The Tunnels of Ferdinand Read online

  The boy seemed to realise how sharply he had spoken. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t like being out here in the open, that’s all. What did you do, anyway, to end up a Non-Cop B?’

  Berrin explained about the little girl in the exercise yard.

  ‘Why did you interfere?’

  ‘It didn’t seem right. Someone had to do something.’

  ‘A good answer,’ he said with a grim smile. ‘You’ll make a good rat.’

  Rat! Again there was no chance to ask what he meant, but this time it was because the boy’s hand was slapped tightly over his mouth.

  Berrin didn’t struggle. He trusted this boy enough now to know something was wrong. Suddenly the hand was gone from his mouth and he was being tugged along as fast as his feet could manage.

  When they stopped, the boy whispered, ‘Gadges. Don’t make a sound.’ He wiped his hand across the front of Berrin’s shirt and held the hand to his nose. ‘At least you don’t have much scent. Most of mine is gone too. With any luck they won’t smell us, but from now on we’ll have to be extra careful.’

  They waited what seemed like a long time and even then moved on cautiously. Another half an hour or so of sneaking from one building to another brought them to a narrow bridge across a stream. Berrin started across it, but the boy dragged him back and instead pushed him down the muddy bank until they were out of sight.

  Moments later the sound of voices disturbed the night’s silence. Heavy feet padded to the centre of the bridge as the two boys listened from below.

  ‘Do you smell anything?’ a deep voice asked.

  ‘No, but I can feel a presence all the same.’

  This was greeted by an odd snort, though not one Berrin had ever heard from a human being. ‘You and your feelings. It’s your nose that will find any strays, corporal,’ the first voice laughed. As it tailed off, the laugh rolled in the throat and became a strange growl.

  Berrin looked down at the shadow cast by the moonlight onto the still waters of the stream. It wasn’t clear enough to see the full outlines of the speakers above him, but he was certain of one thing. They were walking on four legs, not two.

  At last the stir of gravel and the shifting of those shadows told Berrin the strange creatures had moved on. ‘Where to now?’ he whispered.

  ‘Nowhere,’ came the reply. ‘We’re here.’

  Berrin watched as the boy swept aside a curtain of vines. He found himself looking into a dark opening, not some cave dug by hand into the creek bank, but a perfect circle. He touched the rim and found it was hard as rock.

  ‘Concrete,’ the boy told him. ‘This pipe goes in underground.’ And without further explanation, he leaned inside the opening and made a clicking noise with his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

  ‘That should do it. You just have to wait here now until the rats come for you.’

  ‘Rats!’ There it was again, the second time he had talked about rats. Urgh. Berrin shuddered to show his disgust.

  ‘Not that kind of rat. You’ll see.’ The boy started to climb away from the opening.

  ‘Aren’t you coming in here too?’ Berrin asked.

  ‘No, I can’t. I told you. I’ve got to escape from the city … if I can,’ he added nervously. ‘You’ll know why I have to go soon enough.’

  ‘But you brought me here.’

  ‘Yes, as my replacement. Now I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Won’t you even tell me your name?’

  The boy thought about it. ‘Well, you’re here now, I suppose. All right. When they come for you, tell them Wendell brought you here.’

  Then he was gone. This boy, Wendell, had saved Berrin’s life, but Berrin knew he couldn’t call out his thanks into the silence. That would only bring those worrying creatures back to look for him, just when he was safe at last. At least, he hoped he was safe.

  He turned back towards the darkened opening of the concrete pipe. What was that? He swallowed hard. He had heard a noise, a soft whirring, and it was steadily growing louder.

  THREE

  Dodgem

  THE WHIRRING SOUND CONTINUED towards him. What if it was all a trick and Wendell had brought him here to be devoured by different creatures? Once more, Berrin found himself afraid of what he couldn’t see. So much darkness. Could he ever get used to it?

  With his hands, he began to explore the cold circle of concrete around him. He could just touch the top if he stretched onto his toes and strained with his arms. At least he had a little room to move if it came to the worst.

  The whirring stopped. Berrin still couldn’t see anything but his ears worked perfectly well. The crunch of a foot (or maybe it was a paw) on loose gravel told him that something was coming closer.

