The Secret Abyss

by Darrell Pitt

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you have any food? It’s been hours since we last ate.’

  The inventor handed over some stale bread and hard cheese. It tasted like heaven. Wolfing it down, Jack and Scarlet crossed to the exit. ‘We’ll be back to save you, sir,’ Scarlet said. ‘I promise.’

  Sadness crossed the inventor’s face. ‘I never wanted anyone to be harmed. Quite the opposite—I only wanted to help people.’

  The door opened to a passageway. At the end was a metal ladder. They climbed it—Jack, with difficulty because of his dress—and inched open a trapdoor to find a floor covered in hay with bales in the corner. Jack’s nose twitched. Through a far window, he could see the sky beginning to lighten. The sun would be up within the hour.

  ‘Can you see anything?’ Scarlet whispered.

  ‘Not yet.’ He climbed into the room and turned to find himself face-to-face with Ashgrove’s domed car. ‘Uh, now I have.’

  ‘My goodness,’ Scarlet said, joining him.

  They located a ladder leading to a hatch. Jack pulled up his dress with a grimace. These things aren’t made for climbing, he thought, as Scarlet stifled a laugh. At the top, he gripped the handle and it clanked open. A rich yellow light poured from inside. It smelt of electricity and copper.

  Scarlet and Jack lowered themselves into the cramped compartment. Most of the controls were near the driver’s seat. Jack searched the console for the Whip of Fire before realising it was set into the ceiling. It clicked easily into his hand.

  It looked like a screwdriver, only bulkier and made of bronze. Mr Slate was right—you really could hold it in one hand. Opening a small panel, Scarlet pointed. ‘That must be the meteorite,’ she said. ‘Make certain you do not look at it.’

  A fragment of blue stone was fixed into the housing. Oval in shape, it was reminiscent of flint. It had sharp angles on all sides. It was hard to define the shade of blue. At first Jack thought it was indigo, but decided it was more like sapphire.

  It has destructive properties. You must resist the temptation to stare into it at all costs.

  Why was the inventor so cautious? It was an everyday piece of rock. A small dark crack ran across the centre. It was blue like the sea—or was it like the sky? Yes, it was like the sky, the endless horizon of an alien sky that had been old when life on Earth was young.

  Within the crack lay a canyon, a shadow that swept down into the heart of that alien world. Standing on the edge of that secret abyss, Jack felt he could gaze into its depths, but that was not enough. Not nearly enough…and he stepped over the edge and fell towards its heart.

  Jack heard a hum. A low tuneless throbbing that was soothing. Comforting. In the distance, he saw the surface of another planet, a distant molten ball of fire. He felt no fear as he plummeted towards it; he knew he would never reach it. Rather he would fall for all eternity, the red sea of fire beneath, the walls of the abyss around him and the sky above.

  The sky. Endless and beckoning.

  Whack!

  Scarlet slapped him.

  But he was falling further into the abyss, only now he saw the look of terror on Scarlet’s face. She was afraid and he didn’t want her to be filled with fear. So he swam to the surface and her voice broke through the hum.

  ‘Jack! Jack!’

  ‘Yes.’ His voice seemed to come from far away. ‘I hear you.’

  ‘What happened?’

  What happened? He had no idea. He had looked into the stone and then… A shudder of fear swept through him. Mr Slate had said not to look at the meteorite. This was why: you could become lost forever in it.

  ‘Where am I?’

  ‘In the barn.’ Scarlet’s face was dirty, and smudged with tears. ‘What do you remember?’

  He sat up. It was warm. They were up on the mezzanine now, hay all around them.

  ‘I looked at the stone,’ he said. ‘I was somewhere else…on another world…’

  ‘You’ve been with me the whole time.’

  He had been hypnotised by the stone. ‘Don’t look at the rock in the Whip of Fire,’ Jack warned. ‘Mr Slate is right. It really is dangerous.’

  ‘I know that. I’ve been trying to wake you up all day.’

  ‘All…what?’

  ‘The sun is setting,’ Scarlet told him. ‘You’ve been unconscious for about fifteen hours.’

