‘Look at his leg,’ said Knocker. ‘Has he gone?’
Adolf put his head to Vulge’s chest. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can hear his heart.’
Tenderly they raised the Stepney Borrible into a sitting position and rubbed his hands and his cheeks. Vulge’s eyes flickered and then opened weakly. He was covered in blood, though most of it was not his own. He licked his lips.
‘Trust you to get here when it was all over,’ he said, and he tried to grin. ‘Get me something to drink.’
Adolf returned in an instant with a jade tooth-mug full of cold water, and Vulge drank it greedily.
‘That’s better,’ he said, looking round the room. ‘Pretty good fight it was,’ he added, ‘but you’d better get out of here. With those bells and alarms going the tunnels will be solid with Rumbles.’
‘Okay,’ said Knocker. ‘We’re going. I’ve just got something to do first. Adolf, watch the door.’
Vulge grabbed Knocker’s arm. ‘Give me one of your bandoliers,’ he said. ‘I feel lonely without a few stones.’
Knocker slipped a bandolier over his head, retrieved a catapult from the floor and handed them to Vulge.
‘Leave some Rumbles for us,’ he said, then left the bathroom and passed into a large study. It was an inner sanctum, different from the main office, more private and intimate. Here there was just a bare desk, some books and a watercolour of the Rumbledom countryside on the wall. Knocker flung the picture to the floor and found what he had been hoping to find, a large safe. He looked at it, baffled. The safe was firmly closed and there was a complicated combination lock keeping it that way. He fiddled with it, listened to it, pulled the large brass handle, but the safe door would not budge. He ran back to the bathroom and shouted desperately to Adolf, ‘Damn it, I can’t get the safe open. We’re snookered.’
The German bobbed his head round the door he was guarding. ‘A safe,’ he cried, ‘is that all? Did I not tell you how I got my third name,
Amadeus? By stealing from the most renowned burglar in all of Austria. You come and watch. I will persuade your safe to be friendly.’
In a moment Adolf had his ear pressed against the door of the safe and his nimble fingers were twiddling with the lock. There was a click, then another and another until there was a click that sounded more definite than all the rest and Adolf’s eyes glowed like the jackpot lights on a fruit machine. He pulled the handle with both hands and the massive steel door swung open.
‘Bullseye,’ he cried. ‘You see, I haven’t lost my touch.’
Knocker gazed into the safe and saw a large brass-bound box. ‘You must be the best safe cracker in the whole world,’ he said, ‘Adolf Wolfgang Amadeus Winston!’
‘Danke,’
said the German. ‘I am proud of my new name and will enjoy telling how I earned it, if we ever get out of here.’
They pulled the box from the safe and it thumped to the floor. Knocker flung back the lid and squatted on his heels in amazement. It was full to the top with bright coins and crisp notes of the realm.
‘I’ll be jiggered,’ he said. ‘There’s a fortune here.’
‘No good if you can’t get it out,’ said Adolf.
‘Wait,’ said Knocker, seizing the German’s shoulder. ‘It will need two of us to carry this. We’ll have to leave Vulge behind.’
Adolf stood up, his face angry. ‘You may do what you wish,’ he said. ‘I am taking Vulge … and I remind you, Knocker, money isn’t Borrible.’
Knocker faced his friend, his mouth tight. ‘Spiff wanted me to steal this treasure … I’ll get a second name. Vulge has taken his chances like the rest of us. Why, he’s half dead already.’
‘And half of him is worth all of you, Knocker, and the money too,’ cried Adolf. ‘Remember the great proverb, “Money maketh mad.”’ He kicked the lid of the box so that it closed with a crash.
‘This money,’ said Knocker, lowering his voice, ‘could change life for thousands of Borribles. It’s important, more important than any one of us; that’s why Spiff wanted me to get it home, no matter what.’
‘Who cares about your Spiff? I don’t want my life changed,’ cried Adolf with passion. ‘Nor do other Borribles. The lives I care about at this moment are my life and Vulge’s life, and yours if you will stop being stupid.’
Knocker hesitated. He knew that what the German said made sense, but there were other considerations.
