The Great Fury (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

John took the fire station holdall into the cab and propped it on the rear seat.

“Let's go,” he said with a grin.

Peter looked at Jane.

“Where do you suggest?” Jane asked.

John squeezed in.

John guided the cab up along Central Park and up past the Guggenheim Museum. They continued onwards until they came to a stop at a large area marked for roadwork. There were several men in hard hats controlling the entrance and the site seemed busy.

“This is the best access to the underground water system,” John explained and Jane paid the cab fare.

It took nearly an hour to obtain clearance and then they descended a steel staircase down a shaft into a tunnel. The tunnel was dimly lit but they could see that the water flowed along the center of a circular tube-like tunnel with a narrow footway alongside.

“Did you bring breathing apparatus, torches and protective clothing?” the site superintendent enquired.

“Relying on you to provide same,” John said.

The superintendent swore under his breath, but he'd checked and his boss had checked and the message had come back that the Mayor had made it clear that this task force was to ‘get every assistance, including his nephew.'

If one of the task force was going to be able to be having tea with the Mayor of New York City, he, the superintendent, was not going to have himself badmouthed.

It took another half an hour before they had the full gear including breathing apparatus.

“You proceed at your own risk,” the Superintendent emphasized. “Just to remind you, several water staff have been badly burned on the skin by contact with the contaminated stretches of water. Don't whatever you do, don't go into the water.”

“Relax, I know the tunnels. I do health and safety checks for the Fire Service,” John reassured.

“Have you got the radio, phones won't get a signal down there,” the Superintendent checked.

“I've got it,” Jane reassured.

“Our team is upstream, so if you run into them explain your purpose. They'll cooperate. I'll radio them.”

“We'll go downstream,” John said.

“What's in the bag?” the Superintendent asked referring to John's holdall.

“Just some Fire Dept. equipment,” John said. As he spoke he turned on the light on his helmet and his torch and turned to lead Jane and Peter away from the tunnel entrance, intending to head deep into the system.

“Radio in regularly and let us know if you find anything unusual,” the Superintendent insisted.

“Will do,” Jane said with a reassuring smile.

“I've got the water sampling gear,” Peter said to the superintendent who was waiting to hear what he was carrying.

As they departed, Peter followed up the rear.

The superintendent watched them go. Then he got on the radio and warned both the downstream and upstream teams that there were strangers from the Fire Service in the tunnels. Then he contacted his boss to complete the information loop.

“As you know the lake in Central Park used to be a water reservoir for the city before it was decommissioned,” John said as they walked along.

“Why go there?” Jane asked. They were travelling single file along the walkway and trying to avoid slippery patches.

“Two reasons,” John said. “First there are still connections that were closed off that might be a source of contamination and second if I wanted an easy but difficult to detect way into the system I'd use a disused tunnel from the decommissioned reservoir.”

“Oh, ok,” Jane said agreeably.

Then she shrieked and Peter did the same and John said, “Holy baloney!”

As they rounded a bend a large group of rats and vermin including snakes and a small crocodile came their way. They cowered against the circular sidewall and let the stream flow past them.

“Contamination, they must be escaping from contaminated water,” Jane said. “It must be moving upstream towards the drinking water.”

“Thank God for the protective boots,” Peter said with a shiver as countless rats ran over his boots.

“Track on,” John said and led the way, ignoring the rats.

When they came to a point where the vermin ceased Jane called a halt.

“Let me check the water,” she said. “If the rats are out it must be the start of a contaminated stretch.”

“It looks red in color,” Peter said.

“Like red mercury,” Jane said.

“This is a result, not a source,” John said. “We must press on. There is a circular area ahead where the old connection to the Central Park Reservoir used to connect to this tunnel.”

John led the way until they came to a large chamber about the size of a cinema. He shone the torch and they could make out a bricked up area on a far wall.

“Looks like the connection here is secure,” John said, his disappointment showing in his voice. That said he had not expected and easy solution although this was his best bet for an intrusion into the system.

“The water here is very murky,” Peter observed.