  Jack looked at her in amazement. Fifteen hours? It wasn’t possible. He crossed to a crack in the wall and peered through. The sun was disappearing behind a distant hill. It would be dark outside again in minutes.

  ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Scarlet said, her bottom lip trembling. ‘I thought…’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. And he was. He had been foolish. ‘I won’t make the same mistake again. What have I missed?’

  Scarlet told how he had collapsed after looking at the stone. She had been forced to carry him out of the tank by herself and to the upper floor. ‘It was challenging.’ Scarlet smiled. ‘I almost dropped you on your head. Partly because you were heavy and partly because you were stupid.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Fortunately, no-one had entered the barn. But men had been in and out of Ashgrove’s house all day. Jack had slept so soundly Scarlet almost thought him dead. She had been so terrified for him, in fact, that she even considered surrendering to Ashgrove in the hope of medical attention.

  ‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ Jack said. ‘It’s more likely that Ashgrove would have fed us to his dogs.’

  ‘I know.’

  The Whip of Fire lay on the floor. Jack picked it up and went to shove it into his pocket. Then remembered he was wearing a dress and instead jammed it into his petticoat. ‘I don’t know how you girls operate,’ he said.

  ‘We have secret compartments.’

  They waited another hour. Then they climbed down from the mezzanine and crossed to the trapdoor in the floor. Jack knelt to pull it open.

  Scarlet grabbed his arm. ‘Wait,’ she whispered.

  There was no mistaking the sound. Someone was climbing the ladder.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Scarlet grabbed Jack’s arm and pointed to the bales of hay. They scrambled over, landed in a pile of soft straw and buried themselves. The trapdoor eased open and a man spoke.

  ‘I’m sure I heard voices.’

  Jack did not recognise the man. He felt his nose twitch. He wanted to sneeze, but he fought back the impulse. Now his eyes were watering and he bit hard on his tongue. He hoped he and Scarlet were buried far enough under the hay.

  ‘You’re imagining things,’ came another voice.

  ‘Maybe. I’ll take a look around. You know what the president’s like.’

  Jack remained motionless. The man waved a torch around and leaned in low over the bales. Jack thought his heart was about to stop. The man would cry out, he and Scarlet would be recaptured and then… ‘See? Nothing.’

  The first man grunted. He drew back from the bales, and Jack heard them return to the trapdoor.

  ‘I was supposed to finish half an hour ago.’

  ‘You’re blaming me?’

  ‘Who else?’

  Jack heard the men disappear back down the tunnel. Letting out a ragged breath, he lifted his head to see Scarlet already peering over the bales. ‘That’s unfortunate,’ she said.

  ‘It means we can’t free Mr Slate yet.’

  ‘But we should still try to find the rest of the meteorite. Leaving it in Ashgrove’s possession is far too dangerous.’

  Scarlet eased the door open. Jack was still finding it hard to believe he had been unconscious the whole day; it felt like a few minutes had passed. They returned to the house and made their way to the stairs, climbing to the next level where they found a room with a desk and a bookcase full of books. A painting hung on the wall.

  ‘This must be it,’ Scarlet whispered.

  Jack went to the painting and eased it down. Behind was the combination safe as Mr Slate had predicted. Jack reached for the w
eapon. He had no idea how to use the device, but he imagined he and Scarlet could work it out. Assuming they didn’t accidently blow up the building.

  A distant noise came from the staircase. Footsteps.

  ‘Someone’s coming.’ Scarlet waved her arms about. ‘Hide!’

  Jack put the picture back on the wall. The footsteps were nearing. Where could they take refuge? His eyes snagged on the desk. It was a large, old thing, wide and deep, with drawers on both sides and a solid front.

  ‘Under the desk!’ He pointed. ‘Quickly!’

  Jack pulled the chair back, dived under and made room for Scarlet just as a heavy tread entered the room.

  ‘It’s an amazing piece of rock,’ a voice said. ‘And quite powerful.’

  Charles Ashgrove!

  Ashgrove and his companion stood in front of the desk. The painting was placed on the floor and Jack heard a click. He’s opening the safe, Jack thought. Don’t tell me he’s retrieving the meteorite.

