The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (49 page)

Leo was talking over her. ‘It was us!’ he gasped. ‘Our Fear! We were opening up Falls all around us! We didn’t even see the denehole! If it wasn’t for him...’

‘I knew him,’ said Valen. ‘Did you?’

Ralf nodded. ‘Two Rivers Running,’ he frowned. ‘It’s like – like the name of a song in my head. I know I know it but I can’t remember the tune.’

Leaving the gaping denehole, they headed North searching for the chestnut tree, which they came across a few minutes later.

‘Would you look at that?
’ Valen breathed. ‘It’s massive.’

Leo placed a hand on the tree’s broad trunk. ‘And old,’ he said. ‘Really old.’

‘There’s another path!’ Ralf exclaimed.

‘West?’ Valen asked. Ralf nodded and managed a small
smile but his mind raced. The sun was high in the sky. It must be nearly half past one now and they were running out of time. ‘You are very near to what you seek!’ the Warrior had said. But what did he mean? Near to what? And what was it that he sought? Was he talking about Alfie? Or about the Natus on whom everything depended? Ralf laughed to himself. What he was really looking for right now was some clue as to where they should go next. A solution to the dreadful problem Ambrose had lumbered him with! A faint hope that Seth would be safe – Seth, who was risking his life to save others. Who was he kidding? Seth wasn’t risking himself. He was sacrificing himself. He wouldn’t get out of France alive and he knew it. Brave, clever, stupid Seth. Thinking of him made Ralf feel incredibly small and very aware that he had lost one of his friends already. He was not going to lose any more.

He shook himself and forced his feet onwards. The path was narrow, more of a track really and they had to weave round bushes, fight their way through undergrowth and their progress was slow. Just as the frustration built to a point at which Ralf thought he might burst, Cabal yipped in excitement and darted forward. Ralf and the others rushed after him barrelling through the last few bushes until they exploded from the undergrowth into a clearing. At its edge, under a gnarled apple tree sat Alfie. He saw them and grinned.

‘You lot took your time!’

‘Alfie!’ Valen exclaimed. ‘You’re alright!’

Alfie put his finger to his lips. ‘Voices down, okay?’ he whispered. ‘I don’t think they’ll hear us, it’s pretty deep down where they are, but it’s best to be sure, innit?’

‘They’re still here, then?’ Ralf asked. He had almost given up hope.

‘Oyler is,’ said Alfie. ‘And someone else. Not sure who. Gadd and two others left by another exit about ten minutes ago.’

‘But what have they been doing all this time?’ asked Leo.

Alfie gave a crooked smile. ‘I could ask you the same thing!’ he grinned. ‘They’ve been arguing mostly. Hard to tell. It’s really confusing down there.’

‘Down w
here, Alf?’ Ralf urged. ‘Show us, quickly!’

Alfie got up from the rock he’d been sitting on and beckoned them to follow. To the rear of the apple tree was an overgrown bank, studded with outcroppings of white rock. ‘Look!’ He pulled his
jumper down over his hand and used his protected arm to hold back a sprawling bramble. Behind it was a large opening in the bank. ‘Took me a while to find it but I did eventually, with a bit of help from a very friendly magpie.’ The others exchanged wondering glances.

‘What’s down there?

‘It’s like a blimmin’ maze. Echoes big time. Hard to get your bearings but there’s a whole warren of tunnels and they stretch all over. I’m pretty sure they run right under Old Hodge Farm and past the arch-olology site. Alfie pointed in the opposite direction from the Barrow. ‘Down that way is Tarzy Wood. I reckon there must be a passage leading from near the Zero Station somewhere to link up with the ones under here.’ He looked very pleased with himself. ‘So, I had a quick shufty, right? I hang about and listen. And there’s some arguing from down a tunnel. Deffo the Munton’s. Recognise their whiny voices any day.’

‘Get to the point Alfie!’ Valen urged. ‘We’re on a bit of a tight schedule here!’

‘I’m getting there,’ Alfie retorted. ‘So, this other guy shows up, yeah? But he musta come in a different way ‘cos he never come past me.’

Leo nodded. ‘What, from near the Zero Station?’

