The Island of Whispers (16 page)

Twisted Foot
began the climb. The others followed in the same formation as
during the first, aborted attempt. As before, their progress was
easy, and it was not long before Twisted Foot reached the top of
the arch. He was on the point of stretching up to climb through the
parapet above the arch when two explosions, one coming immediately
after the other, split the air asunder and momentarily lit up the
sky; even the giant itself seemed to tremble at the ferocity of the
blasts. The line of fugitives froze in terror.

One Eye had
been dozing again when Torn Coat re-entered the underworld to rouse
him and pass on Long Snout’s instructions. Now the two old warriors
were squatting side by side at the head of the ranks of the
Hunters. Both of them were very tired – One Eye from the long
period of inactivity here at the pool, Torn Coat from the constant
scurrying back and forth between the crest of the island and the
sacred tunnel in the course of that long daylight watch – but both
were also ready for the fray that was about to begin.

Although most
of the Scavengers were in their lair, still sleeping off the
effects of the battle and the great feast after it, a good number
of them had returned to gorge themselves again on the corpses in
the Common lair. They’ll be gone soon enough, thought One Eye. Then
he turned to regard his warriors.

‘
Let’s go,’ he said quietly.

As soon as he
spoke, a detachment led by Torn Coat moved off quickly and silently
round the wall of the Common lair to seal off the tunnel to the
Scavengers’ dungeon. The main force with One Eye at its head then
spread itself across the floor of the Common lair and rushed
forward with bloodcurdling shrieks.

From his
position outside of the entrance to the Protectors’ lair, with
Broken Tail and his warriors hidden from view in the tunnel behind
him, Long Snout heard the muffled echoes of the two explosions on
the world above. He looked up to the roof of the lair and cursed
the Two-Legs again. But there was no time to think about their
latest evil; One Eye had begun the charge.

–
o –

–
Chapter Thirty-Five –

Still reeling
at the sudden thunder of the detonations, the crowd gasped when,
equally unexpectedly, the sky was lit up by the powerful beams of a
battery of searchlights from a score of boats moored at intervals
along the estuary. The beams crisscrossed the sky, each one
travelling in a wide arc across it, some intermittently washing
over and highlighting a section of the rust-coloured bridge.

‘
Now we enter the dark and ominous days of the Second World
War,’ the announcer continued his narration of the history of the
bridge. ‘On October 16P
^thP
1939, only months after the
outbreak of the War, and almost exactly fifty-one years to this
day, the Luftwaffe came to destroy the bridge. But it was truly her
lucky day, for she emerged unscathed from that attack. And, of
course, she survived the rest of the War to reign over the
landscape for the next five decades.’

As the
searchlights went out one by one and the large silver moon
re-appeared still hanging in the black sky, the narration
resumed:

‘
And here she is today, on her one hundredth birthday, still
reigning supreme, as majestic as ever.’

There was a
long pause.

‘
And now ladies, gentlemen and children,’ the voice rang out,
louder than before, ‘to celebrate that birthday, the moment that
we’ve all been waiting for ...’

Each time a
beam had swept over that part of the bridge, it had exposed the
twelve small bodies clinging to the top of the arch, their black
fur erect, almost rigid, with cold and fright. Each time, too,
twelve pairs of fear-filled eyes glinted and blinked in the glare
of the beam. They had stayed as still as stones. Then the intervals
between the beams had grown longer, until the lights disappeared
altogether, and they could breathe again.

Twisted Foot
was the first to move. He climbed up to the parapet, through its
crisscross spars and onto the wooden floor of the walkway behind
it. The others scrambled up to join him. In seconds, they were all
on the walkway, huddled together again, nuzzling into each other.
Even although they were now inside the belly of the giant, they
felt safe for the first time in a long time.