  But that was exactly what he was doing.

  Scarlet clenched her fists. They listened as Ashgrove described to his companion how the rock had been found by a rider on his property. It was not safe to look at; the man who found it had lapsed into a coma and not recovered. That almost happened to me, Jack thought. Thank goodness for Scarlet.

  Ashgrove relocked the safe and replaced the painting. ‘I’ll take it with me now,’ he said, ‘and leave it on board the Excalibur.’

  ‘When is the airship due?’

  ‘Very shortly,’ Ashgrove replied, and the men left the room.

  ‘Damn,’ Jack said, easing himself from under the desk.

  ‘He’s taken the rock,’ Scarlet said. ‘What will we do now?’

  More noise came from within the building. It was as if the house had been brought to life. From the window, Jack saw groups of men approaching. A few were pointing. At first, Jack could not see the object of his attention, but then he made out a long, thin airship, black and silent. It was almost a hundred feet long, a sleek fish moving against the evening sky.

  ‘That must be the Excalibur,’ Scarlet said.

  The vessel came in to land and a small group headed towards it. Among them was a figure that Jack recognised: Olinka Slate. The airship readied itself for take-off, lifted back up into the sky and zoomed out of sight.

  Oh no, Jack thought. Now we’ve lost the meteorite—and Mr Slate as well.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘What are we going to do?’ Jack groaned.

  ‘I have no idea, but standing here will not get us anywhere.’

  By now, a number of steamtrucks had pulled up to the house. Men and women climbed from them carrying SLA flags. At first, Jack felt some trepidation, but quickly realised this as an opportunity. They could mingle among these people, hide in plain sight.

  He and Scarlet made their way down the stairs.

  ‘We’ll go out the back,’ she said.

  They followed the corridor until they spotted the rear door. A servant woman entered from a side passage with a pot of water in her hands.

  ‘We’re here for the meeting,’ Scarlet barked. The servant merely shrugged.

  Outside, more trucks were arriving by the minute. Many of the men and women carried guns while others had pitchforks or other rudimentary weapons.

  They followed a line of trees. ‘These people are going to war,’ Scarlet murmured.

  ‘And we’re in the middle of it,’ Jack replied.

  They sidled up to the crowd. Once they were in the heart of the group, Jack felt a little more confident. No-one looked twice at them. He was both pleased and disappointed that he had fooled them in his disguise. Did he really look that much like a girl? Scarlet elbowed him and pointed at the house. A podium had been placed on the front porch. A stocky man, dressed like a factory worker, with tattoos on his forearms and a deep scar under his left eye turned to him. ‘This whole country’s changing tonight,’ he said.

  Jack was about to reply. Then he remembered he was supposed to be a girl. He pitched his voice higher. ‘Oh, yes?’

  ‘What are you? British?’

  Great, he thought. I forgot my accent.

  Scarlet came to the rescue. ‘We’re here to help.’

  ‘I heard some Brits and Frogs were coming over here to join the revolution. I wasn’t expecting women.’ He slapped Jack on the arm. ‘I’m Mark Stenson.’

  ‘Sarah Stewart,’ Scarlet said. ‘This is my sister…’

  ‘Jac…Jill.’ Jack forced a smile. ‘Jill.’

  They shook hands. A boy a little younger than Jack introduced himself as Mark’s son Tom. He was shorter than his father, but when he grew up he would be strong with rugged mountain-man features.

  A small bell rang on the porch and Charles Ashgrove took to the podium. Jack and Scarlet pulled their hats lower. The millionaire began a speech about how this day had been a long time coming. Men and women, he said, had sacrificed their lives for the South to be free. They were about to change the course of history.

  Ashgrove was a charismatic speaker with a deep, confident voice. And he spoke with such sincerity that Jack almost felt swayed by his words.

  But he’s a fanatic, Jack reminded himself. And fanatics are dangerous because they’ll do anything to achieve their goals.

  Ashgrove went on to say that every person had to do his duty as part of a larger plan. This plan had been put in place years earlier and was about to come to fruition, but it would take every assembled man and woman to make it work.