“This is amazing,” Jane said. “Where we came in to the system the water was clear and here we are a half a mile further downstream and the water is reddish. If it continues to spread at this rate the whole system will be contaminated by tomorrow morning, drinking water included.”

“Should we sample?” Peter suggested.

“Samples won't solve the problem,” John replied.

“Yes we should sample,” Jane said.

“Logically, the more dense the contamination the nearer the source we are,” she added.

Peter unhooked his backpack and took out a fairly simple water sampling kit.

“Hold my belt,” he said and leaned over the walkway into the churning water below. Jane took hold of Peter's belt as he leaned in.

“That's not safe,” John protested.

“It's ok,” Jane said.

As she spoke her foot slid on a slimy patch and she began to go down on her backside. John grabbed for her and Peter straightened up but took her weight on the small of his back and as she fell over him. Jane kicked Peter who dropped the sampling glass and in the tangle John tripped and fell into the water.

“Jesus!” John exclaimed as he came up for air. He was a good swimmer but well weighed down with his holdall and protective clothing and he struggled as the water churned about him. Peter recovered his composure and reached out an arm to John. Together Jane and Peter hauled John back up out of the water and onto the walkway.

“Shit!” John swore as he sat with his back against the sidewall wringing wet, and they all laughed.

They sat for a moment and then John sat bolt upright with a startled look on his face. “My holdall!” he said.

“Must be underwater,” Jane said.

“You lost it in the struggle,” Peter concluded.

“Your skin should be burning,” Jane said.

“What?” John asked.

“You fell into a heavily contaminated pool. We have to act fast or your skin will peel off,” Jane added, scrambling to her feet. “Get his clothes off,” she added.

“Hold on!” John replied in alarm.

“The rats' skin burns,” Peter said, shining his torch on John.

“I'm ok,” John said.

“Strange,” Peter said as he checked John out and Jane nodded in agreement. John was very wet but as far as they could make out there was no sign of a burn or even a rash.

“Any more sample jars Peter?” Jane asked.

Peter went to his backpack and retrieved a sample jar.

“I've got a few,” he said with a grin. “I was in the army. Always bring backup.”

They made their way to the water edge and Peter and Jane shone their torches. Underwater they could see John's torch where it lay in its waterproof casing still shining where he had dropped it.

“I have to get my holdall,” John said, standing and dripping wet. He took off his outer protective clothing as he stood, the better as he saw it to maneuver in the water.

“Just a minute,” Peter said. “Look, the water has cleared.”

The murky reddish tinge had indeed disappeared. The water seemed crystal clear.

Ignoring them John dived into the pool and swimming underwater he retrieved his torch and trashed about looking for his holdall. It was near the torch where he had fallen in and he surfaced with a flourish. Jane took the backpack and Peter pulled John out of the water.

“Heavy, what's in there?” Jane remarked as she hefted the holdall.

“Metal,” John said, reaching with the intention of retrieving the holdall from Jane.

Jane dodged his outreached hand and stepped back.

“Can I look?” she asked.

“Sorry,” John insisted.

“Hey!” Peter interrupted them. “Look!”

As he spoke Peter pointed to the water. The reddish color was returning in force.

Jane dodged under John's outreached hand and lying on the walkway she put the holdall back into the water, holding it by the straps. It hit with a splash. Then they watched in amazement as emanating in a circle out from the holdall, the water cleared and the color retreated.

“What's in the bag?” Jane asked as she hauled it back out of the water.

“Color coming back quickly,” Peter said.

“The bag is a personal matter,” John said reaching down but Jane refused to let go.

“Not any more,” Jane said. “Whatever it is, it can drive out the contamination.”

“Is it some sort of detergent?” Peter asked.

John took a deep breath. He had not expected this and did not know how to handle the situation. He wondered should he kill the two of them but decided that would be a bit rash.

“Let me show you,” he said.

John opened the holdall to take out its contents.

“Is it a sword?” Jane asked as she shone her torch on the metal item John exposed as he drew it out of the holdall.

“Looks medieval,” Peter remarked, squinting at the item in the poor light.

