Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) (14 page)

Becky came and joined me. ‘Well?’

‘Got company down below.’
 

‘Where’s the Eblis?’

‘Bottom floor. Down the stairs.’
 

‘Is there another way to it?’

‘It’s the only staircase.’ Which was true, but there was a disused lift. I pointed back the way we’d come. ‘There’s a bust lift. At the other end.’ It had never worked and hadn’t ever been something of any importance. Up until now.

We locked the door behind us and passed the office with Aaron and the other fella still locked in. At the far end we came to the metal doors of the lift, partially open into a dark shaft. I took out the crowbar levering it wider. There were four cables hanging, filthy, all taut, attached to the lift car at the bottom.
 

‘Don’t fancy that,’ said Casper.

‘There’s no other way,’ I said.

‘You’ll have to help me down.’

‘Will we?’ I gave him a good eyeballing.
 

He returned the stare then looked away, down the filthy shaft.

Becky slid her gun away, tightened her bag on her back and stepping forward. ‘We need to get going.’ She leapt out and grabbed hold of the cables in one move, wrapping her arms around the wires and slowly moved downwards.
 

‘I can’t do this,’ said Casper.
 

‘You’ll be fine.’ I stood alongside him. We were both on the edge of the shaft as Becky moved down. A shadow in the faint light.
 

‘I just can’t.’

‘Look, you either come with us or stay.’
 

‘I won’t. I can’t do it.’

‘All right. Stay. See what Round Up does to you.’
 

This got him going. He reached out and grabbed hold, half fell but maintained his grip. His body swung, pivoted on his hands. Then he wrapped arms and legs around the cable. Crept down.
 

Once he’d descend a metre or so I slid through and held onto the lift doors, pushed them together. As there wasn’t much of a ledge inside the shaft I couldn’t shut them completely but I narrowed the gap, hanging onto the door. There was no sign of anyone in the passageway but they’d soon try to get through. With one hand on a door I twisted round and reached to grab hold of the cable. There was only little light, just a thin beam. I was at full stretch with the shaft below me. I released the door and got both hands onto the cable. I took a deep breath and pushed off with my feet.

The cable thudded into my stomach and my bag bounced around. One hand slipped and I slid down. Though I was tempted to drop down on top of Casper and Becky I swung my arm round the cable and hauled myself to a stop.

I started to descend.

It went fine until Becky stepped off. She shouted that she was on top of the lift. That she was standing on the hatch ready to go. For some reason that freaked Casper and he stopped moving, just below me. First I knew was when my foot stood on his head.

‘I’m stuck,’ he said.

‘No, you’re not. Keep going.’ I twisted my head to see what he was up to.

‘No, I’m stuck. Can’t move.’

Becky shouted up. ‘What’s going on?’

When Casper didn’t say anything I replied. ‘He’s stuck.’

‘Stuck?’

‘Can’t move. Won’t move.’

‘Casper,’ she said. ‘You’re nearly down. Come on.’

He still didn’t move, his body now wrapped tight around the wire.
 

‘Casper,’ I said. ‘You need to move.’

‘Can’t do it.’

‘Move or I’ll move you.’

‘I can’t.’

So I kicked him in the head. He cried out so I did it again. I was in no mood for him panicking. Getting us stuck. ‘Get down that fucking cable now.’ I heard movement.

Millimetre by millimetre he made his way down with my feet catching his head every now and then. Becky stood to the side with her lighter lit, its flickering flame on the three of us.

‘What happened there?’ she said.

‘Nothing,’ said Casper. He glared at me, like it was my fault.

She waved the lighter around, pointing at the hatch. ‘Let’s go.’
 

The hatch was held by two clips which I kicked off before I raised it a couple of centimetres. It was pitch black in the lift car. At least there was no one waiting for us.
 

I dropped down. It bounced when I landed and rubble slid off across the floor. I groped my way to the door and felt around. When I found the gap between the two halves I shoved the crowbar into it. Levered it open a little. There were a couple of Round Up men at the end of the corridor. They talked and shook their heads. They weren’t really keyed up but one had a shotgun. Maybe the other was armed as well.

Casper came down and fell back as he hit the floor. I gave Becky a hand as she dropped through.
 

‘We’ve got company,’ I said.

She pressed her face against the lift doors. Her lips moved as she twisted her head. Then she raised up her pistol and shoved it through the gap. ‘Open the doors once I’ve fired.’

I was about to say that seemed a risky plan. That there was a chance she’d just draw all the other fellas down. But before I had time to say anything the gun fired. Then twice again.
 

I levered the two halves doors apart and we pushed through into the corridor. It was silent. At the far end was the door out to the stairs. It was being pulled closed and it clanged shut as the two men disappeared out through it. They peered through at us and Becky aimed her gun at them. They vanished away from the window.
 

The door to the Eblis was off to the right.
 

Becky tapped it. ‘Is this it?’

‘Yeah,’ I said.

‘Do you know how to get us in?’
 

‘Nico will have the key, more than likely.’ The door was as heavy as all the other ex-prison ones. We’d struggle to blow it or break our way in.

There were footsteps on the stairs, voices. I drew out the shotgun as Becky ferreted around in her bag and pulled out the plastic explosive and detonators.
 

‘That won’t do it.’

’So what do you suggest, Trent?’

When I said nothing she started wedging it onto the door handle. I examined the wall between us and the tank. There was a pipe that went through it. Some old water feed. Alongside it were power cables and a drainpipe, all through the same section.