  ‘Once you have paved the way,’ Ashgrove said, ‘we will demonstrate a weapon so powerful that the bureaucrats in Washington will capitulate! The South will be free!’

  The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. Jack joined in half-heartedly. How could these people hate their government so much? Then he remembered what Gabrielle had said. The economy was in ruins. People were unemployed. Crime was on the rise. Radical alternatives probably seemed attractive in difficult times.

  ‘You men and women must now go to your divisions,’ Ashgrove continued. ‘Once you have completed your missions, once you have cut off Washington from the rest of the country, the next phase of our plan will take effect. I salute you. I salute the South!’

  Charles Ashgrove left the podium to the sound of applause. Jack and Scarlet looked about for an exit, but Tom zeroed in on them. ‘Have you been assigned to a division?’ he asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Jack said.

  ‘You girls come and join ours.’

  What choice did they have? They followed Tom and Mark who then introduced three other men. Carl, Sam and William were brothers, all tall and thin. They ran a cotton farm.

  Carl was impressed when he discovered Jack and Scarlet were from England. ‘And you’ve come all this way to help?’ he said. ‘Are you sure you’re not spies?’

  ‘Not at all.’ Scarlet forced a laugh. ‘We were born in New York. Our parents moved to London when we were babies. We returned last year, but they were killed in an accident. It was the fault of the Northerners.’

  ‘We believe in freedom,’ Jack said, trying to sound female. He pushed back his hat and hitched up his dress, remembering a line from Ashgrove’s speech. ‘And enough men and women have laid down their lives for this cause already.’

  Mark slapped him on the back. ‘Spoken like a true patriot!’

  ‘I’m not sure that a pair of Brits can be much help,’ Sam said, scowling. ‘And girls at that. You got any muscles?’

  Without warning, he reached out and squeezed Jack’s upper arm, frowning as he felt solid bicep.

  ‘Kitchen work,’ Jack explained. ‘Makes a girl strong.’

  Sam accepted the explanation, but William stared at them in silence. Mark led the group through the car park to a steamtruck with the canvas cover at the back drawn to one side. Sam climbed in the front and started the engine, while the rest of them piled into the rear. William continued to look at Jack.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Jack said, trying
to sound authoritative.

  ‘Nothin’,’ William said, looking away. He went red.

  Scarlet whispered to Jack, ‘Smile.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Smile,’ she said. ‘He likes you.’

  What a relief. At least William didn’t hate him. Then Jack caught Scarlet’s eye. She was trying not to giggle.

  William liked him.

  Jack smiled weakly at William and adjusted his hat. William gave him a grin, revealing a row of bad teeth. Dentists must be few and far between in these parts. Jack groaned. How do I get into situations like this?

  Carl had not said a word the whole time. Mark glared at him. ‘What’s up with you?’

  ‘We don’t know anything about these girls,’ Carl said. ‘How do we know they’re on our side?’

  Mark chuckled. ‘That’s easy to test.’ He winked at Jack. ‘Jill can plant the bomb on the tracks while Sarah stays with Tom.’

  ‘Great idea,’ Jack said, his palms sweaty. ‘Just great.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Mark described their mission as the steamtruck rattled down the road. Ashgrove had planned a two-pronged assault, beginning with a number of coordinated attacks on roads and rail lines around Washington that would isolate the city from the rest of the country. Emergency services would be unable to deal with multiple assaults. In the second stage the Excalibur would be used to attack the city.

  To the men in the truck, it all seemed perfectly logical. To Jack, however, it sounded like insanity; the country would not abandon their leader because of a few radicals.

  Their mission, Mark explained, was to cut a rail line on the east side of the city. A train was due there at 11pm.

  Jack tried to appear calm, but inwardly he churned with panic. He and Scarlet were trapped with a bunch of maniacs. Ashgrove had wanted civilian casualties kept to a minimum, but it was expected that some innocents might get in the way.

  ‘Got to break a few eggs to make an omelette,’ Scarlet said.

  Jack could tell she was trying to sound enthusiastic.

  ‘Sure do,’ William said. He gave Jack another toothy smile.

  Scarlet leant over and whispered in Jack’s ear. ‘I think your dance card is full.’