‘Vulge got his name by a valiant battle,’ he argued. ‘You were destined to open the safe. My part is to take this money out of here and win my name that way. Can’t you see that?’
‘I see it,’ said Adolf, ‘but it doesn’t mean I have to look at it. You carry the money if you can, I will carry Vulge if I can; the rest is chance. Let us remain friends though we differ. I like stealing too you know, but sometimes other things come first.’
Just then there was a yell from Vulge in the bathroom. Both Borribles grasped their catapults, and loading them as they moved, dashed through the door.
Two Rumbles armed with stickers were coming into the room, a third lay stunned in the entrance. Vulge was reloading his catapult. A Rumble threw his sticker at Adolf who sidestepped it with ease; the spear thudded into the wall. Knocker fired, Adolf fired and both Rumbles fell. It became quiet and Adolf went to the door to look out.
‘Only those three,’ he said, ‘but others will be coming. Let’s go.’ He crossed the room and knelt beside Vulge. ‘You’re coming with me, my friend,’ he said. ‘I will give you a fireman’s lift. It will be painful but safer than staying here.’
‘You can’t take me.’ The wounded Borrible grimaced. ‘Leave me another bandolier, and I’ll do for a few more.’
‘Rubbish,’ laughed the German. ‘Are you content to die with only one name?’
Vulge wagged his head in that way of his. ‘Go on then, idiot. “It is madness to quarrel with a madman.”’
Adolf ignored the proverb, hoisted his wounded comrade up and carried him towards the door. Knocker meanwhile ran back into the inner sanctum and lifted the box on to his shoulders with a supreme effort. With both of us laden like this, thought Knocker, there is very little chance of us getting out alive. Adolf is right, of course, but then I’m not wrong.
The three Borribles made slow progress. They stopped frequently to rest and Vulge was in great pain, though he said nothing. The electrical system had obviously suffered serious damage, for the lights flickered and often went out. Bells and sirens clanged and wailed as the general alarm spread through the maze of corridors, and shouts and calls could be heard echoing from the tunnels. Something somewhere was burning
and smoke was beginning to drift by, sucked along by the ventilation fans. Soup from the cauldrons left boiling in the kitchen lent an acrid smell to the atmosphere, and the temperature in the bunker was rising fast.
The fugitives encountered several dazed and panic-stricken bands of Rumbles but they were not trained warriors and a show of belligerence was enough to make them sheer off. But every time they passed a branch corridor Rumbles issued from it noiselessly on their padded feet and followed at a safe distance, waiting for the right moment to pounce and bear down upon the Adventurers.
‘I must rest,’ said Knocker for the fifth time. ‘Money weighs you down.’
‘I too could rest,’ said Adolf, panting, and he lowered Vulge to the floor, asking him how he did.
Vulge was near to fainting with pain but he said, ‘Mustn’t grumble. Got to keep going till you can’t go any more, ain’t it?’
They had stopped by the entrance to a dark branch corridor and suddenly two figures leapt out with a cry, brandishing lances. Adolf and Knocker stepped back and reached for their weapons but then held their hands. Before them stood Bingo and Orococco, fresh and alert.
‘Well, hello sailor,’ said Orococco. ‘What’s a nice Borrible like you doing in a place like this?’
Knocker smiled with relief. He gestured towards Vulge and the box. ‘We’re trying to get Vulge out. He’s done for the chief, but the bodyguard nearly did for him.’
‘He knocked them about beautifully,’ Adolf laughed. ‘He deserves twenty names.’
‘He doesn’t look too good,’ said Bingo, ‘that’s for sure.’
‘How did you get on?’ asked Knocker, sitting on the box of money.
Bingo knelt by Vulge and felt his pulse. “Rococco got his, at the door. He came along to keep me company. I’ve been running all over the place but I’m damned if I can find mine anywhere. I hope someone else hasn’t done him. I’ll be stuck without a name if they have.’
The lights in the corridor flickered off and the Borribles grasped their lances and stood back to back. They heard the shuffling sound of Rumbles moving nearer, but then the lights snapped on again and the Adventurers
saw their foes scrambling to get beyond the range of the Borrible catapults.
Knocker came to a decision. ‘You could come along with us … give me a hand with this box and help carry Vulge.’
