushered inside.

  ‘Get that bloody zombie out of here!’ yelled the King. His office was packed with his closest advisors, Balor and half of the King’s Guard. Realising that the King was in a foul mood, Moriarty nodded to Morphu to leave, and closed the door behind him.

  ‘Brief me on the state of the building site,’ demanded the King. Balor was seated in a corner and looked up. Moriarty took a deep breath and stepped forward. The room became deathly silent.

  ‘All of the machines and the markers and the engineering huts were gone. All that remained were the portable toilets. About a hundred environmentalists have camped on the building site. We didn’t know where everyone else was. We waited until well after dawn to see if the workmen would turn up but they didn’t. Not a soul. When we got back here, we found the hill crawling with workmen putting up markers and painting the crosses on the ground. We overheard one of the men talking about digging up the driveway to Grogan’s house in preparation for some drilling equipment,’ Moriarty told the King.

  There was a short pause when he had finished before the room erupted into a heated debate about evacuation. Moriarty noticed that the only silent people in the room were the King, Balor and himself. A dark shroud of defeat had descended over everyone and panic ensued. The King’s thundering voice ordered everyone to quieten down and, when the room was silent, he turned to Balor. He didn’t need to say anything; when Balor looked up at him, he knew exactly what to do.

  ‘Evacuate,’ said the King. It wasn’t a question. The room exploded into debate again, and once more the King silenced them. Balor, looking very defeated, sat up straight in the seat and addressed the room.

  ‘There are three hundred and ninety people in this hill. The nearest place we can evacuate to is Carrickhill and even that is dangerous. It was abandoned a long time ago when the river beside it eroded the walls of the cavern to within a few feet. It could flood at any time. It has no communications, no electricity, no running water, which is ironic, and, more importantly, it is in an area with limited food. We need to bring plenty of supplies there or people will starve to death. I estimate that it will take us forty-eight hours to pack up and get out with enough to survive until we have the basic supply lines re-established.’

  ‘So, it’s bad, but how would we get there?’ said the Captain of the Guard.

  ‘Balor reckons that Grogan could take us in his van,’ replied the King. ‘I estimate three trips. The hill has to be reopened too. Abandoned hills are often booby-trapped. That could take some time. But, we don’t have forty-eight hours. Do we, Balor?’

  ‘No,’ Balor replied, sounding completely defeated. ‘We have until tomorrow morning. Less than twenty-four hours to pack up everything that we need, sneak out of the hill unseen, reopen Carrickhill and move.’

  ‘Can it be done?’ asked the Captain.

  ‘We’ll have to try,’ insisted the King. Then he turned around to look at everyone else in the room. ‘I want a solution to evacuating the hill in twenty hours on my desk in sixty minutes. Now jump to it!’

  Everyone looked at each other and began to shuffle out of the King’s office, except for Balor who remained seated in the corner. Moriarty was unsure if he had to leave. He certainly had no role to play in planning an evacuation. Balor’s defeated demeanour made him stay and, when the King told him to close the door, he realised that he was to remain in the room. The King walked back to his desk and slumped into his grand chair. He looked at Moriarty for a moment and then spun the chair around to face Balor who was sitting to his left. The King and Balor just looked at each other for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say. Finally the King slipped open a drawer and pulled out a bottle and four small glasses. He opened the bottle and began to fill the glasses, one at a time.

  ‘One for each of us and one for friends no
longer with us,’ the King said in a quiet voice. Balor forced a grin and then looked at the King and Moriarty in turn. Moriarty was not a drinker and never touched alcohol. The King offered him a glass and he declined.

  ‘Drinking is not a sin,’ the King told him. ‘The abuse of drink is a sin. Besides, it’s not the good stuff. This is only seven hundred years old.’

  Moriarty looked to Balor who nodded to assure him that it would be all right. When all three little men had a glass, the King began to speak.

  ‘Well, this is certainly the tightest spot that we have ever been in,’ he told Balor.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Balor replied sincerely.

