by Darrell Pitt
‘You impudent British dogs! I told Doyle I would make you suffer and die!’
‘Mr Doyle will stop you!’ she gasped.
Ashgrove pushed her to the ground. ‘Soon it will be too late for him—or anyone else—to oppose me.’ He turned to his men. ‘Have we completed the locking procedure?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Put these three into a cell!’ Ashgrove said. ‘I have something special planned for them.’
Gabrielle was still unconscious. The men dragged the three of them to a door at the end of the box. It opened to a long corridor. They were taken down it and thrown into a cell.
There was not a part of Jack’s body that did not ache, but he managed to ease himself across the floor to Gabrielle and take her pulse. She was breathing.
‘Is she all right?’ Scarlet asked.
‘She’s alive, but that was another nasty bang on her head.’
Gabrielle groaned and her eyes fluttered open. ‘What happened?’ she asked, sitting up.
There were no beds in their cell or chairs or windows. It was a cupboard with a locked metal door. They removed the ropes securing their hands. Gabrielle tried the door handle, but, of course, it was rigid. She felt the walls, looking for weak spots. Jack was reminded of Mr Doyle. This was what he would have done.
What had happened to Mr Doyle? Was he alive? Jack felt tears spring at his eyes. He blinked them away. He had to focus on the here and now.
Gabrielle gave up with a sigh and turned to them. ‘Did Ashgrove ask you anything about me?’
‘No.’
‘Good. Don’t offer any information. If he asks, tell him I’m your cousin.’
‘How will we get out of here?’ Jack asked.
‘I’m not sure. We’ll wait until the right moment arrives.’
The airship gave a little shudder and the engine changed pitch. Jack’s ears popped.
‘It feels like we’re landing,’ he said.
‘I wonder where,’ Scarlet said.
Wherever it was, Jack was certain he’d rather be somewhere else.
The airship touched down with a bump and the engines were cut. Jack expected the cell door to open, but nothing happened. Eventually they all stretched out on the floor to sleep.
The sound of approaching footsteps woke Jack. The door opened, light creeping into the compartment. Two men appeared. One was clean-shaven, the other had a scar that ran across his nose from cheek to cheek. Both carried guns.
Scarface waved his weapon. ‘Up! Both of you! And don’t try anything because you’ll never get away.’
Jack and the others were led through the ship until they reached an exit. Outside lay a gloomy rocky passageway. The airship had landed inside a huge cave.
‘Where are we going?’ Gabrielle asked.
‘President Ashgrove has assigned you to the foundry.’
President Ashgrove? Jack cast a look at Gabrielle, but said nothing. The men forced the three of them down the gangway where they were struck by a wave of hot air. A barrel-shaped roof stretched overhead with gaslighting set into the walls. The airship had come in to land through its mouth, where an enormous curtain had been drawn across the end.
The place smelt of fire, metal and smoke.
Jack wondered again about Mr Doyle. Ashgrove would have boasted if he’d captured the detective. Which meant that Mr Doyle was probably working to find them. Either that or…
He preferred not to think about the other possibility.
The men steered them to another underground chamber, larger than the first. They climbed down a ladder to a dusty floor. It was hotter in here. A huge vat of molten metal hung suspended at one end. When it tipped, sparks showered into the already toxic air and liquid poured into a series of circular metal moulds.
Gaslights ringed the cavern. Dozens of people dressed in little more than rags worked at various tasks: moving the cooling moulds to a storage area, setting new ones in place, breaking the dry moulds open so that the contents could be released.
‘Cannonballs,’ Gabrielle said. ‘This is some kind of armaments factory.’
‘Move!’ Clean-Shaven commanded. ‘You’re not here to talk.’
The roof was supported by a vast metal framework to prevent rock falls. It looked poorly constructed; Jack would not want to rely on it during a cave-in. A timber door set into the rock led to another cavern. Clean-Shaven bolted it shut behind them.
They stood on a ledge in the next room, a gantry before them. It clung to the sides about twenty feet above the floor. At the end of the cave was a barred area; metal poles ran from the floor to the roof with a metal door at the base. Here lay a pile of rags where a woman sat, nursing a young baby.