‘Nah,’ said Alfie excitedly shaking his head. ‘I was just coming to that part. There’s another exit. You gotta admire the bloke’s front!’ He pointed through the trees midway between the Barrow and the way they’d come. ‘About fifty yards that way there’s only a blimmin’ road! Gadd and two others came out and met a car there! I hacked it after them but they’d driven off by the time I got there. I never got chance to see who Gadd had with him but talk about brass neck! That road goes right past the barracks!’

‘But who
did
Gadd have with him?
Was
one of them Charles Hart?’ Leo asked, exasperated.

Alfie shrugged. ‘Couldn’t tell. Too far away.’

Ralf sighed and scratched his head, thinking.

‘This isn’t getting us anywhere!’ hissed Valen. ‘Someone’s still down there, right?’

‘Unless they went out the Tarzy Wood tunnel,’ Alfie replied, still scanning the tree line.

‘Then let’s get down there!’ Valen pressed.

Leo voiced his agreement. ‘If it
is
Hart we’ll rescue him,’ he urged vehemently. ‘If it’s not, whoever’s down there will know where he is!’

Ralf nodded. It was the only way. ‘Stick together, okay?’ he said. A second later he was pulling aside the bramble. Cabal disappeared into the hole. The Turnarounders, minus one, followed after. Alfie flicked on his torch.

Hunched over in the low tunnel they half ran, stooped shoulders aching, their footsteps sounding oddly muffled in the dark until they reached a fork. The right-hand passage sloped upwards and was lighter than the left, a pale shaft of light shone down from above to illuminate chalky walls.

‘That must be where the Captain fell,’ whispered Valen.

‘Which way, Cabal?’ Ralf asked. ‘Find the people!’

The huge dog put his nose to the floor and was soon padding down the darker, left-hand tunnel. A few yards down, it opened out, the ceiling rose above them. They could stand comfortably and move faster. They were running now, dragging in deep, painful gulps of muggy air. It was hot down here. And there was something about the tunnel, the damp walls, the earthy smell, something familiar...

Cabal stopped suddenly. The Turnarounders stumbled to a halt behind him, almost crashing in to one another. Voices! And there was light ahead. Not torch light. Something more powerful. A paraffin lamp? Ralf smoothed the rough fur of Cabal’s neck and dropping to a crouch he inched along the tunnel ahead. Valen followed closely. Alfie trained his torch back the way they’d come just in case.

Ralf paused to listen.

‘I don’t want to do it, see?’ said a weasely voice. ‘But I gots to, see?’ It was Oyler Munton.

‘I understand, Oyler,’ said another voice. ‘You’re not a killer by nature. Just caught between a rock an’ a hard place. A bit like me, eh?’

The man laughed, a sad sound that bounced off the walls of the tunnel. ‘Just do me a favour, will you?’ the man asked. Ralf frowned. He knew that voice! Who was it? Why couldn’t he think?

‘I’ll do what I can, o’ course I will,’ Oyler moaned. Was he crying? Again?

‘Take off the blindfold, there’s a good man. If I have to meet my end, I want to do it with my eyes open.’

Ralf nearly cried out as Valen’s hand groped for his arm. Their eyes met in the half
-light. ‘Meet his end’? What
was
this?

There were footsteps ahead. Scuffling.

‘That’s better. Thanks.’

‘Now turn around,’ Oyler pleaded. ‘I’d rather not look.’

‘I understand.’

‘I’m sorry, Gordon.’

In a flash, Ralf understood. The other voice belonged to Mr Kemp! He was alive!

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Behind The Black Door

The spark of joy Ralf felt knowing that the Gordon Kemp lived was abruptly quenched by the realisation that he might not be alive much longer.

‘CABAAAAL!’ Ralf roared the summons at the exact same moment he and Valen Shifted.

Then everything happened at once. Ralf and Valen arrived in a brightly lit cave to see a trembling Oyler Munton pointing a gun at the back of Gordon Kemp’s head. Kemp, on his knees, jerked round to face Munton and bought his tied hands up to knock the pistol aside the instant Cabal leapt. A savage streak of doggy fury flew at Oyler sinking teeth into the man’s wrist.

This, on its own, would probably have been enough to avert catastrophe, but neither Ralf nor Valen were taking any chances. They hit Oyler with Shuns of such force that his arm was torn from Cabal’s grip and he, literally, bounced off the cave wall. The gun thudded to the floor. So did Oyler.