  ‘Oh. What have you to be sorry for? I should have got you to go down there and blow up that building site for once and for all and be done with it. I half thought you would, too, although I could never actually have given the order. I’d be blamed for it if it went wrong. We couldn’t have that.’

  Balor and Moriarty looked at each other for a moment. After all was said and done, the King was very much like them, only he couldn’t be seen to be.

  ‘When nobody was there of course,’ said the King. ‘Don’t think I don’t know that you have been dabbling in explosive things, Balor. The rest of them here may ignore the bangs from your laboratory but I don’t.’

  ‘Too late now,’ Balor remarked.

  The King looked at him. ‘You gave Michael McManus hell. If it was just Michael McManus you were fighting, I’m sure that he would have been no match for you. You cannot beat all these Irishmen as they tear up their countryside in the name of progress.’

  ‘What now?’ Moriarty asked the two men. Balor looked at the King.

  ‘You heard the order. We have to evacuate to Carrickhill,’ the King replied. ‘Actually, getting to the hill is the least of our problems. Our biggest problem is that about 20 per cent of the people living in this hill have never really been out of it. We also have a large number over the age of 1,700, so they are less able to cope with the massive upheaval. On top of that, because we won’t be able to move many supplies, there will be limited resources and food. Balor knew this, which is why he chose to fight. Even if we move, people are going to die.’

  Balor looked up at the King with a shocked look on his face. The King interpreted this as a confirmation of what he had just said. Balor had other reasons but decided to keep them quiet. The King raised his glass.

  ‘We won’t be able to take this with us, so drink up,’ he ordered the other two little men.

  ‘I don’t feel much like drinking,’ Balor said. ‘After all, I probably brought Michael McManus to the hill a bit quicker. I’m sure that half the population of the hill will be demanding that I be banished.’

  ‘Banished?’ The King was astonished. ‘How on earth can you sit there and believe such a thing? Now, if you discount all the cheating, conning, scheming, gambling and trouble that you have caused, especially that wedding you ruined and the problems that duck brought on us and—’ The King paused for a moment when he realised he was giving a list of reasons why Balor should be banished. ‘There were two druids here before you, Balor,’ he continued. ‘The first one was a drunk and spent all of his time telling us to believe in fate and destiny. If someone was ill, he said it was his or her fate or destiny. Whenever I sought advice, he told me that I would be guided by the greater good. None of that ever worked. I’m a king, a politician. How am I to know what the greater good is when I asked what it was in the first place?’

  The King stood up and began to pace around the room as if in some mad temper. ‘Then there was the second one who spent all of his time praying and none of his time doing anything, and we all felt grateful that we had such a holy man in our presence. When he died, we were really sad, but nothing really changed. Then you came to us. When we were hungry, you fed us; when we were bored, you entertained us; when our spirits were low, you raised them. If someone was sick, you did your damnedest to make them well again, as good as any human doctor. Of course with the exception of poor old Cormac who became Morphu the Zombie. Nobody is perfect. Whenever we needed anything, you got it. You delivered, albeit at a price. After the trouble with the duck, the only person who would want you out of the hill is Betty Black, and nobody listens to her diatribe about saving the planet any more anyway. When we’re suckers, you never give us an even break, but it’s a small price to pay. Moriarty!’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Moriarty was startled.

  ‘Marry that girl Betty and be done with it. I need someone else for her to complain to. She’s driving me insane. I’m getting bored with video games too. I need a good hunt!’

  Balor stood up and grinned. He held his glass up to the King to announce a toast. It was all very surreal to Moriarty but he held his glass up too and Balor made the toast.

  ‘Never give a sucker an even break,’ Balor proudly toasted. The King and Balor downed their drinks in one shot and began to cough and thump their chests immediately. Moriarty pretended to drink his by throwing it over his shoulder. The King croaked and looked at him.

  ‘Damn, boy, you can hold your drink,’ he told Moriarty as he had an empty glass and wasn’t coughing or thumping his chest.

  There was then a silence that lasted nearly a whole minute as the three men thought about what to do next. Moriarty had a thought. He turned to Balor.