That feeling
was not to last, however. The walkway stretched away into the
distance ahead of them. No sooner had they set off along it, the
youngsters twittering excitedly, when they heard the first of a
series of loud whooshing noises below them. They looked down
through the parapet to see that the creature on the top of the
island was enveloped in smoke and spitting fire in all directions.
Bolts of fire from it were shooting high into the sky, where they
were exploding in bursts of brilliant light and deafening noise.
Soon the bursts filled the whole sky. The light and the noise from
them were far more intense and prolonged than from the couple of
detonations that they had heard earlier.

Unlike the
crowds of sightseers gathered round the shores of the estuary, the
fugitives had no desire to gape in wonder at the magic and colour
of the pyrotechnic wizardry. Instead, terrified, acting on reflex,
they scurried down from the walkway and retreated into the centre
of the bridge. There, on the narrow, gravel-covered aisle between
the two railway tracks, they cowered down, trembling, their eyes
shut tight against this latest assault on their senses.

Twisted Foot
tried to shout above the racket.

‘
We’ll be safe here,’ he was saying. But he was wrong
again.

They could
feel the creature before they heard it or saw it; the whole of the
giant seemed to be shaking under the weight of it. It was coming
from behind them, rushing towards them. Like the creature on the
island, it was spitting bolts of fire.

‘
Oh, no!’ squealed Small Face in utter despair.

The second
battle of the underworld was just as ferocious and as noisy as the
first one, but this time it was the Scavengers who were under
attack. While the majority of them were trapped in their own lair,
unable to pass the wall of Hunters at its entrance, several hundred
had been in the Common lair when the charge came. A few had sought
refuge in the abandoned lairs of the Hunters and Watchers, where
they were systematically hunted down and slain. Others had decided
to fight back from where they squatted on the floor of the Common
lair, but they, too, had perished. The rest had chosen the lair’s
platform from which to defend themselves.

Standing on
his hindquarters in the centre of the platform among the half-eaten
corpses of the Rulers, Slasher rallied the latter defenders. After
the disappearance of Slayer during the last battle, Slasher had
claimed the throne. The whole of the lair recognised him as their
fiercest fighter. He was their undisputed King-rat now. He was
determined to maintain control of the underworld. He was determined
to lead his warriors to victory again.

Long Snout
towered over the melee. Slave-blood was dripping from his muzzle.
Keeping his eyes fixed on Slasher, he leapt up to the platform and
moved in for the kill. He recognised those signs of leadership and
determination in the new slave-King; they had sealed the little
Scavenger’s fate.

–
o –

–
Chapter Thirty-Six –

When the
creature sped past them, the blast of air caused by its passage was
so violent that it almost lifted them up and sent them careering
across the giant. But they clung desperately to the gravel beneath
them until it had gone by. Then they saw the creature coming to a
halt away in the distance. It looked much smaller over there. It
was still spitting; the bolts of fire shooting from it were
erupting in huge balls of light all around the giant. Now it was
growing bigger. It was making the giant shake again. Its whining
roar was becoming louder. It was rushing straight at them!

It wasn’t
Small Face who squealed out this time. It was one of the
youngsters, the son of Narrow Back and Timid One. His nerve having
gone completely, he sprang away from the group and leapt onto the
adjacent railway track in an attempt to get back to the walkway. In
his panic, he didn’t see the gap between the track and the walkway.
Having inherited his father’s skinny frame, as well as his nervous
disposition, the youngster’s small, thin body simply fell through
the narrow gap to plunge into black space. The splash made by the
body when it hit the water far below went unheard amidst the
combined din of the spouting creature on the island and the
whining, spitting monster inside the giant.

The rest of
the group held fast and braced themselves for the next blast from
the creature. The creature whizzed past them again. They held their
breath and hoped upon hope that it had gone from the giant this
time. Then they heard it returning behind them, and they braced
themselves once more. After it roared past them for a third time,
it stopped up ahead for a while, but only to prolong the fugitives’
torment by beginning yet another charge. Just as it did so, the
bursts of light in the sky above the island suddenly grew faster
and larger and brighter.

