The Grasshopper's Child (24 page)

‘It's a big floating slab of concrete,' said Challon. ‘There's a string of them, they damp tide surges and generate wave power. But you're right, Heidi, if we're well out at sea we're nowhere near them. And they're on charts, and lit. We
can't
have hit—'

The light overhead went out. The chugging of the engines stopped, replaced by all kinds of scary noises: a thunder of booted feet; hollow crashes, rattling bangs, and above all the rest the screaming agony of metal being torn apart: like a monstrous giant can slowly being ripped open, by a giant can-opener. Heidi and the Hooded Boy gripped hands: a concentrated silence fell. Will they let us out, Heidi wondered. Or will we drown in here?

The door flew open. A powerful flashlight blazed, cold spray drenched them, the sounds of the ship's struggle were suddenly, fantastically loud. The man who'd cleared the cabin and spoken to them in English stood there.

‘OUT! OUT!' he shouted. ‘OUT! OUT!'

They stumbled out of the cabin. A seaman thrust lifejackets at them as they emerged, and hustled them up a flight of steps to the deck. Joe and Jo, George and Clancy and Cyril were grabbed, and disappeared into the roaring chaos. Heidi glimpsed boats down on the tossing water: the dark-coloured open boat that had brought them to the black ship, and at least two big yellow inflatables. A seaman grabbed her and Challon each by the arm, and dragged them to an open hatch. Another man was dragging Sorrel and Brook. Heidi was terrified they were going to be thrown down into the dark. Maybe there weren't enough places in the lifeboats—

‘I AM NOT A DEVIL!' shouted the man who spoke English, thrusting his flashlight and his wet, bearded, angry face at Heidi and Challon. He flung a rolled up ladder, it rattled into the depths, where they couldn't see a thing.

‘YOU! SPEAK ENGLISH! YOU GET THEM OUT! WE SINK!'

‘We have to help get the cargo out of the holds,' gasped Challon. ‘Toss it overboard!'

‘WHY—?'

‘I don't know. Maybe to lighten the ship, try to float off the reef?'

But there were no bales, no boxes. There were terrified faces coming out of the foul dark, into the flashlight's arc. There were sobs of relief, and bodies scrambling.

‘My God,' breathed Challon. ‘They're
Recruiters.
The cargo is
kids
.'

Thankyouthankyou
, babbled the voices, as the slavers' victims scrambled up the ladder—

‘They're not foreign! They're English,' howled Sorrel, as if this was the worst horror. ‘They're
English!
'

The bearded man kept shouting
not a devil, not a devil
. Two seamen were helping to get the kidnapped slaves up on deck. The rest of the crew, all those men from the beach, had disappeared along with the rest of the Exempt Teens. Where was everybody? Were they safe? It was pouring with rain, the sea and the wind roared, torn metal was still screaming. Soaked and blinded, Heidi kept passing on terrified slaves, who clung to her hands, to be grabbed by the men, and thrust over the side.

Was there an escape chute, or did they just have to
jump
? They had no life jackets, how would they reach the boats?

The world upended.

She was deep in the water, shooting to the surface, eyes stinging, spitting salt. Heads bobbed all round her, in black swells greased by random slicks of light. Where were the lifeboats? There had been three, at least three, two inflatables and the open boat. White lifebuoys like giant polo mints bobbed and tossed, in and out of the splashes of light: and roped lockers, and roped blue plastic barrels. The man who said he was
not a devil
must have had everything that would float chucked overboard.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing like enough.

20: Death Is Heartwood

The artificial reef, having ripped the slavers' ship open, then saved a lot of lives. Many of the kidnapped kids managed to clamber onto the submerged platform, despite the roaring seas. Heidi, Challon and Brook —flung clear when the ship rolled and foundered— ended up hanging onto the same rope-looped floating locker. Heavy swell tossed them against the rim of girders that framed the platform. Challon grabbed hold, scrambled over the barrier and pulled Brook after her, while Heidi tried to keep the locker steady. Then Heidi managed to scrabble up herself.

