by Andrew Lane
“I must say,” Balthassar murmured in his fragile, whispery voice, delicately replacing the porcelain mask on his scarred and leech-infested face, “you have demonstrated an uncanny ability to predict my plans from a few scattered facts. Either that, or my plans are considerably more obvious than I had thought. Either way, I cannot afford to delay. If you—a mere child—can work them out, then surely the Unionist government can work them out too. I think that our advance into Canada needs to start within the next few days. Thank you for your assistance.”
“And what about us?” Virginia asked. Sherlock was proud of how level she kept her voice.
“Oh, I have no need of you now,” Balthassar said. There was no trace of anger or vengeance in his voice. There was barely a trace of anything at all. He might just as easily have been discussing the price of tea leaves. “You will be disposed of.”
“How?” Sherlock asked.
“Ah.” Balthassar’s porcelain face was impassive. “There, I confess, I may have misled you. I have a fate in mind for you which will solve three separate problems I have, but it does involve quite a lot of pain and suffering.” He gestured to the brutal Rubinek. “Captain, please take our guests to the new enclosure. My latest acquisitions need to be fed.” He turned back to Sherlock. “My collectors of rare and unusual creatures made sure they had eaten before they were captured,” he said conversationally, “and it takes them several weeks to digest their food, during which time they are almost comatose, but they have had a long journey from Borneo and their current behaviour suggests they are hungry again.” He paused, and Sherlock suspected that he was smiling beneath the mask. “I anticipate that they will draw huge crowds when I display them. By feeding you to them I get rid of you, I dispose of your bodies, and I also make sure my pets have a decent source of good quality meat to keep them satisfied for a while.” He paused for a moment. “I am told they take their food underwater and store it beneath rocks until it becomes … tender. We will all enjoy watching that process.”
Before Sherlock could say anything, two more men had moved from the shadows at a gesture from Rubinek. The three men took Sherlock, Matty, and Virginia by the shoulders, pulled them roughly from their chairs, and started pushing them along the veranda.
Despair filled Sherlock. Despite everything, it looked as if they were going to die a particularly nasty and painful death. He didn’t know what Balthassar’s latest “acquisitions” were, but he doubted they were going to be anything as innocent as squirrels or parrots. Whatever they were, they were likely to be big and have sharp teeth. More cougars? No, he could get those locally, and would not have to hunt abroad for them.
He caught Matty’s eye as they were pushed along the veranda. Matty was looking scared, but he smiled briefly at Sherlock.
The three of them were pushed off the edge of the veranda to the hard-packed earth, and then shoved towards the area of cages, paddocks, and fenced-off enclosures that Sherlock had seen from the train. They seemed to be aiming for a walled area off to one side. The wall looked freshly built. Adjoining one side was a balcony with a view down into whatever was enclosed by the walls. Steps led up to the balcony, and Sherlock found himself shivering when he saw a wooden plank that stuck out from the balcony and ended over whatever lay beneath.
Separate stairs led downward, into darkness. Sherlock wondered momentarily what was down there, but his speculations were broken when Rubinek pushed him up the stairs to the balcony. His two followers pushed Matty and Virginia after him.
Sherlock could see down into the enclosure. From that vantage point it looked more like a pit. The area inside the walls was rocky and uneven, with vegetation growing out of cracks between the rocks and a pool of brackish water taking up about a third of the space. There was no sign of anything living in there, but Sherlock didn’t find himself particularly comforted.
Rubinek manoeuvred Sherlock to the start of the plank. The other two men herded Matty and Virginia together a few feet away.
“Go on,” he said. “You know what to do.”
“And if I don’t?” Sherlock asked.
Rubinek raised his hand. He was holding a small pistol, barely larger than his palm, with two barrels, one above the other. “What’s in there don’t particularly mind whether you’re dead or alive,” Rubinek said. “And neither do I.”
Sherlock looked back towards the house. He had expected Balthassar to follow them and watch from the balcony, but the tall man in the white suit was still on his veranda. He had spread a map across the table and was consulting it. He appeared to have already forgotten about Sherlock and his friends.
Reluctantly Sherlock walked out to the end of the plank. It dipped beneath his weight. The drop to the rocky floor of the enclosure was about ten feet.
“Jump,” Rubinek ordered. Now that Sherlock was following orders, Rubinek slipped his tiny revolver back into his jacket pocket.
“I’ll break my legs!” Sherlock protested. “That’s hard rock down there!”
“So?” The man patted his jacket pocket. The threat was clear.
Sherlock glanced into the enclosure, looked across at Virginia, then took two steps back before running towards the end of the plank and jumping into the enclosure.
He used the springiness of the plank to push himself out as well as up, angling himself so that he arced towards the pool of water. He hit, sending a massive splash up into the air. The water had been warmed by the bright sun, and Sherlock struck out for the edge before anything that might be living in the water could get him. He scrambled out quickly onto the rocks, dripping wet, and looked around. Nothing was coming for him yet.
He looked up at the balcony. Virginia was at the end of the plank, looking scared. Matty was just stepping onto the plank, but he stumbled and fell back against Captain Rubinek, who pushed him roughly back onto it.
