The Beneath (12 page)

CHAPTER 11

It was completely dark in the room apart from the tiny sliver of light coming from under the shutter.

“I’m glad we brought torches,” whispered Will. “Ready to turn them on and see what’s there?”

I nodded, then realised he couldn’t see that.

“Uh-huh,” I agreed, reaching for the torch in my pocket.

I knew from the smell that the Crop wasn’t around, but who knew what else might be lurking in the shadows? Taking a deep breath, I flicked the switch.

The beam of light sliced through the dark, revealing a huge room with racks of shelving. The place was much colder than outside, with a slightly damp feel. It made me shiver. Carrier bags lined the shelves, but the place was hardly packed. Nearest to us was a large pile of
bags that hadn’t been put away.

“It must be the stuff they collected last night,” I guessed.

I lifted myself up off the floor and swung the torch around. No one else was there. Will was already peering into the top bag of the pile.

“Sandwiches,” he announced. “Hundreds of packets of out-of-date sandwiches. They look like the sort of stuff donated by the supermarkets to the homeless. I wonder…”

He paused for a moment but in the gloom I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“What?”

“How many of Aria’s people can there possibly be? This would feed an army.” His voice faded.

“Look, it’s not too late to turn back, I promise you. I don’t mind doing the rest of this alone now you’ve helped me get in.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not backing out now. It’s just, I guess I wasn’t expecting the Community to be so well organised.”

“I suppose they’ve have had plenty of time,” I said, using my torch to explore the rest of the long room.

At the back there was a door, and next to it was a really old-fashioned lift. The doors to the lift were just metal grilles that could concertina up, and in the thin beam of light I could see the gaping void going down into the darkness. That must have been the machinery
that we heard, I realised. I gently tried the handle of the door, and for a moment I thought that was locked too, but as I applied a bit more pressure it suddenly gave. It squeaked horribly as I opened it enough to shine the torch inside.

“Stairs,” I called over my shoulder.

I leaned over the banister and shone the torch beam downwards. The stairs spiralled down, disappearing into the dark.

“So that’s our choice, is it?” asked Will, still peering into the bags. “Take the lift or go down the stairs?”

“The lift will be far too noisy,” I replied. “Have you seen those gates? We’ll never be able to slide them open silently. Everyone down there will know someone is coming. I think we’ll have to walk.”

He was about to reply when above us the lift machinery suddenly groaned, then slowly laboured into action, squeaking and protesting. Far away I could hear a chain rattle.

“Quick!” I hissed. “We have to go down the stairs. If they find us here we’ll be in real trouble and we’ll never save Aria!”

We were opening the stairs door when there was another sound, much closer. It was definitely scratching. My heart almost stopped beating. Was the Crop already here, hiding in a dark corner somewhere, or coming through a small, unnoticed entrance? I swung the torch around and saw a shadow shift out of the corner of my
eye. Whatever was moving was by the shutter. Suddenly there was a long, drawn-out howl, making me jump.

“What the hell is that?” I whispered, feeling the hair on the back of my neck rise.

“Foggy!” exclaimed Will, racing over to the small space by the bottom edge of the shutter. “Did you follow me?”

I ran over with my torch and saw that the dog had got his leg through the gap and was scratching, trying to get inside. He didn’t let up with the howling. Behind us, the lift machinery continued to groan.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, looking between the trapped dog and the lift. “You have to decide quickly!”

“He’s going to carry on howling until we go back out there,” shouted Will over the din. “I’ll have to take him home again and come back.”

“I’m sorry, Will, I can’t wait. Aria’s life is in danger and it’s my fault. I have to go down those stairs now. I’ll see you later.”

“No, you can’t go down there alone. Foggy will just have to come with us.”

Will was hauling on the bottom of the shutter and suddenly Foggy burst through the gap, tail wagging furiously. The noise from the lift was much, much louder. Will let the shutter drop, and this time the can was crushed completely. There was no way we were going to get back out that way.

“Come on then, quickly! Get to the stairs.”

I shone my torch towards the door and Will grabbed the dog by the collar, dragging him with us. As we eased the door shut behind us I could see the light of the lift coming up to the top of the shaft, and we were barely one turn down the stairs when I heard the clunk as it juddered to a halt. Light flooded the warehouse, outlining the door we had come through so brightly that we could see each other perfectly.

I motioned to Will to stay still, and he gave Foggy one of his stern looks. We were in full view of the doorway – if anyone opened it and looked down we would be utterly exposed. I realised that I was holding my breath, and released it as quietly as possible. Will looked equally tense as we listened to the lift doors being dragged open. Were they coming for us? The blood was pounding in my ears so loudly it was hard to hear what was happening. There were some scraping and thumping noises and the lift rattled.

“I think they’re loading the sandwiches,” Will mouthed at me. “Just stay still.”

He kept his hand on the dog’s head, and Foggy sat there, happy by his master, waiting for the next stage in this exciting game. He kept eyeing the stick, as if hoping I might throw it for him.

The loading seemed to take forever, and Foggy was just beginning to get restless when we heard the noise of the lift doors again and suddenly the lights went out.
It was pitch black, and Foggy whined slightly. I could hear Will comforting him, and then the lift rattled past us and was gone. We listened as it whirred for what seemed like an age, and finally it was silent. The lift had reached the bottom.

“That is a
long
way down,” whispered Will. “Walking back up isn’t going to be a lot of fun.”

“And it’s going to take us quite a while to get all the way down there,” I replied, switching on my torch briefly. “Come on, we need to get going.”