That’s a cell, Jack realised. Everyone must be locked in there at night.
The men forced them along the gantry until they reached stairs. At the bottom, they were handed to another man who identified himself as Stroud. He looked them over as if evaluating cattle.
‘We’ll start you in the coal hopper,’ Stroud said, rubbing his chin. ‘If you survive that, we’ll move you into production.’
‘I demand to be released,’ Gabrielle said. ‘We are being held here illegally!’
‘You can demand all you want. You’re here on President Ashgrove’s orders, and here you’ll stay until he changes his mind.’
‘You can’t support that madman! He should be arrested—’
The man grasped Gabrielle around the throat and pushed her to the floor. ‘We don’t like uppity Northerners here. Our men are sworn to live and die at the president’s command.’
Somehow, Gabrielle kept her silence.
Scarface spoke up. ‘You’re lucky the president decided to let you live.’
Stroud indicated to the celled area at the end. ‘We’re low on labour right now. Otherwise we would have taken you on a little flight to see the view.’
‘A flight?’ Scarlet asked.
‘Into the clouds,’ Scarface laughed. ‘And dropped.’
‘Is that what happens if we refuse to work?’
‘Either that or we shoot you,’ Stroud said. ‘There are two types of people here: those who work and those who die.’
They were led into another smaller cave where an underground steam train line disappeared into a tunnel. Armed guards watched the workers’ every move. Gabrielle and Scarlet joined others in shovelling coal from a waiting caboose. Jack was a wheelbarrow operator. A dozen men did similar work, dressed in rags and looking malnourished. Most in the cavern were black.
The heat was stifling. ‘Is there any water?’ Jack asked one of the men as they wheelbarrowed their loads to the foundry.
The man peered about as if afraid to speak. ‘Not until finishing time.’
‘When is that?’
‘In about eight hours.’
Eight hours pushing a wheelbarrow, Jack thought. Not really the career I had in mind.
Jack wished he had his green coat. There would have been food in the pockets and tools to get them out of there.
The hours passed. The more Jack heard in this terrible place, the angrier he became. The fearful man was named David. He owned a shop in a nearby town, but Ashgrove’s men shanghaied him to work in the foundry. He had not seen his wife and daughter in over a year. During that year of slavery, he had seen terrible, terrible things.
Guards were stationed in every cavern. The workers outnumbered the guards ten to one, but there was no chance of an uprising. The guards were heavily armed and fired without hesitation. Most of them monitored the work from the gantries.
‘They’re building up to something big,’ David said as they shovelled coal into their barrows.
‘What do you mean?’ Jack asked.
‘Some of the guards said they were ready to declare independence.’
‘How?’ Scarlet asked.
David glanced about before answering. ‘They have some sort of secret weapon.’
‘The Whip of Fire?’ Gabrielle said.
‘You�
�ve heard of it?’
‘We’ve seen it in action.’ Jack recounted the battle. ‘It destroyed everything it touched.’
‘Then that’s only the beginning. I heard one of the guards talking about the Excalibur.’
‘What is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
Jack knew of the legendary sword that Arthur was supposed to have withdrawn from the rock. What connection could it have with the next stage of Ashgrove’s plan?
By the time the shift ended, Jack could barely walk. He joined Gabrielle and Scarlet on the way back to the cells. They were covered in coal dust; Scarlet’s bright red hair was almost black.
A guard herded them into the barred living area. It was not so much a cell as an iron frame with vertical bars set into it, a horizontal crosspiece high above the floor. Many collapsed on the pile of rags at the back. There were people of all ages, families, an elderly man. The baby Jack had seen earlier started to wail. The woman tried to soothe it.
Scarlet and Gabrielle huddled together. Jack could tell they were trying to come up with a plan. Some food was thrown into the cells. Many people scrambled for it, but Jack did not join in. He didn’t intend staying there long enough to sample the menu.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
‘What was that Brinkie Buckeridge book where she dug a tunnel using one of her corset bones?’ Scarlet said.
