Under ordshaw, p.27
Under Ordshaw, page 27
Beyond the door, the sound of the monster’s approach continued, the tunnel creaking under its weight. Behind it, the high-pitched trill and the clicking resumed.
Holly had fallen by the side, sat on the floor staring back at the door with eyes wide in alarm. Grace ran further into the tunnel, hand over her mouth to hold in more screams, as Pax stood dumbly, turning on the spot. The new tunnel descended a few steps into another empty passage, narrow and square this time, lit by smaller and less frequent lights.
The door shook behind them, the beast trying to move it. The hinges shifted, coughing mortar. Pax helped Holly to her feet. “The door won’t hold. We need to keep moving.”
“What was that?” Holly asked. “What was it, what was it?”
Pax didn’t answer. It didn’t warrant a name, and a witty response was not forthcoming.
18
Letty had flown ahead, moving as quickly as the artificial wing would carry her. As the central apartments and offices fell away below her, giving way to increasingly spread-out suburban houses, Barton’s car trailed behind her. He was driving like a maniac, weaving between cars, swerving around oncoming traffic and running red lights, and she was put-putting through the air like a bloody mechanised blimp. Pathetic.
She was barely ahead of him when she reached his street and saw the mess Barton’s home was in. The entrance was caked in soil and broken pottery, glass scattered across the path. Letty searched for signs of life and spotted the manhole cover askew in the middle of the road. Had this arsehole moved his family near one of the Sunken City entrances? She torpedoed down. As she reached the road, car brakes screeched nearby, Barton turning the last corner to get there. Daylight was fading, and his headlights bounced erratically over the street. Letty checked her surroundings: no sign of her fellow Fae.
“Where are you fuckers?” Letty shouted, but the sound of Barton’s engine muted her efforts. His car skidded towards her, smoke erupting from under the tires. Barton jumped out, turning towards the devastation of his house, and Letty sprang into the air. “Take cover, you oaf!”
He ducked, dipping behind the car door.
Nothing happened.
Letty flew onto the tip of the door, searching the street. It was empty, the other humans quiet in their homes, a few lights on but no one looking. Barton watched her cautiously.
“Where are they?” he said. He stood away from the car, spotting the manhole cover. A man appeared in an upstairs window opposite them, but when Barton looked his way he ducked back inside. Barton was flicking glances between his home and the manhole cover, torn between them. Letty’s eyes were drawn more to the Sunken City entrance.
“That’s what I think it is, right?” she asked.
He grunted an affirmative. Nothing good was coming from this, but the writing was on the wall.
“They’re not here,” Letty said.
Barton thumped over to the manhole and grabbed the cover with both hands. He gave it one short tug and sent it clanging onto the road. Letty saw the nosey neighbour had re-emerged to watch. Still no one else showing an interest.
Another engine approached, making Barton look up. His car was blocking the road, door open. Letty watched him carefully as he climbed into the hole, no hesitation there. He said, “Guess we part ways here. Do me a favour and piss off.”
Letty didn’t reply, turning from him to the other car. As Barton dropped out of view, a light flashed on her eyes, from the side, and she followed the glint to a muddle of tree branches. It flashed again, a red light, scanning across her eyes. A signal.
“Oh shit,” she said. “Barton! It’s a trap, don’t –”
Too late.
With a blast and a thick puff of brick and mortar, the manhole collapsed. The road fell into the entrance, like a sinkhole, fissures spreading across the tarmac as the street shook. It had come down directly on top of Barton. He was gone beneath it, no sound as the dust settled. The approaching car skidded to a halt. The man in the house flapped his frightened hands and was joined at the window by an equally shocked woman.
“You fucking idiots!” Letty roared, buzzing towards the tree. She sped through the leaves, to where Fresko was drawing his rifle back up against his shoulder. As she got closer, his satisfied expression contorted to surprise, reading her anger. He stood. “It is you. We thought –”
She didn’t let him finish, slamming into him. Fists balling over his shirt, she lifted him up off the branch, through the air, and drove him into the next branch up. She pinned him there with her full weight, wing flapping and artificial engine whirring, forearm shoved into his throat. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
Fresko’s face flushed red, then blue, blood restricted. He struggled, but the initial impact had knocked him weak.