Valen hurried over to him. ‘Out cold!’ she said, triumphantly.

Ralf, meanwhile, was sawing through the rope round Gordon Kemp’s wrists with his pocketknife.

‘What on earth are you kids doing here? How ever did you find me?’ the baker asked in wonder. ‘I thought I was a goner for sure!’

Ralf narrowed his eyes, looked up at Kemp’s earnest face and smiled. The man’s aura was bright as a summer bonfire. Ralf went back to his cutting.

‘Long story,’ he said, relieved that he’d made the right decision for once.  ‘Think you can walk?’

The ropes fell away and Kemp staggered to his feet, rubbing the circulation back into his hands. ‘I’ll have to,’ he resolved. ‘Gadd’s got Charles Hart! We’ve got to get to the Authorities quick smart.’

‘Here!’ Alfie called from a tunnel on the far side of the cave. ‘I think this must lead to the road.’

‘Do you think you
fellows can lift Oyler on to my back?’ Kemp asked. ‘Come on, hoist him up!’

‘We should just leave him here,’ said Valen as she watched Ralf and Leo manhandle Oyler’s limp form onto Gordon Kemp’s shoulders. ‘Spineless coward.’

Kemp grimaced. ‘I wouldn’t leave anyone down here alone. Your mind goes quickly in the dark and I don’t think he was all there to begin with,’ he said. ‘I’ve not been underground long but I’ve been hearing whispers and seeing the shadows move. I’ve never been more glad of a paraffin lamp in my life!’

He winced as they adjusted Oyler’s weight on his shoulders but swayed only slightly as he took his first few steps. Oyler dangled on his back like a broken marionette.

‘Besides, we need information from him. We’ve got to find out where they’ve taken Hart.’

‘So what happened, Mr Kemp?’ Leo asked. ‘Everyone in the village thinks you’re dead.’

‘What?’ Kemp looked horrified and his expression changed from disbelief to fury as Leo told him of the fire. ‘I never realised how bad things were with those two. Thought I had a pair of petty crooks on my hands but it turns out that there was someone else pulling the strings.’

‘I knew they weren’t smart enough to plan all this and then throw suspicion away from themselves by framing me,’ said Ralf. ‘Who’s the mastermind?’

‘I don’t know, but whoever it is, he’s dangerous,’ said Kemp, shaking his head in frustration ‘Very, very dangerous!’

He had to stoop and turn sideways to squeeze through the arch into the exit tunnel and Oyler’s lolling head got bumped a couple of times in the process. No one mentioned it.

‘I was on my way home, taking a breath of night air and thinking of my bed when I saw a light in Tarzy Wood,’ Kemp explained. ‘It was only a short flash but it was where it came from that bothered me. There’s – well, I’ve my own reasons for being concerned –’

‘The light was close to the Zero Station!’ Ralf exclaimed, as the pieces of the puzzle started fitting together. ‘You thought that someone had found it, didn’t you Mr Kemp?’

Kemp paused and adjusted his load. ‘I won’t ask how you know ‘bout that,’ he said. ‘But yes, I was worried about the Zero Station.’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, I hurried over there and sure enough, I caught the Muntons in the act. There’s another one o’ these tunnels leading from opposite the bunker. I thought it led to their black market stash. I had them cornered and they knew it but then someone grabbed me from behind. I struggled o’ course, but the strength of him! I’ve never felt anything like it. He had arms of steel and something went over my face –’

‘Chloroform, probably,’ said Valen. ‘They got me on the night of the party!’

Kemp nodded. ‘Well, before I knew it I was passing out. Afore I blacked out completely, though…I heard this voice...’ Even in the murk of the tunnel, Ralf saw Kemp shudder. The baker barked out a laugh that echoed uncomfortably round them. ‘A terrible voice he had. Terrible.’ He grunted and stopped to lean against wall. ‘I’m going to have to rest a minute’. He cleared his throat ‘I don’t know who their accomplice is but I wouldn’t want to meet him again without a cudgel, that’s for sure.

‘Anyway, when I came to, I was back in that cave, but I wasn’t alone. The Muntons had gone and there was no sign of that other fiend, but Charlie Hart was here. A shadow of his former self, though. Weak. Thin. Drugged to the eyeballs too. I couldn’t get a lot o’ sense out of him at first.’