I tried to keep count of the number of turns in the staircase, but it was impossible, and the uneven steps didn’t make it any easier. We tried to move silently, not knowing exactly who or what was at the bottom listening to us, but every so often I stumbled. A couple of times I heard Will swear under his breath as he missed his footing too. I tried not to think about what would happen if either of us tripped. There would be nothing to stop us tumbling all the way down.

I hadn’t realised that walking downstairs so far would hurt quite so much. My legs were just about ready to give up when Will, who was ahead, gave a muffled grunt and the noise of metal clanging filled the stairwell, echoing around me.

“What’s that?” I whispered, stopping immediately.

“Something across the stairs. I walked right into it – smacked into it with my leg. Hang on while I check it out. I think it might be a door.”

The torch light was shockingly bright, but it showed us that Will was right – there was a heavy-looking chain-link gate barring our way, leading to a small landing.

“Do you think we’re at the bottom?” he asked, rubbing his knee.

“I’m not sure. It seemed a long enough way.”

He pointed his torch across the landing, but all I could see was a corridor snaking off round a corner.

“We have to go through the gate, but it doesn’t look as if it’s locked. Are you ready?”

I didn’t know what I was supposed to be ready for, but I was about to agree when Foggy charged past me, nearly knocking me over. He had followed us obediently down the stairs but was now bouncing around, clearly enthusiastic about this change in scenery.

“Hang on a sec,” I said, grabbing the dog by the collar. “We have no idea what’s down there and we don’t want Foggy running off. Have you got something that you can use as a lead? How about your belt?”

“I could use that, but … umm … the thing is, I’m not sure how well my jeans will stay up without it.”

I was pleased that he couldn’t see my expression in the dark. “We can use mine then. It just won’t be as long as yours.”

I quickly unthreaded mine from the belt loops of my jeans and strung it through Foggy’s collar. He sat for a moment while I did it, then scratched his ear so enthusiastically that he rolled off the step, nearly
knocking me over.

“Lucky that the gate is there,” said Will, “or you’d have been off down the stairs.”

He paused for a second as I gathered up the end of the makeshift lead, his hand resting on the latch for the gate. I flicked on my torch and directed the beam so that we could see what we were stepping into, but all that I could see was more stone floor.

“Here, let me have the stick,” he said as I juggled the torch and the lead. I handed it over. “Ready?”

He waited until I nodded before undoing the gate. It squeaked horribly as he pushed it, and Foggy lurched forward, growling.

“OK,” I whispered, following the dog through the gate into the space beyond. “What have we got here?”

The smooth stone floor of the landing turned a corner into a corridor that led to a vast, echoing cavern. The rough ceiling was supported by stone pillars, which made seeing any distance with the torches quite impossible. It was warmer than up in the warehouse, and there was a distinctly musty smell. The stone floor was covered in a sprinkling of what looked like dark gravel. There was no obvious sign of either the lift shaft or any more stairs down.

“Is this the bottom?” asked Will, keeping close behind me and checking our backs as we walked further into the cavern.

“I’ve got no idea. We need to find the lift.”

“We can’t have got too far from it. That has to be completely vertical, and the stairs seemed to be reasonably straight, at least for most of the way.”

“Well, we don’t want to go too far in here. We’ll get hopelessly lost. Let’s go back to where we came in and see if we can work it out.”

All the time we were talking I could feel Foggy straining on the lead. I shone my torch on him briefly; he was poised to attack, his hackles up and his teeth bared. A low grumble came from his chest.

“Will, look at Foggy!” I hissed.

Will swung round.

“Wow, there’s something here he really doesn’t like. Come on, let’s back up. Let me take the dog.”

I gratefully handed over the belt, which had been digging into my palm, and looked at the corner we had come round.

“Where is that lift?” I asked, mainly to myself.

I tried to visualise where we might be, but there was no clue. It was difficult enough to see where we had come in; the place was a complete warren.

“What’s that noise?” asked Will, swinging his torch around wildly.

I listened hard, and for a moment could only hear our own breathing and the continued low growl of the dog.

“Shh, Foggy, that’s a good dog.”

Foggy stopped to breathe for a moment and then I could hear it – the distant hum of machinery.

“It’s the lift! It must be going up again! Quick, if we can find the sound we might be able to find the stairs down.”

The noise got louder and both Will and I ran to where we thought it was, but the strange chamber made the acoustics difficult. Any minute and it was going to be past us. Suddenly there was a loud metallic scraping sound from somewhere directly behind us.

“There! Quick, that must be it! The stairs just came out facing away from it, that’s all.”

We ran to where we thought we had heard the noise, dodging round columns and dragging a reluctant Foggy behind us. He seemed to want to stay and investigate.

“Here,” said Will triumphantly. “Look, a lift door.”

As I shone my torch beam towards him I could see that he was nearly right. It was the entrance to the lift, but there was no concertina gate like the one upstairs, just a gaping space. In the thin beam of light I could see the greasy cable, quivering as it pulled the lift up to street level. I didn’t dare get too close, but the shaft down disappeared into darkness.

There was a distant clunking noise and the cable stopped suddenly. In the unexpected silence I could hear something else, a scraping sound that was getting very distinct over the growling of the dog. At almost exactly the same time I became aware of a musty, dead smell. It was a smell I knew, and a shiver of fear ran through me. It
took me a few long seconds to find my voice.

“Will! The Crop is coming. We need to find that way down now!”

“Wh – what? Where?”

“Out there – look!”

The scraping noise was getting closer, and the darkness was playing tricks with my eyes. I knew they were there in the gloom – I could somehow sense them even if they were still invisible.