  He couldn’t bear it any longer. ‘Hello, who’s there?’ he called in a hoarse whisper.

  Whatever it was had crept closer than he realised. Before he could react, he was dragged back into the tunnel and a dirty hand was clamped over his mouth. He struggled and tried to fight off the hands that had hold of him until a voice hissed sharply in his ear, ‘Don’t make a sound or I’ll cut your throat right now.’

  Berrin remembered Wendell’s deadly sword and fell still. The dragging stopped immediately and he was released.

  ‘Stay here. Don’t move, don’t speak.’

  Berrin did as he was told, and when the owner of this voice saw that he could be trusted, he moved back to the end of the tunnel himself. At last Berrin could see who had come for him. Another human figure, another boy like himself, was silhouetted in the circle of faint moonlight that came from the tunnel’s mouth.

  The boy waited a full minute, then seemed satisfied. ‘Who brought you here?’ he asked, coming away from the opening.

  ‘Someone called Wendell. He saved me from a Crocodilian.’

  ‘You were lucky, then. Wendell should have been gone from the city hours ago.’

  ‘He said something about a replacement,’ Berrin explained.

  ‘Well, you’ll do well if you can replace Wendell. What’s your name?’

  Berrin told him.

  ‘I’m Quinn. Come on, we’d better get moving.’

  Berrin felt as though he had been either running or walking or stumbling forward all night. He didn’t fancy another long journey so soon.

  He didn’t need to worry, though, he quickly found out. Quinn took him by the hand and set off into the pitch blackness without the least concern for what they might bump into. After about twenty paces, he stopped and pressed Berrin’s hand onto a curved tube of some kind. It was cold, like the concrete, but definitely not part of the pipe that surrounded them.

  ‘Sit down.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hold on to this bar and feel below it with your hands and feet. You’ll find a seat.’

  When Berrin hesitated, Quinn switched on a light in the centre of the helmet he was wearing. He turned it off again almost immediately, but this was enough for Berrin to understand what he had to do. Soon he was sitting in a tight but surprisingly comfortable seat. It was sloped to make him lean backwards. To make room for his feet, he had to raise his knees almost level with his chest.

  Moments later, he felt the sway and jolt as Quinn climbed into a similar seat in front of him. ‘Are you ready?’ Quinn called.

  Ready for what? Berrin gave a tentative nod and then remembered that this was rather useless in the darkness. ‘Okay,’ he answered softly.

  The word had barely left his lips when they shot forward and Berrin was thrown violently backwards into the moulded shape of his seat. To his amazement, he could now see in front of him too. A light had come on ahead of Quinn, whom he could now make out clearly — the back of him, at least.

  He was so like Wendell, with the same thin arms and neck and that unkempt hair. He had a sword too, and like Wendell’s, it was held in a sheath buckled to his back. It was the skin that surprised Berrin most, though. Quinn was unnaturally pale, that slim neck and his bony hands a chilling white that didn’t look at all
healthy.

  What have I discovered here? Berrin worried for a moment. Deep underground, a being who lives in darkness. Was he truly human, or was he an unhappy imitation like the Dfx?

  Berrin soon put aside such misgivings. The machine was moving so fast now that a wind whipped strands of hair across his forehead. He had never felt such a wind before, but he found himself enjoying the experience.

  He could see the machine ran on small wheels. In front of him, Quinn had hold of a different kind of wheel, much larger and not for riding on. He was using this one to steer the machine along the tunnel as the light picked out the way ahead.

  ‘What is this thing?’ he called out to Quinn.

  ‘A Dodgem,’ came the reply.

  ‘It’s fantastic,’ said Berrin, using a word that rarely passed his lips. ‘How can it go so fast?’

  Perhaps Quinn didn’t hear these words properly and thought he had asked, ‘How fast can it go?’ Then again, maybe he just pretended this was what Berrin had asked.

  Whatever the case, Berrin suddenly found the Dodgem travelling even faster. The tunnel turned sharply to the left, and instead of slowing down, Quinn steered them up onto the wall.