Sherlock quickly glanced around in case something was sneaking up on him. There was a splash from the pool, and then another, as Virginia and Matty joined him. He reached out and pulled them both to the rocks when they surfaced, spluttering.
“What’s in here with us?” Matty asked, breathless.
“I’m not sure,” Sherlock replied, looking around. Up on the balcony, Rubinek and his men were leaving. Whatever was going to happen in the enclosure, it wasn’t classified as a spectator sport.
“They’re not watching us,” Virginia pointed out. “We’ve got a chance to escape.”
“The walls are too high to climb,” Matty said dubiously.
Sherlock looked around. “There are loose rocks around. Maybe we can pile them up and climb up so we can reach the top of the wall.” He thought for a moment. “No good. They could see us from the house as we climb over the wall. We need to find a way out where they can’t spot us.”
A scrabbling noise from the far side of the enclosure caught his attention. He glanced that way, heart pounding in his chest. What was in there with them?
For a moment he couldn’t see anything, but then a nightmare head appeared from a dark gap between two rocks. It was long and narrow, with small eyes set on either side. The creature’s skin was a dirty grey-green, and folds of it hung down from that long jaw. The mouth opened as Sherlock watched to let a forked red tongue flicker out, tasting the air, but inside he could see a row of vicious teeth the size of his little finger, curved backwards so that any prey caught by them would not be able to tear itself free.
Matty gasped, and Virginia let out a stifled moan.
“What is it?” Matty whispered.
The creature moved further out into the open. Its body was as long as Sherlock’s, half of it made up of a long, muscular tail. It walked on four legs that splayed out sideways from its body. Its feet terminated in hooked claws that skittered on the rocks as it moved. The grey-green skin seemed like a baggy fit, hanging loose beneath it and swaying as it moved.
Even at that range, Sherlock could see that there was no emotion in those eyes: just a cold and hungry intelligence.
“Some kind of reptile,” he said, “but it’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“It’s the same size as us,” Virginia whispered. “I thought it might be an alligator—they have them down in Florida, I’ve heard, but this is something else. Alligators are slow and stupid, and they don’t like being out of water, but that thing looks quick and intelligent, and it’s walking on the rocks with no problems.”
Sherlock gazed at the thing’s feet. “Those claws look like they could climb trees,” he pointed out. “Not that there are any trees here to climb anyway.”
The creature moved out onto a flat rock and stared at them, flicking its tongue towards them. It knew there was food around.
Something moved off to one side. Sherlock glanced that way. A second creature was emerging from another gap in the rocks. This one was even bigger than the first.
“Look!” Virginia warned. For a moment Sherlock assumed she’d seen the second creature as well, but when he looked over at her he saw she was facing the other way. He followed the line of her pointing finger. A third lizard was moving towards them along the line of the wall. Its head was swinging from side to side as it watched them.
The first creature that he’d seen moved in the other direction while the second one began to head towards them, its body swinging from side to side as its claws got purchase on the ground.
The three creatures appeared to be working together, like dogs. They were pinning Sherlock, Matty, and Virginia down, giving them nowhere to escape.
Sherlock’s mind was racing. Given the size of the creatures and their massive and sharp teeth, they were obviously carnivores, and they were moving as if they were hungry and they knew there was food in the enclosure. They didn’t seem wary or cautious, the way dogs might have been. They seemed deliberate in their movements. Sherlock had a feeling that reptiles couldn’t be scared. Their brains just weren’t made that way. They would keep coming, no matter what Sherlock and the others did. Noises wouldn’t stop them, nor would sudden gestures. Thrown rocks probably wouldn’t work either. They were like calculating machines with teeth.
The monstrous creatures were edging closer and closer now, from all directions. Sherlock, Matty, and Virginia edged backwards, towards the nearest wall. Their options were progressively being closed off by these freakishly intelligent reptiles.
“What’s that smell?” Matty asked, his face wrinkling up. Sherlock could smell it too: something like rotted meat. If those creatures really did swallow their prey whole and then spend weeks digesting it then the smell was probably part of them.
“Sherlock,” Virginia said in a too-controlled voice, “what do we do?”
“Thinking,” Sherlock said, and he was. He was thinking as fast as he’d ever thought in his life.
The creature on their right took a few steps closer. Matty bent down and picked a stone up from the ground. He lobbed it at the creature. It didn’t move as the stone hit the wall beside it and bounced off. No fear, no caution, nothing. It just didn’t care. After a few seconds it took another two steps, legs splayed out to either side of its body.
The creature to their left hissed, head held up as it sampled the air. The other two hissed as well. Sherlock wasn’t sure if they were communicating with each other, or just making noises designed to cause their prey to freeze in terror.
The distance between the reptiles and the three of them had almost halved now, taken up gradually by the reptiles in small steps. No rush, no sudden attack, just a progressive and intelligent process of backing their prey into a corner where they could be eaten at leisure.
And Sherlock couldn’t think of any way of stopping them.
FIFTEEN
“What about the water?” Matty whispered, as if the reptiles might hear and understand him. “Couldn’t we get in the pond and wait them out?”