“A sword in a scabbard,” John said and drew the sword a small way out of the scabbard to demonstrate. Immediately the exposed part of the sword began to glow giving off a low purplish yellow light. John rammed it back into the scabbard.

“That's not Fire Service equipment,” Jane said sarcastically.

“A medieval sword,” Peter said in wonder.

“Older than that,” John said grimly.

“Roman?” Jane asked.

“Very much older.”

‘Egyptian?” Peter wagered.

“No, half as old as time. This sword once belonged to a Celtic God,” John said, wondering as he spoke should he be explaining this.

“Yeah,” Jane said, “and my granny was a fairy.”

“You don't have to believe me,” John said.

“Good,” Peter agreed with a grin at Jane.

“Just dip it in the water again,” Jane asked, adding, “please,” as John looked doubtful.

Holding by the scabbard, John leaned in and put the tip of the sword into the water. Immediately the contamination retreated.

“Interesting, very interesting,” Jane remarked. Peter just stared in wonder.

John sighed. He knew this was trouble.

“The sword is called the ‘Great Fury,'” he said.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Better give her a blanket,” the Sergeant said.

“Students,” Officer Murray said with a grin. “But she sure is a looker.”

“Yeah but we better give her a blanket before there's a riot.”

“Blankets coming up,” Officer Larkin said as she arrived with two large blankets of doubtful cleanliness.

Sitting on a holding bench, Maedbh smiled gratefully at officer Larkin. She'd had enough of staring policemen, to the extent she had almost stopped blushing at her predicament.

Sitting beside her handcuffed and also naked, Oengus leaned out to the side to give Larkin room to wrap Maedbh in the blanket. He then let himself be wrapped in the second blanket, grateful for the sense of warmth and security it gave.

“Thank you Officer Larkin,” Maedbh said.

“Thanks,” Oengus added.

“It's OK, but call me Angela,” Officer Larkin said with a warm smile. She shook her head. “You students,” she added. “Whatever made you think you could get away with riding a police horse through Manhattan naked and bound in chains?”

“We were escaping from witches,” Oengus interjected.

“Listen,” Officer Larkin said, firmness entering her tone, “The city is in uproar. There is a problem with something contaminating the sewers, there are vermin running through the streets. We have enough on our plate without having to put up with student pranks. Dress as witches or wear nothing if it's your thing, but for goodness sake this isn't the time!”

“And the horse, what happened to the horse, Murray?” the Sergeant asked.

“Sorry Sarge, Larkin and me were on horseback patrol when they came towards us. We intervened and made the arrest. But when I was helping the female down off the horse she kicked me. Officer Larkin was busy handcuffing the boy. When I recovered my balance neither the cat nor the horse were anywhere to be seen.”

“What cat?” the Sergeant demanded. “This is the first mention of a cat.”

“There was a cat on the horse. It escaped,” Murray explained.

“Larkin, get over here,” the Sergeant barked.

“Sarge?” Larkin said, coming over to the Bench.

The Sergeant looked over across his large wooden desk.

“The horse, where's the horse?”

“Sorry Sarge, one minute it was there and then it was gone.”

“Did you see a cat?”

“Eh., yes, it ran off after a pigeon.”

The Sergeant stared. Then he shuffled his papers.

“Look Larkin, take that girl to a locksmith and get her out of the chains. Then take the two of them back to wherever they live. I'm assigning you to a patrol car for the purpose. And Murray, you get back on the horse and out on patrol until your shift is over.”

“Sarge, I have to write this up. That'll take time.”

“Forget it, no horse no charge. Find the horse and I'll reconsider.”

“No charge, but they were naked...”

“Murray, get out there. The city is in uproar.”

“OK Sarge. But shouldn't we hold them?”

“Normally, but I'm not keeping a naked young girl and boy in our cells. We're overcrowded. I couldn't protect them. Get them out of my sight.”

“OK, will do,” Larkin said.

“Just verify their addresses and ID and tell them charges may be brought. That should scare the daylights out of them. Tell them if they are convicted they might be expelled from University.”