‘I remember that,’ Gabrielle said. ‘It’s The Adventure of the Legless Train.’
‘Legless train?’ Jack said.
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Scarlet said. ‘Unfortunately the floor here is rock and Brinkie’s cell was earth.’
Scarlet noticed that David was watching them. He crept over, joined by another man, Joseph.
‘You young folk better tell me what’s going on,’ Joseph whispered. ‘Especially if it’s going to affect all of us.’
‘We’re getting out of here,’ Jack said.
Joseph eyed him and the two girls. ‘No offense, but better, older, and more experienced have tried. There’s no way to get through that gate.’
‘I know,’ Jack said. ‘But I don’t need to get through the gate.’
The two men frowned. The guard on the gantry stirred.
Jack whispered. ‘You see the bars?’ He pointed at the crossbar that locked the vertical bars in place near the ceiling. Above it was a small gap. Jack explained how he could climb up, squeeze through the opening, throw a rope around a supporting beam in the ceiling and swing across to the gantry. ‘From there I can cross to the guard and steal his keys.’
‘You’d have to be an acrobat to get up there,’ David said.
‘I am,’ Jack said. ‘Or was.’
‘And you’d also need a rope.’
It turned out rope was one thing they did not have, but Gabrielle suggested a suitable alternative. ‘My dress still has far more fabric than is necessary,’ she said. ‘If it is torn into long pieces and tied together, it will be strong enough to support your weight.’
Jack blushed as she tore strips off her dress. ‘Are you sure you want to do that? I mean…your legs…’
‘You’ve seen my legs before.’
‘Uh…’
Scarlet piped up. ‘I’m sure Jack will survive.’
He rolled his eyes.
It only took a few minutes for Gabrielle to weave the long strips into a cable. By the time she finished, a number of the other inhabitants of the cell had woken and Joseph was talking to them. ‘A few of us are worried,’ he said.
‘I’ll be fine,’ Jack assured him.
‘It’s not you we’re worried about. It’s us! Many have tried to escape over the years—and failed. Everyone was punished when they were recaptured.’
David placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. ‘That shouldn’t stop us from trying. Otherwise we’ll be here forever.’
Joseph was dubious. ‘Can you really climb all that way and swing over to the gantry?’
Jack peered up at the bars. He wasn’t sure he could, but he had to try. He needed to know that Mr Doyle was all right. And Ashgrove must be stopped. Not only had the madman killed with the Whip of Fire, but he was also responsible for Frankie’s death—not to mention the stampede in the theatre. For as long as he lived, Jack knew he would be haunted by Mr Shore’s voice.
Not my boy. Not my boy.
‘I’m sure I can,’ Jack murmured. ‘I’ve done it a thousand times.’
Gabrielle said to Joseph, ‘There’s more at stake than us.’
‘What do you mean?’
She explained the attempted assassination of the president and the battle between the army and the Whip of Fire. ‘This country could descend into another civil war within weeks. We must do everything we can to stop Ashgrove now.’
Joseph agreed. ‘Do it,’ he told Jack. ‘It sounds like a whole lot of lives are depending on you.’
Jack found a rock and pushed it into his pocket. He would need it later. Then he gathered the length of rope and wrapped it around a metal bar to form a knot known as an icicle hitch. The knot allowed the rope to loop around the bar several times and grip. Then Jack could brace his feet against the metal and climb to the top.
Well, that was the plan…
He began inching his way up the pole. Below he could see the sleeping guard. The whole thing would be over if the man opened his eyes now. Keep moving, Jack urged himself. Keep moving.
The strain on his legs was terrible and the bars were slippery. Just as he decided to take a breather, he realised he could touch the rocky roof of the chamber.
Good, he thought. That’s that.