Kemp made to stand straight again but wobbled with the weight of Oyler and slammed back into the tunnel wall

‘Drop him,’ said Val looking at Munton with contempt, ‘I think we should drag him for a while’

‘No Val, I’ll be alright in a sec,’ said Mr Kemp breathing deeply. ‘Anyway, them rotten beggars flagged down his car, he said. He stopped to help. Thought they were broken down. But they coshed him then locked him up in a cellar somewhere. Burrowes’ informant was bang on the money with that one…Right, up we get!’ Ralf and Leo helped him adjust Oyler’s weight on his shoulders and they set off again.

‘Charles couldn’t remember how long he was there but he remembers his water tasting strange one night and then the next he was here. I asked if it was ransom they wanted but no. It’s just like the papers said – a security issue. Hart had been working in America...’

‘But what for, Mr Kemp?’ Leo asked. ‘What was he working on?’

‘A job for the Prime Minister.’

‘They’re friends aren’t they?’ Valen asked. ‘The paper said he saved him in the last war or something.’

‘That’s right,’ Kemp said. ‘But what the papers didn’t say was how alike they look.’

‘Him and Churchill?’ Ralf remembered the photograph back at Springfield. He’d thought the young man with Churchill was his brother but it must have been Hart!

Kemp grunted his agreement. ‘Well, so he does,’ he said, pausing again to get his breath. ‘Did. Charlie’s lost a good two stone, now though, poor devil. Anyways, it turns out there was some hare-brained scheme up at the Ministry for him to act as the Prime Minister’s double. Churchill would go off secretly to have meetings with Stalin and Roosevelt and suchlike and Hart would impersonate him back here doing public engagements and the Nazis would be none the wiser that the real Churchill was elsewhere.’

‘Wow,’ said Valen. ‘Could he have pulled it off?’

‘Absolutely,’ Kemp nodded. ‘Damn fine actor, if you’ll excuse the French.’

‘And that’s why he was kidnapped?’ Ralf asked, puzzled.

‘In a manner o’ speaking. Charles heard stuff when he was locked up early on. They’re going to hand him over to the Germans.’

‘Serious?’ asked Alfie. ‘How come?’

‘Well,’ said Kemp.  ‘Me and Charlie have thought long an’ hard on that one. We think the plan is to invade, kill the real Churchill and set Hart up in his place. By that time, of course, Charlie’s sure he will have been be well and truly brainwashed. They’ve been pumpin’ him full o’ pentothal and I don’t know what other drugs. Poor beggar’s convinced it won’t be long afore he’s spouting all sorts of Fascist filth for them Nazis.’

‘I don’t understand. What for?’

‘Hart, drugged and helpless, set up as Prime Minister. He gives the order to surrender. He allows the Nazis to cart off anyone in opposition and removes the threat of any resistance. Imagine what that would do to the morale of the nation, eh?’

‘People would give up!’ Ralf exclaimed.

‘Exactly, said Kemp. ‘Then Edward VII and that woman Simpson come back as a puppet monarchy and Hart, who we all think is Churchill, rules from Westminster – a Nazi stooge. Americans would turn their backs and that’s it. War’s over and Hitler’s running the whole o’ Europe!’

‘But that’s terrible!’ Valen cried. ‘We can’t allow it.’

Kemp reached out a hand to pat Valen on the shoulder. ‘You’re dead right, Val. We can’t. Which is why we have to get this good-for-nothing bag o’ bones to Burrowes
, quick smart.’

The next few minutes passed in a silence broken only by Kemp’s heavy breathing and the sound of their echoing feet. But as they walked something changed. Their footsteps slowed without them realising it and they found themselves hugging the right hand wall of the tunnel, their shoulders brushing the damp wall. The air grew thicker, heavier somehow, and their breaths came in short gasps. They struggled on, aware of the change only in the deepest recesses of their minds. Ralf had taken to holding onto the chalky outcroppings of the passage and was almost pulling himself along because his feet didn’t appear to be working properly. Ahead, he saw Alfie stagger and Gordon Kemp stop to lean against the wall. Valen was shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. Her eyes in the torchlight looked confused and heavy. Ralf dragged himself onward until he came level with Leo at the front of the group. His friend stood stock still in the tunnel, tense, listening.

‘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.