Read Online Rojan Dizon 03 - Last to Rise by Francis Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Francis Knight
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of the chance to do something. The other two waited at the entrance, ready to close the tunnel up, seal it as best they could if everything went tits-up. Not an inspiring thought. Slightly better was the fact that since Trade had started pounding out guns, all the guards had them.
The differences were plain to see inside the tunnel as well as at the entrance. The other tunnels were, shall we say, less crappy-looking than this one. They had dressed stone lining them, at least most of the way, frescos and murals all along the walls, a flat, paved road underfoot. This one had lumpy rock walls that looked half finished and an earth floor that had turned to dust so that little clouds puffed up with every step. Even with the breeze that brought goose bumps up all over, the air felt flat and dead.
“Hey, look.” Halina bent down by one wall, just by the entrance. “I wonder what these do.”
Pasha held his Glow light where she was looking. A series of what looked like lumps of stone poked out from the wall. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if they hadn’t been so regular, like they were put there.
Halina reached out to tug on one, but I was quicker and grabbed her hand away. “The man who had these built was one sneaky little fucker. For all you know, that could bring down a ten-ton slab of rock on our heads.”
We all looked up, but there was nothing to see except more rock. That didn’t make me feel any better about those little lumps of stone.
“Let’s just see where this goes, shall we?” I said. “And not touch anything on the way.”
We crept on in, quiet as we could be, listening always for other footsteps ahead, for the sound of furtive breathing or the clank and jingle of the armour all the Storad wore. Every now and again Pasha would twist a finger and we’d stop while he listened, but each time he’d say they seemed far away – far enough to be at their camp probably, though not knowing how much this tunnel twisted it was hard to tell.
The tunnel seemed to go on for an age, mostly straight but with sudden twists and turns that appeared out of the gloom as we went forward, all with guns out, just in case. Every turn brought my heart into my mouth. What if there were Storad just around the corner, what if Pasha couldn’t hear them, what if Dench had found a way to block him, what if, what if till my eyes went screwy.
The air got colder, the breeze brisker. The boom-shudder of the guns was felt more than heard in the castle, but the shudders got fainter and the booms got clearer as we went on. We had to be getting close to Outside. I could smell meat crisping already, though I brushed that off as wishful thinking. But the end of the tunnel meant Storad, though we’d heard nothing so far. Pasha handed me the lamp so he could twist his knuckles again and try to hear how far away the camp was.
Sadly, he should have tried about a hundred steps earlier. Then maybe we’d have had more notice and we could have retreated in style. Instead, the first we knew about anything was when Pasha’s eyes flew wide open about half a heartbeat before something – a bullet as it turned out – pinged off the rock right by my head and zipped off down the tunnel behind us. I didn’t even have time to say, “Shit,” before a whole bunch of Storad appeared round the next bend, looking menacing in some weird sort of armour I’d never seen before and dark, twisted helmets. We were near the end, it seemed, and they’d snuck in since Pasha had last listened, or he’d been fooled by the twisting nature of the tunnels. Or maybe Dench really had discovered how to block him at close range.
Whatever, there was a brief, frozen moment in time as we all stared at each other before reality kicked in. We were seven. They were about twenty, with more coming round the corner, no longer caring about being quiet or sneaking. Big, nasty-looking men with guns in their hands.
We ran.
I’ll say this about Halina, that girl
The differences were plain to see inside the tunnel as well as at the entrance. The other tunnels were, shall we say, less crappy-looking than this one. They had dressed stone lining them, at least most of the way, frescos and murals all along the walls, a flat, paved road underfoot. This one had lumpy rock walls that looked half finished and an earth floor that had turned to dust so that little clouds puffed up with every step. Even with the breeze that brought goose bumps up all over, the air felt flat and dead.
“Hey, look.” Halina bent down by one wall, just by the entrance. “I wonder what these do.”
Pasha held his Glow light where she was looking. A series of what looked like lumps of stone poked out from the wall. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if they hadn’t been so regular, like they were put there.
Halina reached out to tug on one, but I was quicker and grabbed her hand away. “The man who had these built was one sneaky little fucker. For all you know, that could bring down a ten-ton slab of rock on our heads.”
We all looked up, but there was nothing to see except more rock. That didn’t make me feel any better about those little lumps of stone.
“Let’s just see where this goes, shall we?” I said. “And not touch anything on the way.”
We crept on in, quiet as we could be, listening always for other footsteps ahead, for the sound of furtive breathing or the clank and jingle of the armour all the Storad wore. Every now and again Pasha would twist a finger and we’d stop while he listened, but each time he’d say they seemed far away – far enough to be at their camp probably, though not knowing how much this tunnel twisted it was hard to tell.
The tunnel seemed to go on for an age, mostly straight but with sudden twists and turns that appeared out of the gloom as we went forward, all with guns out, just in case. Every turn brought my heart into my mouth. What if there were Storad just around the corner, what if Pasha couldn’t hear them, what if Dench had found a way to block him, what if, what if till my eyes went screwy.
The air got colder, the breeze brisker. The boom-shudder of the guns was felt more than heard in the castle, but the shudders got fainter and the booms got clearer as we went on. We had to be getting close to Outside. I could smell meat crisping already, though I brushed that off as wishful thinking. But the end of the tunnel meant Storad, though we’d heard nothing so far. Pasha handed me the lamp so he could twist his knuckles again and try to hear how far away the camp was.
Sadly, he should have tried about a hundred steps earlier. Then maybe we’d have had more notice and we could have retreated in style. Instead, the first we knew about anything was when Pasha’s eyes flew wide open about half a heartbeat before something – a bullet as it turned out – pinged off the rock right by my head and zipped off down the tunnel behind us. I didn’t even have time to say, “Shit,” before a whole bunch of Storad appeared round the next bend, looking menacing in some weird sort of armour I’d never seen before and dark, twisted helmets. We were near the end, it seemed, and they’d snuck in since Pasha had last listened, or he’d been fooled by the twisting nature of the tunnels. Or maybe Dench really had discovered how to block him at close range.
Whatever, there was a brief, frozen moment in time as we all stared at each other before reality kicked in. We were seven. They were about twenty, with more coming round the corner, no longer caring about being quiet or sneaking. Big, nasty-looking men with guns in their hands.
We ran.
I’ll say this about Halina, that girl
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