  ‘If the machines are not at the roadworks, where are they?’ he asked.

  ‘The machines,’ Balor replied. ‘They would be at the storage yard in town.’

  ‘The drills — they would probably be the same as the ones we’ve seen them use before, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Attached to arms on the diggers,’ Balor replied.

  ‘McManus always took the machines to the yard to have the attachments changed. They’re probably there now being fitted,’ Moriarty went on.

  ‘What are you driving at, boy?’ the King asked.

  ‘Why don’t we go to the yard and sabotage all of the machines in one go? It would take McManus days to repair them. That will buy us time to evacuate properly,’ Moriarty suggested.

  ‘Balor?’ the King turned to Balor.

  ‘It could work,’ Balor replied. ‘He’ll need a lot of men to do it.’

  ‘He can take the entire King’s Guard. Moriarty, how do we sabotage the machines?’

  ‘By cutting the pipes in the engine bay with hacksaws in hard-to-reach places,’ Moriarty replied. ‘We are small. We can get into hard to reach places. The Irishmen cannot. They’ll spend hours removing components to get at the damage.’

  The King looked to Balor. ‘Would it work?’ he asked.

  ‘Very possibly,’ replied Balor. ‘Or we could set fire to them?’

  ‘To risky,’ said Moriarty. ‘We would have to set fire to them all at once, and it would be hard to smuggle in the materials to do that. It has to be clean and precise. Small tools, small men, small amount of time. Being small is our advantage.’

  The King looked impressed. ‘I like the way you think, young man.’

  With that the King jumped up and almost raced to the door and swung it open. He yelled out for the Captain of the Guard who came as quickly as he could. The King closed the door behind him and paced back to his desk. He looked up at the Captain.

  ‘I’m seconding all of your men to Moriarty for a special mission. They are to do exactly as he says. The safety of the people in the hill depends on it,’ the King ordered.

  ‘You’re what?’ The Captain was astonished. ‘Moriarty isn’t even a sworn-in guard.’

  The King turned to Moriarty.

  ‘Do you swear that the testimony that you shall give will—’ then he stopped and thought. ‘Wrong oath. Aw hell. Do you swear to be a good guard?’

  ‘I do,’ Moriarty replied, more than a little unsure as to what a good guard was.

  ‘You cannot do this,’ argued the Captain. ‘Guards are appointed by election.’

  ‘A democracy, eh?’ the King replied. ‘One king, one vote. I vote Mor
iarty to lead a special mission. Referendum over. Balor!’

  ‘Yes, your worthiness?’ Balor replied enthusiastically.

  ‘Your what?’ And then the King smiled. ‘Get them anything they need.’

  He stood up straight and looked at the three men.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ he bellowed. ‘An invitation? Get out there and buy me that time, Moriarty!’

  A Daring Mission

  Midnight. The whole town was shrouded in the amber haze of the streetlights. A brand new black Ford Transit long wheelbase van slowly drew to a halt outside the bank opposite the entrance to the builder’s yard, and its lights were turned off. There it remained, and no one climbed out. Old Man Grogan sat in the driver’s seat of his van looking out. It was dark and he was wearing sunglasses. Moriarty, who was standing with Balor in the passenger seat, looked at Old Man Grogan dismissively as they waited, and then, after a bit of thought, he put on his own pair of dark sunglasses. The entire King’s Guard were sitting waiting in the back of the van and, so as not to feel left out, they rummaged through their pockets and put on their sunglasses too. Balor, who had been concentrating on the builder’s yard, stood back from the dashboard and rubbed his chin while he planned the operation. When he turned around, he was amazed by the sight of everyone wearing sunglasses.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ he yelled under his breath to Moriarty.

  ‘How should I know? I’m copying Grogan,’ Moriarty replied. Balor looked up at Old Man Grogan who looked back.

  ‘I saw it on television,’ Old Man Grogan began, ‘We are incognito.’

  ‘Incog what?’ Balor barked back under his breath.

  ‘I’m trying not to look suspicious.’

  ‘Me too,’ Moriarty added, and the King’s Guard nodded.