B00DW1DUQA EBOK, page 29
He kicked out, hoping he was swimming upwards. He hit something solid with his knee – a wall or the floor? – and tried to push of from it, up to the surface.
For a moment he broke through, a confusion of wooden spars rushing past nearby. He sucked in a gulp of air but he was pulled back down again and swallowed water instead. Then everything went black. Was this what it was like to drown? The swirling water tossed him around and there was nothing he could do.
Chapter 28
A hand grasped Finn’s shoulder and Finn, clutching at it, kicked upwards. He broke out of the water and sucked in gulps of air. Diane was there, her head visible and invisible between the waves. Light flooded down from above, brighter and brighter as they soared up to the surface. They were near the top. Somehow the water would be emptied out of the bucket before hurtling back down to pick up more. They just had to escape with it.
‘Ready?’ he shouted across to her. She was too busy trying to stay above the water and didn’t reply. Finn looked up. He could see blue sky now, blindingly bright. They soared past the ground level, past a blur of buildings and towers, the skyline of Engn, and still upwards. The wheels were vast. If they were tipped out of the bucket now they would fall a long, long way.
Distinctly, Finn heard a metallic chunk sound. He recognized it from down in the mine.
‘The pivot lock,’ he shouted, trying to explain to Diane what he’d just understood. ‘It must get applied automatically up here. As the wheel turns we’ll be tipped out!’
Panic surged through him. Already he could see the water was no longer horizontal within the bucket but angled towards the far lip as the wheel descended. They were hurtling back towards the ground now, inside a water-filled bucket that was about to pitch them out. He screamed; wanted, suddenly, to stay inside, go back round, anything to avoid what was to come. Water filled his mouth. Coughing, he reached out for the tarred wooden wall and tried to grab hold of it. Of anything solid. But the wood was too smooth and wet and he could get no grip.
The water tipped over the far side of the bucket, then began to flood out. There was nothing he could do to stop himself. Their arms flailing uselessly, he and Diane were tipped into the air, falling inside their own, brief waterfall back down towards the ground. He could make out no detail as he span around. The water would be collected somehow but for all he knew they would be dashed against a grill, or there was a narrow pipe they would simply miss. He tried to scream out but couldn’t.
Then deep water engulfed him once again. He was about to start swimming when his head clashed against something solid, metallic. Reality faded into the distance and darkness overwhelmed him.
‘Finn! Wake up.’
A hand shook him roughly. He opened his eyes but could see only white light. It filled his head as pain: sharp pain. His stomach heaved and he retched, turning to kneel up as he vomited water.
Squinting with one eye he looked to his side. Diane was there, one hand on the back of his head. She looked worried. Exhausted too, her shoulders heaving up and down.
‘We made it,’ said Finn between breaths.
‘Next time you have an escape plan you’re going on your own, hear me?’
‘What happened?’
‘It tipped us out into a channel underneath the curve of the wheel. Didn’t you see?’
‘I hit my head.’
‘The channel emptied out into this reservoir. I thought you’d drowned. I towed you here to the side.’
Finn looked around, the light a little more bearable now. They were on the steeply-sloping stone bank of a vast man-made lake. Nearby he could see six circular entrances, great plumes of water cascading out of five of them in regular surges. Above them were the wheels, the five churning around and the one stationary. Beyond them, and all around the lip of the reservoir, were the familiar towers and wheels of the machine. They were out.
‘Ironclads,’ he said. ‘Have you seen any Ironclads?’
‘None. They probably thought no-one would be stupid enough to try what we just did.’
He grinned at her through the pain. Her words were angry but there was a warmth to them too.
‘It worked though,’ he said.
‘And we nearly died in the process. I thought you had died.’
Finn stood to shaky legs and held out a hand to pull her up.
‘I would have drowned without you,’ he said.
She shrugged and stood too, holding her back and wincing at the pain. He wondered what it had cost her to swim ashore and pull him along as well.
‘And I’d still be stuck down there without you. Forget about it. The question is, where to now?’
Finn looked around. They must be visible for miles, two black spots on the grey rim of the lake. They’d probably been seen already. ‘We can’t stay here. They’ll have raised the alarm down in the mines.’
‘Come on,’ said Diane. She led him upwards towards the lip of the reservoir wall. It was hard to climb the steep slope and keep his feet, dizzy as he was. Eventually, grasping for the wall at the top, he lay down to peer over the lip.
The outside world lay before them, the stone ramparts of the reservoir sloping almost vertically down to the ground some thirty of forty feet below. The builders must have decided this was all the wall they needed here. They were right. It would surely be impossible to climb that smooth expanse of stone. At the foot of the wall, far below, the ground was dried mud and then the grass plain began. On the horizon, rising through distant haze, ran a line of snow-topped mountains he didn’t recognize. A string of line-of-sight towers strode off across the plain towards them.
‘It’s too far to jump down,’ said Diane. ‘We’d break our legs.’
She looked thoughtful, glancing up and down the wall. She must have faced many such adventures in the years the Ironclads had pursued her. Finn was glad, very glad, she was there with him.