‘I don’t mind that.’ agreed Bingo, ‘as long as I am free to take off after my bloke at any time. I gotta get him.’
Bingo’s proposition was agreed and the five Borribles moved on, pausing at every intersection. They were followed and sniffed and snuffled at but not attacked. The hazards would increase when they reached the open space of the Central. There, hosts of angry Rumbles might trample them down, no matter how well they defended themselves.
At length, Bingo, who was leading, stopped and held up a hand. ‘It’s the Central,’ he whispered.
They gathered at the end of the corridor and looked out into the wide cavern from which radiated the main arteries of the bunker. A fearful sight met their eyes. Hundreds of Rumbles ran backwards and forwards across the immense hall. Blue lights flashed in the ceiling and alarm bells rang. The roadway leading to the Great Door was crammed with warrior Rumbles, struggling to enter the tunnel and do battle with whoever was at the other end. Thick smoke issued from a corridor above which was written ‘Kitchens’, and stretcher bearers were disappearing into a tunnel marked ‘Infirmary’ carrying their wounded comrades to safety.
Bingo took stock of the scene and turned to the others.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ he said. ‘There’s a tunnel over there with no one in it, or so it seems, the one that says “Library”. I’ll run across the hall, throw a few spears, and it’s more’n likely that a good few of those warriors will chase after me. You’ll have to fight the rest, but then you would anyway. Not much of an idea but it’s Hobson’s, isn’t it?’
It was the only way. Bingo took extra stickers from his companions and with no goodbyes he ran light-footed into the hall. So sudden was his appearance that he got three quarters of the way across before he was noticed; then there were shouts from the non-combatant Rumbles, and the warriors who were crowded round the Great Door tunnel looked up and shouted in their turn.
Bingo planted his feet firmly on the floor and threw sticker after sticker at the enemy. He threw well and he threw hard. Each of his
lances struck a mark and half a dozen Rumbles fell dead or sorely wounded. The others fell back and hesitated, so Bingo drew his catapult and two more Rumbles fell stunned before he took to his heels and, with a remarkable burst of speed, vanished into the library tunnel yelling defiantly, ‘I’m a Borrible, I’m a Borrible.’ Scores of warrior Rumbles raced after Bingo, shaking their lances above their heads, and in a few seconds the entrance to the Great Door corridor was left deserted.
‘Vulge,’ said Knocker, kneeling, ‘Can you make it across the Central? We’ll need all hands to fight our way over.’
‘Get me to my feet,’ said Vulge, sitting up, ‘and give me a sticker to lean on. I’ll waltz it over there.’
His companions pulled him upright and thrust a lance into his hand. He tucked the butt of it under his good armpit and used it like a crutch. ‘There you go,’ he wheezed. ‘Nice as ninepence.’
‘Go for it, then,’ said Knocker, heaving the treasure box on to his back once more, and Orococco and Adolf formed up on either side of him. They had only a few Rumble-sticks left but here in the Central there would be room for catapult work.
‘You lead the way, Vulge,’ said Knocker. ‘We’ll take you pace.’
Because of the confusion that had followed Bingo’s exit the Borribles managed to advance well into the Central before being seen, and when they were the Rumbles were at a loss, for they had no troops of their own on hand to deal with the situation. They knew that Borribles were loose in the tunnels, but they had no idea how large the invading force was. Above all they had not expected a band of Borrible fighters to appear without warning in their midst.
They shouted and squealed and their stomachs turned to water. They ran in every direction, except towards their enemies; they knocked each other down and exchanged blows, anything to get away from the deadly stones that flew so rapidly from the Borrible catapults. They called for their warriors, but they were deep in the tunnels chasing phantoms or other Rumbles in the belief that they were the enemy. Smoke made pursuit and identification difficult and a great turmoil was spreading into the very outposts of the Rumble bunker.
Slowly the Borribles moved over the open area. Vulge hobbled and stumbled manfully, gritting his teeth to keep back the pain, willing
himself not to fall and ruin the escape. As for the Rumbles they kept their distance, making no attempt to attack, but all that changed in a second when a party of their warriors burst from a tunnel on the Borrible flank.