“You fucking idiot!” Letty shook him. “You fucking moron!”
She turned and shoved him back down. He landed on another branch, a foot below, falling too quickly to catch himself. Winded, he tried to push himself up. Letty dropped down next to him, pointing at the road. “You know what you’ve done? Do you?”
“Val,” Fresko wheezed, struggling to recover his breath. “Val’s orders.”
“Fuck Val!” Letty shouted. “We need him!”
Fresko rose onto his hands and knees. He stopped there to glare up at her without apology. Letty’s arms shook with tension, ready to hit him again. She shot another glance to the road, the cloud around the hole dispersing to reveal the shattered mess the tunnel had left. The other car driver was approaching it. A house door opened nearby.
“Pax,” Letty said. She spun back to Fresko. “Where’s Pax? What did you do with her?”
“The girl?” Fresko said, sitting back onto his haunches. “The Ministry one?”
“Yes, the fucking girl!” Letty launched at him again, one fist raised as the other closed on his tie. He scrambled back, gagging, as she tightened the tie around his neck. “What did you do?”
“She must be dead!” Fresko flapped his hands weakly, failing to break free as Letty sat on top of him, pulling even tighter. Letty shoved him down, pressing his face into the branch.
“Must be? You don’t know?”
“She went down there, didn’t come back!” Fresko said. “We left them to it!”
Letty let go, turning to face the road. The driver was waving at the people across the road, his back to the tree. He was calming them down.
“How long ago?” she asked.
Fresko coughed, nursing his neck. “I don’t know. Half an hour.”
“Because Val told you to.”
“Because I thought she killed you!” Fresko replied forcibly. “I heard her say it!”
Letty shot him a vicious look. “Where’s Mix?”
“Gone to the nearest entrances,” Fresko said. “To make sure they’re not getting back out.”
“You bloody idiots,” Letty said. “I was gone for two days. Two days and you screw the whole thing up.”
“...no, that’s fine.” The car driver’s voice got louder as he went to the manhole cover. Taking charge of the situation. “You stay inside, there could be fumes.”
Letty paused, pricking up her ears.
“Val said this was it,” Fresko said. “We’ve got the weed. There’s a crew going to the boy’s hideout to collect the Dispenser. Barton, his family, they just needed to disappear. We’re back in, Letty. We can put all this behind us.”
“Val can burn,” Letty told him quietly, her mind tracking away from the Fae situation towards what was happening below. The guy in the suit had stopped by the caved-in tunnel with his hands on his hips, but he wasn’t surveying the damage. He was looking up towards the sky. “You sent Pax down there. You utter prick.”
“Aren’t you listening to me? We’re back in. This ends it – we’re done with the Dispenser.”
“No.” Letty shook her head. “I’m not done. She understood.”
“That fucking human?” Fresko snapped, and she sparked into action again, kicking down at him. She caught him unawares, boot cracking into his chin, but he’d regained enough energy to react. He rolled aside, one hand to his face and the other whipping to his back, where he had a pistol holstered. He ended on his back with the gun aimed at Letty as she stood over him, aiming her pistol right back at him. “I won’t let you screw us on this,” he said.
“You did this, not me,” Letty snarled. With her eyes locked on his, she raised her voice to shout sideways, “We’re up here!”
Fresko’s eyes widened, and he shot a look to the side, to the man in the road. He lost his focus in surprise, the man in the suit looking up at them, and Letty quickly jumped aside, out of the firing line and up next to him. With Fresko’s pistol still aimed forward, hers was at his neck. She growled, “All right, drop it.”
“Pax’s friends, I take it?” Casaria called up from the road.
“Something like that,” Letty replied, staring Fresko in the eye. He was shaking his head, appalled. She said, “We’re gonna make this right. And that starts with getting Pax back.”