‘What’s that over there?’ she asked.
‘What?’
Diane set off running along the top of the steep bank, half-crouching and keeping one hand on the wall. Further along was a chain, one end embedded in the bank, its other beneath the water of the reservoir. The two of them half-slid down the bank to reach the point where the chain was bolted to the stone.
It was as thick as Finn’s arm, and very rusty, but it would easily support their weight. If it was possible to haul it up and lower it over the side. Finn walked down the chain to the water’s edge, hoping to see a corroded link at which they could break it. But there were none.
‘Let’s see if we can haul it up,’ said Diane.
Finn returned to the anchor point and the two of them lifted the chain to try and heave it up. They couldn’t move it.
‘Let’s try nearer the water,’ said Diane.
They skidded and slid down to the reservoir’s edge. The chain disappeared into the rippling waters, its rusty links disappearing into the murk after a few yards. If it was attached to something down there, there was little they could do.
Again they heaved, Diane wincing at the pain it caused her. This time the chain moved, two links coming out of the water.
‘Keep going,’ she shouted.
They pulled again and more of the chain rattled out of the water and up the bank. It took a lot of effort; the chain was heavy and soon very slippery. They were both weak. But at least the chain didn’t appear to be attached to anything. After a few minutes of hauling and resting and hauling, the other end was revealed. A hook was attached to the end that must, once, have been attached to something beneath the water.
They paused for a moment to get their breaths back. A sharp pain thrummed in Finn’s shoulders but he knew they couldn’t stop. He grasped the hook and began to climb the steep slope of the reservoir. Diane joined him. It became harder and harder as they towed more and more of the chain. Between them, leaning into the slope, they inched their way upwards.
He didn’t think they were going to make it. Twice he slipped over and the chain rattled back down the slope a short way. They must have been heard by now even if they hadn’t been seen. But finally, Diane grasping the top of the wall with one hand, gritting her teeth, they managed to get the hook over the lip of the wall. Then it was a matter of hauling more and more of it over, link by link, until it reached a point where the weight of chain hanging down to the ground was enough.
‘Look out!’ Diane shouted.
The chain suddenly had a life of its own, rattling over the top of the wall at greater and greater speed in a cloud of dust. Then it stopped, held taut by the anchor point half-way down to the water.
Finn peered over the edge again. The chain was more than long enough to reach the floor. Its other end lay in coils on the dusty ground.
‘I’ll go first,’ said Diane. ‘Keep watch.’
She climbed over the edge of the wall and began to descend. The chain swayed as she worked her way down. She’d be completely vulnerable if the Ironclads came now, but there was no sign of anyone. Perhaps they really were going to escape.
Diane dropped the last few yards to the ground and looked up. ‘Come on, Finn. You now.’
Finn swung his legs over the edge and hooked an arm through one of the links. The chain swung around, bashing him against the wall, almost jarring him loose. He began to work his way down, feeling for each foothold. The muscles in his stomach and arms quivered from the effort of it. He had to carry on; he didn’t have the strength to climb back up again. When he was near enough the ground, he let go and landed in a heap beside Diane.
‘They’ll know what we’ve done,’ she said. ‘There’s no way we can get the chain back up.’
Finn nodded. ‘We’ll just have to get away as far as we can. Hope they don’t see us.’
Diane looked doubtful now. ‘I don’t think we’re going to get very far. You can see for miles across this plain. A few Ironclads on horses will catch us up easily.’
Finn said nothing, gazing around at the scene, trying to come up with a clever plan. He looked back at Diane. She looked exhausted, close to tears. He must look worse. But they couldn’t just give in now. They’d come so far.
‘There’s one place they wouldn’t think of looking for us,’ he said.
‘Where?’
‘Back inside. They’ll assume we’ve fled across the plain.’
‘Finn, no. I’m never going back in there. In any case, what are you going to do, shin back up the chain?’
‘No. But we could, I don’t know, walk around the walls, maybe find another way in.’
‘Well, I’m going to try and get away. I don’t care what happens.’
‘But we can’t just leave.’
She turned on him, angry now. ‘Listen, Finn, I know you’ve got these wild ideas in your head of destroying Engn, all these dreams you cling to of Connor and our silly game. But it’s not real, do you hear me? None of it is real. You can’t destroy all that. They’re going to try to catch us and kill us. And I’m going to try to get away. At least I’ll die free, in the open air.’
She turned and strode away from the walls.
‘Diane!’ Finn called after her, but she didn’t glance back.
He hurried after her. He could let her go, of course. But the thought of losing her again after all this time was too much. Perhaps she was right. At the very least, they needed to get out of sight, stop and think.
‘Look, you can’t just walk across the plain, out in the open like this,’ he said. ‘You’ll have no chance.’
‘I like it better than your plan.’
‘OK, but look. Let’s head for the line-of-sight towers.’
‘The towers?’
‘We can hide in the nearest one. Wait there until it’s dark, come up with a plan. Perhaps we can walk from one to the next, at night, so they won’t see us.’