“I think they’re partly amphibious,” Sherlock said. “Look at those feet. They’re webbed. They can probably swim better than we can.”
Sherlock looked around desperately, hoping there might be something lying about that might help, but apart from rocks and bushes there was nothing.
The reptiles were getting closer now, and the stench of rotting meat was becoming almost too much to bear.
“Oh, I dunno if it helps,” Matty said, “but I got this from that bloke’s jacket pocket.”
Sherlock turned to see that Matty was holding the small, two-barrelled pistol.
“It’s a Remington derringer,” Virginia said. “Pa got me one, once, but I lost it.”
“How the hell did you get that off him?” Sherlock demanded.
Matty shrugged. “I live off my own resources,” he pointed out. “Pickpocketing is one of them.”
Sherlock looked from the gun to the advancing reptiles and back again. “Two lead balls, three creatures,” he said. “Not good odds.”
“It increases our chances,” Virginia said.
“It just means that one of us gets killed and eaten rather than all three of us, and that’s not an acceptable solution.”
“You got a better idea?” Matty asked.
“Actually,” Sherlock said, “I have.” His gaze scanned the walls. “How did they get these things in here? I doubt they walked them along the plank. Too much chance of them getting hurt when they fell.”
“You think there’s a gate or door or something?” Matty demanded.
“It seems logical. All we need to do is look for it.”
Sherlock considered the approaching reptiles more closely. “They’re slower than us,” he said, “but they’ll wear us out eventually.” His gaze skipped over the rocks. “Look, if we’re fast we can climb above them, then jump over their heads and get behind them. Then we can look for the way in. They can’t move fast.”
Before Matty or Virginia could stop him, he ran towards the reptiles. Three mouths full of sharp teeth opened, and the sudden hissing nearly deafened him. Without stopping to think, he leaped onto one of the rocks and from there to a larger boulder. It shifted beneath his feet, and he knew that if he slipped the creatures would be on him in a flash. He jumped, off balance, and saw the reptiles climbing on their hind legs beneath him as he flew through the air, stretching up with their long jaws, hoping to snag his heels.
He landed safely on a patch of open ground. He turned, to find Virginia hurtling towards him. He caught her as she landed and pulled her to one side so that Matty had a clear area. The reptiles snapped at him as he jumped, one of them using its muscular tail to propel it into the air, but its teeth snapped shut a split second after he passed. He hit the ground and stumbled, rolling before he could get to his feet.
Without any show of emotion, the three reptiles turned around and started advancing again, their beady black eyes fixed on Sherlock, Matty, and Virginia.
“Quick!” Sherlock shouted, and led the way to the wall that separated the enclosure from the outside world. To his right the wall was unbroken all the way down to the ground, but to his left piles of rocks hid its base. He ran along the side of the wall, checking in the space behind the rocks. Nothing! Another patch of open ground, and then a large bush that hid the wall. He pushed it to one side, and his heart leaped when he saw a metal grille, rising from the ground to waist height, hinged on the left, and the simple sliding bolt that secured it.
Then he saw the huge padlock that held the secured bolt in place on the other side of the grille.
Matty came up alongside him. “Can you blow it apart with the gun?” he asked, holding the derringer out.
Sherlock considered for a moment. “Unlikely,” he said. “That padlock is massive. The lead balls will probably just bounce off.”
“What about the hinges?”
“Three hinges, two bullets. Same problem.”
Virginia joined them, looking worriedly over her shoulder. “I’m not sure we have much of a choice,” she pointed out.
Matty kicked against the grille. It barely moved under the force of his
foot.
Sherlock’s mind was a whirl of conflicting thoughts. Two choices: shoot the reptiles, and leave one still alive, or shoot the padlock and probably waste two bullets. Which choice should he make?
A small voice in the storm of his thoughts asked: “What would Mycroft say? What would Amyus Crowe say?” And, just like back on the train, a voice answered: “When you’ve only got two choices, and you don’t like either of them, make a third choice.”
His gaze wandered across the pool that the three of them had jumped into, and he suddenly remembered the stairs that had led downward, next to the steps that had led up to the balcony. They hadn’t been leading to the grille, because that opened out onto flat ground. They had to lead somewhere else. The pool was on that side of the enclosure, and Balthassar had spoken of watching the reptiles storing their food beneath stones underwater. Maybe the steps led to an underground viewing gallery; a subterranean room with a glass window looking out into the depths of the pool, so that Balthassar and his guests could watch the reptiles swimming.
But how to break through the glass—if there was glass? It would be thick, to withstand the pressure of the water.
So what he had to do was cause more pressure than the window could stand.
He snatched the derringer from Matty’s hand. Two triggers, of course, which made sense with two barrels. You’d want to be able to fire them separately. He stared down the barrels. “You used to have one of these,” he said to Virginia. “How did you load it?”
“You pour some black powder down the barrel, then you ram a patched lead ball down onto the powder,” she explained, “being careful not to leave any air gaps between the patched ball and the powder. You then put a percussion cap on the other end of the barrel. Then the gun is loaded and ready to fire.”
“Patched lead ball?” he asked, staring more closely down the barrels. “Ah, yes, the ball is wrapped in paper. That must form a seal.”