They were safe, for the moment.

The ship with no name had vanished. The swell was calming, the squall that had driven that lame old brute to her doom was over. Rain hissed, but the breeze was lighter: stars glinted through breaks in the cloud. To their left, silhouetted against the platform's warning lights, Heidi and Challon could see and hear a small crowd, shouting and crying. There was nobody closer to them. No sign of the lifeboats; or their friends.

But the man who said he was not a devil must have radioed for help. Soon, amazingly soon, the Coastguard's helicopter came rattling out of the night. A white lifeboat, blazing with lights, came rushing up, creaming water under its bows.

‘ARE YOU OKAY?' shouted a loudhailer voice, right on top of them.

‘All okay,' Challon yelled. ‘Three of us here. Hope everyone else is—'

‘THERE ARE PEOPLE IN THE WATER! WE HAVE TO GET TO THEM FIRST! YOU'RE SAFE WHERE YOU ARE! HANG ON! WE'LL BE BACK!'

A bundle reared out of the dark, and landed by Challon.

‘WAIT!' she screamed. ‘WE'VE GOT SOMEONE WHO NEEDS URGENT HELP!'

The boat was gone, out of reach. There were flares and whistles, lights on the black sea, a rescue operation in full swing; they only had to wait—

But Brook was not in a good way. She sat with her knees up, propped against the girders, clutching her left arm tight against her body. She couldn't lie down, she'd have drowned. The platform rode about half a metre under water, and deeper every time a wave broke.
I'm okay
, she kept muttering.
Just got cramps, I'll be fine
. Challon wrapped her in a silver insulation blanket from the bundle the lifeboat crew had thrown. She ripped an instant-heating sachet of energy drink and tried to get Brook to sip, but the miracle of the cop in the woods' brew didn't happen again. Brook couldn't drink.

Heidi had lost her shoes and socks, and her jacket. She was covered in bruises and scrapes from clambering onto the platform, but she was okay: except terrified for Brook.

‘
Chall?
Is she going to be all right?

‘I think so. We just have to wait for the lifeboat to come back.'

‘The pirate ship went down very fast, didn't it?'

‘Yeah. They must have done it themselves.'

‘What d'you mean?'

‘Opened the seacocks, so the ship filled up with water.'

‘I'm so tired,' whispered Brook. ‘But I can't get to sleep. Have we any spare blankets?'

They wrapped her in all three of the silver blankets, and tried again to get her to sip something, or eat a bit of energy bar, but she couldn't.

‘I feel sick, and my arm hurts, and I'm so cold. Just don't leave me alone.'

The same lifeboat swept by again, laden with survivors. Challon and Heidi waved their arms and shouted, but it sped on, gorging on its emergency services marine fuel. The helicopter rattled round and round; low, but never close enough.

‘Someone will come,' said Challon. ‘That lifeboat paramedic knows where we are.'

‘I wish she knew about Brook.'

‘Me, too.'

They crouched in silence, rocked and drenched by the waves: Challon whose glorious future suddenly meant nothing in her fear for Brook. Brook doggedly hanging on in pain; and Heidi, with what the Rock Mouse had told her running uselessly around her brain. Time stood still. Heidi had to struggle to stay awake, despite the biting cold, and the water that kept slapping her in the face. She noticed after a while, minutes or hours, she couldn't tell, that the lights and the noise had died down. They were alone in the dark. There was no sound but the slapping of the waves, no light but the reef's beacons, and a powder of stars.

‘Heidi?'

‘Yeah?' croaked Heidi, her voice breaking.

‘Change of plan. I'm going to swim for it, and take Brook with me.'

‘
Swim
for it?'

‘I've been thinking. Clancy was right. We didn't head out to sea, we hugged the coast. And we didn't get far. See those two green lights, close together, coming and going? That's the May Channel buoys. You can be sure of them, because you can see lights on land beyond, that don't come and go. Once I'm there, I'm home and dry. It's less than a mile.'

