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Authors: Brian Williams

Terminal (29 page)

BOOK: Terminal
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‘My turn,' he said to Woody, uncomfortable because the bushman made no effort to avert his eyes as he stripped off all his clothes. ‘Elliott, I'm coming in. No peeking!' he shouted,
and entered with his germ suit under his arm. He too went through the shower twice and, finally stood under the lights while Elliott faced in the opposite direction, arms crossed and humming impatiently.

When he was dressed, he joined her at the far end of the tunnel, and they stood side by side, ready to step into the shimmering mirror that lay directly outside the tent.

‘It's still there?' Will asked nervously.

Elliott unzipped a few inches of the door flaps to check. ‘Yes,' she replied.

‘And you're sure about this?' He picked up his Bergen and hooked his Sten over his shoulder, then looked rather undecided. ‘Tell me one last time – this is really going to zap us through to the surface? Like something out of
Star Trek
? How do you know we won't just burn up or something?'

She frowned at the mention of
Star Trek
, but answered simply, ‘It's going to work.'

‘Yeah, yeah, you can't tell me how, you just
know
it,' Will grumbled.

Without a further word, Elliott unzipped the door flaps, and they faced the glimmering portal together, their equipment and suits dripping with germicide.

‘Let's do it,' Will said quietly. He took her hand and squeezed it as they both left the tunnel, walking towards the portal. ‘Feels cold,' he said.

They hadn't even entered the square when a force took hold of them, wrenching them with such power they couldn't have resisted even if they'd wanted to.

For less than a beat, all they heard was the rush of air. Despite the suits they felt it on their skin, like a sudden blast of wind.

And they knew they were no longer in the inner world.

 

 

P
ART
T
HREE

Bishops Wood

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

T
hey fell several feet onto something hard. The jolt made them drop their Bergens and their weapons.

It was pitch black and bitterly cold.

Will immediately reached out for Elliott and found her on the ground beside him.

‘You okay?' he asked.

‘Yes,' Elliott replied, then pointed to her helmet. ‘Is it safe to take this off now?'

‘S'pose so. We're going to have to, sooner or later, because the air will run out. And if we've got the decontamination wrong, then …' he trailed off. He released the seal around his neck and removed the plastic helmet from his head. Elliott followed his example, and they both took their first breaths, drawing the freezing night air down into their lungs.

‘Brrrr,' Elliott exhaled, her teeth already beginning to chatter.

It hit them both right then just how unprepared they were for conditions like this after the tropical climate of the inner world. And it was exacerbated because not only were their thin plastic suits little protection against the cold, but they
were both still damp from the decontamination process.

‘We didn't bring any proper clothes with us,' Elliott realised.

‘We didn't think this through,' Will agreed.

Their voices sounded small and there was no echo. Wherever they'd arrived, they were definitely out in the open.

‘At least we're still alive! We made it!' Will declared, as it sank in that they had survived the journey through the shimmering portal.

Elliott was more subdued, as if she'd expected nothing less. ‘Yes, great, but where exactly are we?' Rising to her feet, she used her rifle scope to look around. ‘Trees? All I can see are trees,' she said. ‘And I feel really sick,' she added with a moan, sitting back down on the ground again as she clutched her stomach.

Will had opened up his Bergen and was rummaging through it, but stopped what he was doing as the nausea also gripped him. ‘Me too. I suddenly feel really awful,' he said. He lowered his head, then brought it up again quickly, at the same time burping at great volume. ‘Ah, that did the trick.' He turned to Elliott in the darkness. ‘You try it.'

‘What? Burp?'

‘Yes, go on. Must be a build-up of air, because of the change in pressure or something.'

‘Well … okay.' There was a pause as she inhaled and held her breath, then she let it out in the most almighty belch – far louder than Will's – which reverberated around the trees. ‘That
is
better,' she said.

‘Very ladylike,' Will chuckled, diving back into his Bergen to look for Drake's light-intensifying lens. It had been redundant in the inner world with its constant daylight, but he'd
still carried it with him everywhere he went through force of habit.

‘Haven't used this for a while. Hope it still works,' he said, fitting the strap around his head and then hinging the lens down over his eye. As he flicked the switch on the small box that dangled by a cord from the unit, all he could see was the usual orange snowstorm before the view settled down. ‘Yes, trees – I've got them,' he said, as he glanced around. ‘And is that a stream over there?' he asked, indicating where the nettles and undergrowth parted and something glistened in the small amount of moonlight penetrating the thick cloud cover.

But Elliott was busy peering through her scope in the opposite direction, surveying the short slope beside them as she tried to make out what lay at the top. ‘I wonder where we are?' she asked.

‘It certainly doesn't look like London. We must be in the country somewhere,' Will said. ‘And before we freeze to death, we need to get out of this,' he added, stamping his feet on the ground in an effort to keep himself warm.

It was then that Elliott spotted the frosted tarmac of a path running up the incline. ‘What about up there?' she suggested to Will.