19
“Mum,” Grace bleated. She hadn’t stopped making little noises of suffering since the fairies’ assault, and Holly and Pax had started to simply accept them. They must have travelled a mile through the featureless tunnels, through a handful of doors and around a number of turns that betrayed no logic. For the most part, they walked in silence, to conserve energy and avoid alerting any more lurking creatures, and though Grace had whimpered Pax was impressed at her attempts to keep quiet. Now that the horrible clicking had faded behind them, and the high-pitched trill hadn’t sounded for a while, the teenager seemed ready to speak louder. “Mum. Mum?”
“What is it, dear?” Holly replied wearily. Fatigue had calmed her: she sounded as though she was busy reading a newspaper, not fleeing from hellish monsters. “Can it wait?”
“Mum, no.” Grace came to a halt. Pax stopped and turned back. “My feet. I can’t go on.”
Pax frowned at Grace’s dirt-encrusted feet, not having noticed before this moment that the girl had made the whole terrifying journey barefoot. She had never had a chance to put her shoes on when they raced out. Her soles were red around the edges, swollen and maybe bleeding. Holly stared without an answer. She looked to Pax for guidance.
“Here.” Pax started undoing her laces. “Take my boots.”
“They won’t fit,” Grace said.
“You can try,” Pax said, but Grace was firm. “No, I can see. You’ve got tiny feet, and mine look like balloons. Can we just rest? Can we stop and rest, please? I’ll be okay.”
“Dear.” Holly’s lip trembled. She swung towards her and held her in a loving hug. Pax saw her eyes welling with emotion. “My brave little girl. My poor little thing, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Grace replied, but her voice caught with emotion too. “I should’ve told you where I was going. I should’ve stayed home. I’m so sorry I went to that park, Mum!”
“No no no.” Holly rubbed her soothingly. “This isn’t your fault.”
Pax stared at them silently. She tried to steel herself. It was like watching a board pair against your flush, with all your money in the pot. You didn’t give in to emotion, no matter how unfair or irrational or dangerous the world became. You couldn’t betray signs of weakness. Crying could come later. She looked away, the mother and daughter hug shifting up a notch as they both started crying.
“Are we going to die, Mum?” Grace asked.
“No, of course not, it’s okay,” Holly said, but clearly didn’t believe it herself.
“I think there’s some steps ahead,” Pax said. “We can sit down.”
Her sober voice cut through their emotions, tearing their attention away from each other. There was a little shame in Holly’s face. She nodded and guided Grace onward, towards the steps. Back the way they had come, something clicked, a sound like a bird pecking wood. Pax tried to ignore it, sure it was far worse than any bird.
The steps led up to a small enclosure. The trio climbed into an unlit room, only a few metres square, a secure hideaway. Grace shuffled into a shadowy corner and sat down. Pax joined her. Taking the load off, she realised now how depleted she was. There was barely any sensation left in her legs and her chest was tight with pain. The moment she slumped against the wall she wondered if it would even be possible to stand again.
“Why aren’t there any exits?” Grace asked, with a child’s curiosity.
“There are,” Pax told her. “We just haven’t found them yet.”
“What else is down here?” Holly asked.
“A lot,” Pax said. “But as long as we see them coming, we’ll be okay.” Even as she said it a voice in her head disagreed; if they saw a sickle coming, they wouldn’t be able to outrun it.
“You’re tired,” Holly noted. Pax frowned. She’d done nothing to betray it, she thought. “And your leg’s hurt. It looks safe here, you can rest. I can go on, I can find a way out.”
“No.” Pax shook her head. “We can’t split up.”
“You can’t keep going, either of you. I can cover more ground alone.”
Grace wasn’t arguing, too worn down to talk. Her bright eyes stared hopefully at her mother. Pax hardly had the energy, either. She said, “You’ll get lost.” Holly had no answer, so Pax took out one of her lockpicks and scraped it against the wall. It was hard enough to leave a scratch. She held it up. “Take this. Mark your way.”