Becky had backed away from the door. She hadn’t lit the charge and fumbled around with her lighter. Before she set it off I grabbed the explosive and pulled it off.

‘Hey, Trent —’

‘Wait.’ I jammed it behind the pipe and snatched her lighter. Lit the detonator. Then I dragged her off into the lift. Casper was still in there and we pressed ourselves against the sides.
 

‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she said.

Before I could reply, say that I wasn’t sure, and it was a gamble, there was a great blast. Debris sprayed through the gap in the lift’s doors, rattling off the metal sides. Echoing around it.

Becky went straight out into the passageway and I followed. The air was filled with dust and smoke. Masonry and busted metal lay on the ground. And there was a hole in the wall. Where the pipe had been there was now a great breach that led into the room holding the Eblis.
 

Becky was already on her way through and I ducked through with Casper.

Into the room with the Eblis.

T
HE
TANK
WAS
ALL
hard edges, bigger than I remembered. There was rubble around the tracks and parts of bricks lay across its front end and the low loader it was on. Becky was on the hull and Casper clambered up, round the gun-barrel that faced off towards the shuttered door. He placed his hands on a couple of panels. There were several clicks and the hatch popped open and he slid in. I climbed up, across the warm metal. Smooth to the touch. It still made a hum, like blood rushing round my head. Shots cracked in the passageway. Becky was halfway into the turret.

‘What are you planning?’ I said.

‘Blast our way out.’ She dropped into the Eblis.

‘Of course.’ I stayed at the edge of the hatch. That narrow entrance. Getting into it was probably the sensible thing to do. It was much safer than staying out here with Round Up. But it didn’t feel right.

Becky popped her head back up. ‘You coming?’
 

‘I’ll follow you out. Grab my bike.’

She looked as if she was going to argue then sighed. ‘Whatever. See you out there.’ She vanished into the turret and pulled the hatch shut.
 

A face peered through the hole in the wall, one of the fellas we’d scared off. When I waved the shotgun at him he ducked back. He’d soon be back. Maybe I should have got into the tank after all.

There was a whirring from the Eblis. I expected the cough of a started motor then the sound of a heavy diesel engine but instead there were whines and clicks. A dull drone. The turret swung round a few degrees until it was centred on the shutter. As the gun barrel rose up I ducked and covered my ears.
 

There was a thunderous roar and crash. It was like the whole room had been blown apart. The air was filled with dust and the smell of cordite. Bits of metal clattered onto the ground and the sound of the gun echoed round the building. Round my head.
 

The tank settled back onto its suspension. The heavy shutter had been blown apart and daylight shone through the smoke.

With a low rumble the Eblis moved forwards. I walked alongside it, sheltered from anyone coming through the breech in the wall. The vehicle barely shifted on its suspension as it crushed the end of the low loader and pushed through the smashed doorway. It moved with some speed, clanks and squeaks coming from the tracks. I ran alongside as it went onto the road then stopped.
 

There was a clatter as a machine gun fired from Round Up Central. It pinged off the tank’s hull and thudded into the road. The Eblis’s turret swivelled round towards the building and the barrel rose up.
 

I didn’t hang around but ran across the road to the derelict car park where the Scrambler was parked. I ducked behind the bike and peered over.

The tank’s gun roared and the vehicle rocked back on its suspension as smoke engulfed the building and masonry erupted from it. Bricks flew into the air and some clattered onto the ground. A dust cloud billowed out, the building now a shapeless husk in the background. Flames licked from the ground floor where the shell had impacted.

For a moment there was just the sound of burning building then the tanks hatch popped open and Becky stuck her head out.

‘Are you getting in?’ she said.

‘I’ll follow you out of town.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

‘Fine. Can you pass my bags?’

They were still on her bike. I went over and grabbed them, looking the R6 over, all polished and smart. I took the bags over to the tank. ‘What about the bike?’

‘The Yamaha? It’s not coming. This was its last run.’
 

I thought about saying I’d take it. It was a much better machine than mine. But the Scrambler meant something to me. It was a good bike but it was also part of my history.
 

She stashed the bags and gave me that look again, like she wanted to say more. ‘We’ll stop once we’re through the check point. Out of town.’ She dropped down into the Eblis, flicking the turret shut.
 

There were whirrs and whines from the tank as it moved forward then swung round. The tracks clattered as it took a great arc, the gun’s barrel staying aimed at the wrecked building.
 

As I got onto the Triumph I looked over at what was left of Round Up Central. There was no movement, no sign that anyone had survived. I started the bike and clunked into gear. There was a clatter from the second floor, where the office was. Had been. A bullet ricocheted off the ground a couple of metres away.

I gunned the Scrambler and raced after the tank as shots came from behind me.
 

I rode off from Round Up Central for the last time.

We cut across town on New Road, avoiding the Harbour Bridge that had caught Casper out when he first arrived. For a big machine it was fast, clocking forty. They didn’t slow even when carts blocked the way, crushing a barrow, driving over a barricade of planks and barrels that Round Up had set up. It was positioned halfway across the road by West Bridge, narrowing it so that only pedestrians could get through, forcing the Eblis to climb over. It rose up on its tracks, dropping down with a thud as its weight compressed them.

There was room for me to squeeze through and we carried on through North Side, the tank charging up the hill. At High Row people came out of the shops and houses and stared at us. Amongst them was Sophie. She stood on the pavement with her mouth open, watching the tank with her hands clutched against her chest, then lowering them when she saw me. I could have waved, saluted, given some sign of recognition but instead did nothing. I looked away and rode on.