Gathering their equipment together, they began up the path, but Will suddenly stopped. ‘Just a moment.' He returned to where they'd been, and had only been peering around the ground for a second or two before he stooped to pick something up. ‘I really hoped this would be here,' he said, holding up his father's compass.

But then he also noticed something else about the spot they'd come through. ‘Hey, will you look at that! We made a
fairy ring,' he laughed. Around him was a perfect circle, nearly six feet in diameter. Not only had the long grass been cut through by whatever force had transported him and Elliott there – the area right in the centre of the circle had also been scooped out to such an extent that the frozen soil was visible. ‘Do you think that's how all fairy rings are made?' he suggested less than seriously.

But Elliott was already at the top of the incline where she was crouching behind a low metal railing. She touched the top of her head in an
on me
hand signal, which immediately warned him to be on his guard. She'd found something. And as Will scrambled up the slope towards her, his Sten gun at the ready, she patted the air in another signal, indicating he could keep down.

They were by the side of a wide road that swept around a corner to their right. It followed a slight gradient down to their left, and on the other side of this section of road there were buildings.

‘So we're not in the countryside,' Will whispered, as they both took in what lay before them. ‘We
have
been brought to London after all,' he added.

‘Yes, I'd worked that out for myself,' she whispered back.

‘But those are
some
houses,' Will said. He knew from their size that he and Elliott had to be in one of the wealthier areas of the city.

Elliott craned her neck to the left to see what was further down the road. ‘No lights anywhere,' she whispered. She hadn't much experience of Topsoil cities, and added, ‘That's not usual, is it?'

Will didn't respond immediately, listening to the distant barking of a fox. ‘No, something's definitely wrong.' Almost
directly across from them was a side road lined with more large houses. ‘Let's take a look over there,' he suggested, then peered up at the sky. ‘I've no idea how late or early it is, but we don't want to be stuck out in the open when it gets light.'

‘Yep,' Elliott said. ‘So cover me.' She ran in a half crouch across to the corner of the road opposite, then kept watch as Will did the same. They tucked themselves in against a wall, glancing at the vehicles abandoned along the road, around which rubbish and even some articles of clothing were strewn.

Will's gaze fell on a sign. ‘Bishopswood Road?' he whispered, trying to think if he'd heard of it before.

‘Mean anything to you?' Elliott asked.

Will shook his head. ‘No, but from the postcode, this is north London, but not as far north as Highfield.'

‘Been a fire in that one,' Elliott said, pointing to the house opposite where heavy smoke shadows stained the white Georgian frontage.

‘What about the next house along – spot anything there?' Will asked, squinting as he tried to see it through his lens.

‘If we want somewhere safe to stay, how about the place right behind us?' Elliott suggested. ‘Nice high wall around it.'

Will took a moment to consider the house, noting the gates that seemed to be firmly shut. ‘Sure. Let's give it a closer look.'

Once over the wall they crossed the paved drive, checking each window for signs of life. Will tried the front door, but it was locked, so they crept around to the back, on the way passing a large conservatory.

They came to a back door with glass panels in the upper half, and positioned themselves flat against the wall on either side. Will tried the handle, but again it was firmly locked.

‘So … do we break the glass to get in?' he posed. ‘What about the noise?'

Elliott didn't answer right away, and they both listened to the fox continuing to bark in the distance, and the bitterly cold wind as it raked the bare branches of the trees in the garden.

‘I'm bloody freezing,' Will grumbled. ‘Typical, isn't it? I've been moaning about the sun and the heat for weeks, and now I get this.' He glanced up at the sky. ‘Complete darkness and brass-monkey weather.'

‘Come on – smash it,' Elliott making up her mind. ‘We can't stay out here.'

‘Breaking and entering – here I go again,' Will muttered. He swung the metal stock of his Sten at one of the panes of glass, grimacing as the pieces landed on the floor inside with a clatter. Reaching through the hole he released the catch on the interior of the door. ‘That's it. We're in.'

The hallway was panelled with dark wood, and hung with several chandeliers. Will and Elliott split up and worked their way methodically through the ground floor, then met up at the bottom of the stairs before doing the same with the bedrooms on the next floor. Will shook his head. ‘Talk about homes of the rich and famous. I've only seen places like this before on Mum's TV programmes,' he remarked.

They chose the largest of the bedrooms and began to search it for warm clothes. Will opened a door in the corner, only to find that there was a walk-in wardrobe with beautifully made cedarwood shelves stacked high with men's clothes. He called Elliott over and they helped themselves to whatever came to hand, donning jumpers and then another layer on top in an effort to keep warm.

For the remainder of the night they took turns keeping guard at the doorway, while the other slept.

Will had been right to get them under cover, as it wasn't long before dawn broke. Turning his lens off, he gently shook Elliott awake. She had sunk into the sumptuous king-size bed, pulling the duvet right over her head. They both tiptoed downstairs, the light from outside allowing them to take in how extravagant the interior was.

‘This is nothing like your house,' Elliott observed, standing on the polished marble tiles in the hallway as Will went into the large conservatory, which had a grand piano in it, surrounded by some rather thirsty-looking palm trees in large earthenware pots.

BOOK: Terminal
10.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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