‘What’s the point? They’re bound to check them.’
‘Maybe, but it’s better than walking across the plain in full view isn’t it?’
She stopped, then, and turned to look at him. ‘You’ll come too?’
He’d thought she’d wanted to get away from him. Now the look of frank fear in her face told him otherwise. What must it have been like all those years on her own, living in the wilds, always running?
‘I might,’ he said. ‘I don’t know. But we can’t stay here.’
‘Let’s go then.’
They broke into a jog, heading for the nearest line-of-sight tower. It would take them an hour or more even if they could maintain the same pace and they’d be visible from the walls all the way. As they jogged, Finn looked backwards, constantly expecting to see pursuit. There was nothing. But, of course, even if the Ironclads knew where they were they would have to leave Engn by a gate. They were probably galloping towards them even now, around the curve of the wall. They had to get out of sight.
He spurted forwards to try and hurry them on, although he didn’t have the energy to keep it up and soon slowed again. Diane jogged along beside him, panting heavily. When had they last eaten? He couldn’t even work it out.
From the reservoir wall the grass plain had looked featureless, stretching uninterrupted to the distant mountains. Now he saw there were undulations in it: dips and rises that became surprisingly steep when you tried to cross them. They reached the bottom of one of the dips and, looking backwards, Finn found he could no longer see the towers and wheels of the great machine. They were out of sight for the moment.
‘This way,’ he said, turning sharply left and following the line of the little valley. Perhaps it would confuse anyone following them.
‘It won’t make much difference,’ said Diane, her words punctuated by her laboured breathing. ‘They have dogs. They’ll track us.’
‘Perhaps we’ll find water,’ said Finn. ‘A lake or a river. Remember how you used the Silverburn to hide your trail when you came to the valley?’
She didn’t reply, too out of breath. Finn wondered how bad her injuries from her fall from the wheel were. They ran on for some way, going parallel to the walls of Engn. Sooner or later they would have to leave the fold of earth that hid them and strike out, towards the tower. He was just about to suggest it when the fold rounded a bend to reveal a ramshackle collection of wooden huts, five of them. Each had been cobbled together from branches and planks and sheets of rusting iron.
They stopped, glancing at each other, neither sure what they should do.
‘I can’t see anyone,’ said Finn. The houses looked deserted, roofs hanging off at angles, doors banging and banging in the slight breeze that blew up the valley. ‘Perhaps we could hide here until dark.’
‘No. They’d still sniff us out,’ said Diane. ‘Anyway, who lived here?’
‘People looking for their loved ones,’ said Finn. ‘I saw another village like this when they brought me in. Perhaps they’re dotted all around.’
‘Let’s go and see.’
They walked down towards the huts, always wary that someone could burst out at them. There was no-one. They stood in a rough little square surrounded by the broken hovels.
‘Perhaps we should look for food?’ said Finn.
‘No. Let’s get away. We’ll just be trapped here if they come.’
They set off, leaving the hovels behind them. Only then did they hear a thin voice, a hiss almost, calling out to them. ‘You two, come here. Quick.’
They turned but there was no-one in sight. The wind continued to lift and release loose roof-sheets and bang doors. Except that one of the doors didn’t swing shut. Finn was sure he’d seen it move but now it was held open. Inside he could see nothing but shadows.
‘They might be able to help us,’ said Finn. ‘Let’s see what they want.’
Diane looked doubtful. ‘I don’t like it. Whoever they are they’ll probably just try to hand us over to the Ironclads. Let’s go. I don’t like it here.’
‘But perhaps they can hide us. Perhaps they’re friends.’
She wanted to think they were, he could see, but her fear of being caught again was too great.
‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and talk to them. If it’s OK I’ll wave to you. Otherwise just get away, head for the tower.’
She looked doubtful, but nodded her head in agreement.
Finn walked back towards the hovels, towards the one whose door stayed open. It was, he noticed, the best-repaired of all the huts, its roof intact.
‘Hello?’ he said, approaching the open doorway. ‘Who are you?’
‘Come in, quick, before they see you.’
Finn pushed the creaking door further open and peered inside the darkness of the hut. It smelt of damp and rot. A grim place to live. Cracks and holes in the walls let in thin beams of light and Finn was reminded of the Switch House up on the hill, and Mrs. Megrim telling him off for his latest misdemeanour.
‘Who are you?’ he said again. He stepped just inside the doorway.
‘Running from the Ironclads are you?’
‘No,’ said Finn.
‘Course you are. Why else would you be out here? Come on, I can hide you from them. You and your frightened rabbit of a friend.’
‘Hide us? How?’
The voice collapsed into spluttered coughing for a moment. It was a man, Finn was sure, an old man by the sound of it.
‘I know how to hide from them. They ride through here but they never see me, never smell me out.’
‘How? Who are you?’
A face loomed out of the darkness then: sunken and wrinkled, like that of someone worn down by years of heavy labour.
‘Come on,’ said the man. ‘I won’t harm you. I’ve no love for the Ironclads either.’