‘A
mile?
Chall, that's impossible. You can't SWIM A MILE!'

‘Most mornings,' said Challon, ‘I swim a mile before breakfast. It's nothing. It's been too long, Heidi. They forgot about us or they're waiting for first light. I've swum around here all my life, I know where we are: I have a life jacket with a radio tag, and I think Brook's having a heart attack. If we don't get her to hospital soon she'll be
dead
.'

It took some persuading, but Challon got Heidi to agree that she probably knew what she was doing. Chall was strong, fit and very sensible. If she said she could swim a mile, with Brook in tow, then she could do it. Their locker was still bobbing alongside. They snagged it, and transferred Brook to this buoyant raft, bundled in the silver blankets: her lifejacket fastened over them, and bungee cords hooked from side to side so she couldn't slip off.

‘Are you okay, Brook? Say if you're not.'

‘Yeah, I'm okay, just about.'

‘Heidi, now all you have to do is get in the water and cling onto the back rope.'

‘No,' said Heidi. ‘I can't. I'll wait here. I'll be fine.'

Chall's face looked up, streaming wet and bleached black and white by the light from her jacket tag. ‘
Heidi?
Are you even awake? Get in the water! I can't leave you!'

‘I can hardly swim at all. I can't swim and I'm too scared, I'd be no help. The lifeboat woman said we were safe here. You look after Brook.'

‘Okay. Let me think. I'm
so worried
about Brook.'

‘Brook can't lie in the cold all night. Send a boat to fetch me.'

‘Okay, I'm going. I'll send a boat, soon as I get there.'

‘I'll be fine.'

At each corner of the platform bobbed a caged, red light. Away from these cages the low barrier of girders was invisible: there was nothing to be seen above the surface. Freed from the terror of watching over Brook, Heidi walked around. Somewhere under her feet power was being generated, but she didn't know how, and all she could hear was the slap, slap of the waves. No rattling machinery, no windmill clattering. She was walking on water, with nothing to explain it, all alone in the middle of the sea. Challon was taking Brook to safety, and Challon was like a rock. Someone was always looking out for George and Sorrel. What about Clancy? He might be dead. Cyril, John, Andy and Jo might be dead. She saw their faces, friends who'd meant more to her, though she'd only known them a few months, than any friends she could remember. And they might be dead. The rain had stopped, there were more stars than clouds, but she kept losing sight of them: tiredness closed her eyes.

She opened her eyes with a start, sitting in the water, far away from the beacons, and very scared to find herself alone. She remembered that Challon was sending a boat. Someone would come for Heidi soon, but she had to stay alert. Frightened that she'd managed to fall asleep on her feet she headed, swaying and stumbling, for the closest light.

On the way she found, by accident, the remains of the lifeboat bundle. She carried it with her, drank a little water and ate a square of energy bar. Her lifejacket might stop her from drowning, but she was afraid of falling off the platform. She eased herself, bum first, into the beacon's cage: once wedged in there, she felt safer. She had nothing to do but wait.

The light at her back gave off no heat, but she
felt
a little warmer.

Think about something else. What happened?

A garlic-flavoured picnic on the beach. Chall and Brook were nasty to me for no reason. And George plagued me,
why
does he do things like that, like he wants you to hate him? There was a ship, a pirate ship. Everyone was arguing, and I didn't understand.
Why
did the Recruiters come after us? They had a cargo.
Why
would they do that, so risky, so near a village: for a few extra bodies? Why hang around, close to the shore? What were they waiting for? And
how did Sorrel know they didn't know
—?

Between each memory blackness rocked. Her thoughts came in chunks.

I need to talk to the Police Inspector. I've got good questions for him now. I wish I hadn't thrown the Rock Mouse in the sea. But I
know
George was in my room. The day the suitcase turned up. I'm afraid he'll say I'm confabulating. I need something he can't say isn't real.