  When the tunnel straightened out again, Quinn took this as an invitation to go still faster. ‘I’ll show you something. Hold on to your seat,’ Quinn called to his passenger.

  Berrin had only just taken a grip when the Dodgem scooted halfway up the pipe on the right-hand side. Then, with a final surge of speed, Quinn took them down again and immediately began to mount the opposite wall. But they didn’t stop halfway like before. They kept going.

  Berrin let out a worried ‘Wow!’, but by this time he was upside down, just for an instant, before they started down the other side.

  The Dodgem shot down to the floor of the tunnel again, but it was skidding sideways a little now and Quinn couldn’t control it. They broadsided part of the way up the other side again, but they had lost too much speed now and over they went. For the second time in a matter of moments Berrin found himself upside down, but this time sparks flew around his head until, with a terrible scraping sound, they came to a halt.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Quinn croaked as he freed himself from the upturned Dodgem.

  ‘I think so. What about you?’

  ‘A few scratches. Not as bad as last time.’

  Last time! thought Berrin in amazement.

  The light had gone out when they crashed, but by feeling with his hands Quinn managed to turn it on again. It let them take a closer look now that they were both free. ‘Here, give me a hand to get it the right way up.’

  Quinn might be mostly skin and bone, Berrin thought, but he’s strong. Both boys grunted with the effort but together they tipped the Dodgem back onto its wheels.

  ‘Better check it for damage, I suppose,’ said Quinn, as though this were all a bit of a bother. ‘The light is a bit loose. A few more scratches. Pretty lucky really,’ he commented calmly.

  Berrin was a curious boy at the best of times. ‘How does it work?’ he asked.

  ‘The power comes from these things,’ came the answer, as Quinn pointed to two small boxes behind Berrin’s seat. ‘They’re called batteries. Look at this,’ he continued, pointing to the base of the vehicle. ‘See how the bottom is curved upwards all around? That’s so we can travel across water. There’s a propeller hidden at the back too.’

  ‘Water! It looks pretty dry in here to me,’ Berrin remarked.

  ‘Yeah, for now maybe, but all these tunnels weren’t put here for nothing. They’re storm-water pipes. When it rains on the surface, guess where the water ends up.’

  Berrin examined every inch of the fabulous machine. ‘Where did you get it from?’

  ‘We made it. Well, not me, actually. The Rats before me. Long time ago. We’ve got three of them. All the parts were stolen from up on the surface, from a place called an Amusement Park.’

  ‘What’s an Amusement Park?’

  ‘I don’t know either, but if it’s got more things like this I’d sure like to find out.’

  Berrin couldn’t agree more. He liked Quinn already, for his matter-of-fact ways and his recklessness, and especially for the exhilaration of their ride across the top of the tunnel, even if they had finished upside down in a shower of sparks.

  He was still full of questions. ‘Can you go everywhere in these pipes?’

  ‘Yes and no. It’s all a question of diameter.’

  Berrin didn’t understand what the word meant, but like so much else, he figured he’d soon find out. ‘Do they go outside the city?’

  ‘No, not that far. Otherwise Wendell would have gone that way instead of travelling on the surface.’

  ‘He said he had to leave. But if it’s so dangerous … ?’

  ‘He didn’t measure down any more,’ Quinn replied before Berrin had finished his question. ‘It’s the rule. Don’t worry, you’re a long way off from that yet, by the look of you. Come on, I think this Dodgem will still work, and we’ve got a way to go yet.’

  FOUR

  The Rats

  WITH QUINN IN THE front seat and Berrin in the back, they started off again. ‘Seems to be going all right,’ said the driver. He didn’t crank up the pace to quite the same breakneck speed as before, but it wasn’t because he had lost his nerve. ‘There’s a 135 coming up,’ he called, as he began to slow down just a little.

  ‘What’s a 135?’

  ‘Smaller pipe. This one we’re in now is the largest size, a 170. That means it’s 170 centimetres across.’ In the eerie beam of light from the Dodgem, Berrin could see that the pipe was about to branch, but this time the openings were clearly not as big. Quinn aimed carefully and slotted them into the right-hand tunnel. No room for acrobatics in this pipe.