Now for the tricky part. He reached for the top edge of the cage, the rope in his hand shaking as he fought to stay upright. This is harder than I expected. If I’m not careful…
His feet slipped. Jack threw himself at the bars with both hands outstretched. Slammed into them, but managed to get a grip. A bang echoed around the cavern. The guard on the gantry grunted, then shuffled further down in his seat. Now Jack felt his fingers slipping—the bar was moist. Quickly, he pulled himself up, balanced on the top and peered down.
Almost a hundred faces stared up at him with openmouthed amazement. Jack blinked away sweat. For all his assurances that he could carry this out, there had been one detail he had not mentioned to them: he had never done anything like this without a net.
There was a thin gap between the supporting beam and the ceiling. Twisting his body to sit upright, Jack tied the rock he had brought with him to the end of the rope and tossed it over the beam. To his relief, he made it on his first attempt. The rope lay looped over the beam, with the rock hanging about six feet below. Jack pulled back and started it swinging.
It was slow at first, but he continued pulling on it so it swung back and forth like a pendulum. Eventually it swung close enough for him to grab the rock and tie the rope into a knot.
He tested it, yanking the rope taut. ‘Bazookas,’ he murmured. ‘This is going to work.’
Jack now gripped the rope and pushed off, swinging across in a wide arc. He missed the gantry on the other side, returning to his starting position to gather momentum to swing across again. But as he did he heard a rip as the makeshift rope began to tear.
There was no chance to stop now as Jack accelerated across the divide. As the rope ripped, he threw his right hand out, and just as it snapped he grabbed the handrail of the gantry. He dropped the rope as his feet landed on the edge, a sound not unlike throwing a dozen pots and pans down a flight of stairs.
The game was up. He had only seconds to act. The guard was awake and ready to tackle him. Now he had to silence him before he called the other guards… Except he was still asleep.
Jack hung on to the outside of the gantry, his heart smashing in his chest, staring in amazement at the overweight guard snoring in his chair. Waited another five minutes, then tiptoed across the gantry until he reached the sleeping man. He stunk of alcohol. A huge metal key ring hung from his waist.
&n
bsp; Jack held his breath. He reached down and teased the ring free.
Yes!
The guard’s head swivelled upwards, his eyes narrowed and his face twisted with fury.
‘What the hell…?’
That was as far as he got. Jack drew back a fist and arrowed it into his chin. The impact was like the crack of a whip, echoing around the chamber as the guard slid unconscious to the floor.
Mr Doyle’s lessons in the fine art of boxing had come in handy.
Thank you, Mr Doyle.
But the guard wouldn’t be unconscious for long. Jack sprinted towards the cells. Every prisoner was waiting for him, many of them grinning. Jack could understand their jubilation. Some had been prisoners for years. Jack unlocked the cell door and men and women began streaming out. It was like watching a stampede, but conducted in complete silence. Scarlet and Gabrielle threw their arms around him.
‘Would Bindi Bobblehead be proud?’ he asked.
‘It’s Brinkie Buckeridge,’ they whispered simultaneously. ‘And yes.’
They followed David and Joseph. Up the gantry and along a dimly lit tunnel. David stopped and raised his hand. Gabrielle, Scarlet and Jack crowded around him. A pane of glass was set into the door. Beyond it was a corridor with two men at the end, playing cards.
‘What will we do?’ Jack whispered to David.
‘I’m not sure. I was brought this way on a work dispatch about a year ago. I think it’s the quickest way out.’
Gabrielle intervened. ‘Leave it to me.’
Before anyone could say anything, she strode past and pushed open the door. Gabrielle then marched down the corridor towards the men, who just gaped at her. Jack wasn’t sure if it was because she was a prisoner roaming around freely or because her legs were exposed. But, for whatever reason, they were speechless.
‘I’m lost,’ she said. ‘Is this where the revolution begins?’
She aimed a flurry of punches at one man’s head and he went down like a bag of vegetables. The other leapt to his feet, aimed a punch at her, but missed. Gabrielle grabbed his arm, twisted it, and kicked his feet out from under him. Even before he hit the ground she had slammed his head into the wall.
‘Brinkie Buckeridge does that at least twice every book,’ Scarlet said to Jack, beaming. ‘Don’t you love it?’