Holly nodded. She hesitated in the entrance to the room and then jumped on Grace with a hug. “I love you. Don’t forget that.”
All Grace could muster in response was “Mum”, and with that Holly ducked out of the room. Pax shifted closer to Grace and put an arm around her, awkwardly stiff. What the hell did she know about comforting people. She said, “She’ll be fine. We’re the ones in trouble, waiting here.”
As she heard her own words, she knew it was both unhelpful and true.
She rested back against the wall and allowed herself a moment to reflect on how monumentally she had screwed up. In the space of a few days she had discovered terrible things about this terrible place no one was supposed to know existed, and rather than escape it all, or so much as lend a kidnapped young man a hand, she had got herself and an innocent mother and daughter trapped there, facing imminent demise at the hands, or claws or teeth, of the most ungodly things imaginable.
This, she told herself, was why she did what she did. Connecting with other people led to trouble. Arguments at a wedding, accusations of shoplifting, monsters in a tunnel – it was the same old story. You get involved, you suffer.
Holly’s footsteps faded into the distance, leaving quiet in their little room. The sounds of the myriad creatures did not seem to be any closer, though they occasionally emitted unsettling chirps or groans from some unknown distance away. Grace had calmed down, at last, in her exhaustion, and snuggled up against Pax like a puppy searching for comfort. Pax held her stiffly, unsure what to do. She gave Grace a little pat on the head, then rested her hand on Grace’s shoulder and sat uncomfortably still.
Pax and Grace sat listening to the drips and scratches, hoping for Holly to rush back with good news at any moment. Holly did not return, though. The minutes had stretched ever longer between the sounds of the Sunken City. Pax considered the worst. What if Holly had run into something? What if she couldn’t find her way back? What else could they do? They couldn’t move, in case Holly was trying to find them. And what about Barton? Had he made it home yet?
What did it matter. The fairies would not let them out, however lucky they were in escaping the creatures. And even if they did, what then? The Ministry were out to get her, the Fae were out to get her, by this point Bees and his employer probably thought she had betrayed them, too.
Something scratched down the hall, much closer than the previous sounds, making Pax jolt upright. Grace stirred with a little murmur, seeming to wake from sleep. Pax put a hand over her mouth and listened. Another scratch. It was in the tunnel, moving nearer. It chirped, like wood tapping together.
Grace started with surprise. Pax held her tighter.
“Not a sound,” Pax whispered. “Not a movement. They sense vibrations.”
It scratched closer, claws dragging against the brick. They held their breath and watched the room’s opening with unblinking eyes. Another tapping sound signalled it was just outside. Even though she knew what was coming, the sight of it made Pax cringe.
The sickle moved into view slowly, its smooth head twitching from side to side as its vertical jawline snapped open and shut with another chirp. One of its gangly claws traced along the wall with a chalkboard screech as its canine body moved into the open. Pax felt Grace swelling in fear, and could almost hear her eyes bulging.
The beast paused in the doorway, its claw dragging to find the entrance. It tapped with its clawed feet, feeling for the steps.
Keep going keep going keep going, Pax prayed.
The monster reached a claw in towards them. It ventured up the steps. In the tight space, with it closing in on them, there was zero chance it wouldn’t feel them sitting there. Pax and Grace were rigid, as the ungodly animal rose into the shadow of their room, mantis arms reaching around them. The claws rose over their heads, scratching the wall above, just missing their hair. Its wrinkled face tilted towards them, jaw opening and closing as though tasting the air. It stopped and let out another chirp.
Something in the pause told Pax it had found them.
“Run!” she screamed, and as the sickle reeled onto its hind legs she followed her instincts, same as facing any late-night predator. She drove both her fists into the creature’s groin. Grace scrambled past, rolling out of the way of a flailing claw, as Pax punched and clawed at what felt like some kind of thick genitalia towards the base of the beast’s torso. Whatever she got a hold of, it had the desired effect, as the sickle let out an ear-splitting shriek and fell to the side, arms curling around its face.