The fireworks
train had been the card up the sleeve of the organisers. They had
never been totally convinced that the display from Inchgarvie would
actually work. There had been the ferocious storm the day before,
of course, and the scare about the rats before that, but it was the
reliability of the electronic gadgetry that had worried them most.
They had needed a backup. So they had come up with the idea of
kitting out the old locomotive to fire rockets in all directions as
it paraded back and forth across the bridge. In the event, the
locomotive was being used to supplement, rather than to replace,
the island display. Judging by the delighted reaction from the
crowds on the esplanade and elsewhere, however, it was a resounding
success.

With the
cheers and claps of the crowds echoing around the estuary, the
locomotive completed its last run and headed south to exit the
bridge. As soon as it disappeared from view, there was a final and
particularly deafening burst of fireworks from the display on the
island. That was the trigger for the series of simultaneous events
that would constitute the climax of the night’s celebrations: the
button to inaugurate the floodlighting of the bridge was pressed; a
string of bonfires along both shores of the Forth were lit; and the
multitude of horns on the flotilla huddled in the lee of the bridge
sounded in one huge, discordant clamour.

Amidst much
oohing and aahing from the crowds, the bridge started to light up.
Bathed in an initial soft orange blush, she appeared ghostly at
first, but soon her whole structure was glowing with a pink-hued
brilliance. She looked magnificent, more radiant and more majestic
than ever, in her shining, new birthday dress.

When the
bonfires had burned down and the sound of the boat horns had
petered out, the flotilla began to disperse. The crowds lingered
for a little while longer, drinking in the sight of the floodlit
bridge and its shimmering mirror image in the inky water, before
they also embarked on the great exodus. The night was now bitterly
cold. Everyone wanted to return to the warmth of their homes as
quickly as possible. Very soon, quiet returned to the shores of the
Forth. The Big Day was over.

–
o –

–
Chapter Thirty-Seven –

It wasn’t just
the brightness of the lights inside the giant that they were trying
to get used to; it was the silence as well. Still crouched together
on the aisle between the two railway tracks, they were peering in
all directions, blinking furiously, waiting for the next explosion
to come crashing out of the sky or the next Two-Legs monster to
come thundering at them. But there were no sounds, no movements;
only the light. The place seemed vast and eerie now. The silence
itself was frightening.

They were
still shaking, still trembling from the trauma of their experiences
on the giant. Could it be? they wondered. Was it possible? Were
they really safe after all this time? Could they dare to hope? They
began to stir, moving away from each other, taking a few faltering
steps on the gravel surface, keeping their eyes open for new
dangers.

Like the
others, Twisted Foot was looking around him, staring at the army of
lights. The lights seemed to be everywhere – above him, below him,
to his left and right. So this is what Narrow Back had been so
excited about, he said to himself. ‘The giant is awake!’ he
remembered Narrow Back shouting. He remembered, too, the stir that
Narrow Back’s revelation had caused in the underworld. Well, he
thought, after everything that we’ve been through since leaving the
island, the glowing giant doesn’t appear to be much of a threat
after all.

The thought of
Narrow Back and his agonising death, and of Timid One and her
unfortunate youngster, both drowned, suddenly made Twisted Foot
wince. All gone, he shook his muzzle sadly. And Fat One as well. It
was such a waste, such a loss. He sincerely hoped that this ...
this venture that they had embarked on would prove to be worth
their loss. He shook his muzzle again, this time more forcibly. He
needed to rouse himself from this depression, to get on. It was
time to resume their journey. They were all cold and hungry and
thirsty; but, most of all, they were exhausted. The sooner they
left the giant and found land, the sooner they would be able to
rest.

He led the
group back across the railway track and up to the walkway. All of
them studiously leapt clear of the gap between the two, gathering
at the very point which they had reached when they were startled by
the explosions from the creature on the island. They set off
northwards along the walkway again, scurrying as quickly as they
could through the dazzling, cavernous belly of the giant.