  ‘How narrow do the pipes get?’ asked Berrin.

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ Quinn answered with a laugh. He slowed almost to a walking pace then turned them sharply into an even smaller tunnel. ‘This is an 80.’

  Berrin could see now that the Dodgem had been built especially to fit neatly into the space allowed. ‘What happens if the pipes get even narrower?’ he shouted.

  ‘Then we crawl.’

  Not tonight, though. The pipe led into a large chamber with straight concrete walls, and here Quinn stopped the Dodgem. They had arrived.

  When Quinn turned off the Dodgem light, they weren’t plunged into darkness. On the right, another pipe, about a metre across, branched off from the chamber, and through it spilled a strong yellow light. There were voices too, and then yet another pinched and deathly white face. Despite the helmet, which was identical to Quinn’s, it was clear that this one belonged to a girl.

  ‘Quinn,’ she said sourly, ‘who let you loose with a Dodgem?’

  She stepped into the chamber, where Berrin could see her more clearly. Taller than him, definitely older. She didn’t wear a shirt but a kind of tunic with the sleeves cut away at the shoulder. Her hair was a matted mess of knots and tangles but beneath the dirt that hair was a golden blonde. All he could see of the face was a scowl.

  She had already spotted the damage. ‘I might have known. What have you been up to?’

  ‘Collecting a new recruit. See?’ Quinn nodded towards Berrin, who tried his best to smile.

  Somehow he didn’t think the girl cared whether he smiled or not. She was more interested in the Dodgem.

  ‘Look what you’ve done to it! The light’s about to fall off and you’ve bent the flotation shell!’

  Quinn took a closer look as though he’d never seen these dents before. While he was pretending, two more children, a boy and a girl, came out from the opening to see what was going on.

  ‘You were showing off again, Quinn,’ said the blonde girl crossly.

  ‘Me! No, of course not.’

  ‘Liar.’ She turned to Berrin. ‘You!’ she said gruffly. ‘He was showing off, wasn’t he? What did he do? I bet he demonstrated his famous upside-down trick.’

&
nbsp; Berrin stared at her uncomfortably, then flicked his eyes towards Quinn, who looked as though a Crocodilian were about to bite him in two. ‘No,’ he said firmly, hoping his act proved convincing. ‘We hit a pile of stones in the tunnel.’

  Quinn immediately looked relieved, but the rest of the listeners settled into an accusing silence as they stared at him.

  ‘Well, I’m pretty sure you’re lying, but at least you’re loyal,’ said the girl, who permitted herself a smile at last. ‘But listen, if you want to show your loyalty to anyone around here, show it to me. My name’s Dorian. I’m the leader of these Rats.’

  She turned to the others and introduced them. The boy was named Ruben. The girl was Vindy. ‘You know Quinn of course, the worst Dodgem driver in history.’

  Her audience laughed and Berrin relaxed a little. He could see that he would have more friends than just Quinn down here in this strange world.

  ‘How did you end up in the pipes?’ Dorian asked.

  Berrin explained about the Crocodilian and how Wendell had brought him to the mouth of the tunnel.

  ‘You’d better come with me. You’re not the only new recruit tonight.’

  Dorian led the way on hands and knees into the metre-wide passage, which became brighter the further they went. Ruben and Vindy followed, then Quinn and finally Berrin. Soon they emerged into another straight-sided chamber, similar to the one where Quinn had left the Dodgem. However, this one had an electric light bulb hanging from a cord above their heads.

  A handful of children were clustered in the middle of the chamber, all dressed the same as the other four. No-one turned to greet Berrin. All eyes were on the other recruit, a girl.

  When Berrin saw her, he gasped. She was covered in blood from head to toe.

  ‘Now then,’ Dorian said to the girl, in a gentler tone than she had used so far. ‘What was your name again?’

  ‘Olanda,’ came the reply.

  ‘Are you hurt, Olanda?’

  The girl shook her head.

  Berrin guessed she was about his age. She had finely braided hair that fell straight from a part in the middle of her head. Her eyes formed delicate almond shapes on either side of her nose, but with so much blood caked on her skin and clothing she seemed anything but delicate.