“OK Sarge,” Larkin agreed.

“And tell them if I see them again I'll throw the book at them,” the Sergeant added with emphasis.

Officer Larkin led them down to the car pool.

“Hi Walter,” she said. “Sarge ring down?”

“Sure Angela. I'm to take you to a locksmith, that right?”

“That's right Walter you're the driver,” Angela said with smile, adding, “We have to make sure these naked nice young people get home safe.”

“We can't go home,' Maedbh protested. “The vampire will be waiting for us.”

“Enough!” Angela said. She was running out of patience with student pranks.

“Locksmith,” she said and bundled them into the patrol car. Then she got in to the front seat and said, “Officer, take us to the police designated locksmith.”

Smiling at her formality, Walter gunned the engine and eased out of the station.

“Naked? In chains?” he said as an aside to Angela.

“Don't go there,” she replied.

The locksmith inspected the lock again.

“You got a key?” he asked again.

“Sorry,” Oengus said.

“It's protected by a spell,” Maedbh said.

The locksmith looked at Angela.

“What?” she said.

“I've tried sawing the chain. It's seems to be silver but I can't cut it. Silver is soft. I don't understand,” the Locksmith said.

“The inside of the lock is metal, not silver,” Oengus offered.

“I'd expect that, but I can't find a key on my list. This is not a standard lock and I can't pick it,”

“I can't sit here naked for ever,” Maedbh said. “I'll catch cold.”

The locksmith shook his head with a grin, he didn't mind helping a naked young lady.

“Let me try,” Oengus offered.

With a shrug the Locksmith handed his equipment over. Oengus looked at the lock-picking tool. He'd watched the Locksmith try to use it.

“It's only a small lock,” he said to the Locksmith.

“Sure but small can be tricky.”

“But as locks go it seems inconsequential?” Oengus suggested.

“Yes, in the broader scheme of things you are right there,” the Locksmith agreed.

Five minutes later, just as Angela was about to say give it up and let the Locksmith do his job, there was a click and the lock opened.

Swiftly they slid the chains through the arm, wrist and neck clasps and Maedbh could stand and wrap herself in the blanket.

“Good,” Angela said.

“I'll get my bill,” the Locksmith said. “Sign please.”

“You kids are still under arrest,” Angela said as she signed, adding, “You'll take me to your residence. You two will verify your ID and then I let you go subject to caution.”

Maedbh was about to protest about the vampire but Angela raised a hand in anticipation. “Enough about Vampires.”

“Sorry to interrupt Officer Larkin,” Walter said, coming into the shop.

“We're done here, thanks for your patience Walter. We can go now,” Angela said.

“You are normally on the mounted patrol am I right?” Walter asked.

“Yes? Tonight I'm babysitting these two with your help Walter,” Angela said.

“Right, but there's a police horse outside and there's a cat sitting in the saddle.”

“Quit with the ribbing Walter.”

“Have a look.”

The Locksmith gathered up Maedbh's chains while Angela joined Walter to have a look out front.

“If there is a back way out of here you can keep the silver chain,” Maedbh said. “When the spell wears off you can melt it down.”

“OK,” the Locksmith said, knowing a good deal when he saw one.

Outside there was sign neither of horse nor cat.

“Walter!” Angela said in annoyance.

“I swear,” Walter swore. “They just trotted up and waited alongside the patrol car. Then I realized there was no officer on board. I wondered was it your horse Angela.”

“Definitely not,” Angela said, knowing she'd stabled her horse on return to the station.

“They went out the back way,” the Locksmith said when Angela returned to collect her two prisoners.

“What!”

“A cat and a poodle came in. The cat meowed something at the pretty girl and they all ran out back. I followed in case there was mischief afoot.”

“And?” Angela prompted.

“The back entrance was open. Usually it is locked. Maybe the cat squeezed in the window but how she opened the locks is a mystery. Anyway they are gone. I locked up again. I'd guess that kid is a good lock picker.”

Angela sighed. Then she cheered up.

“Where are they?” Walter asked when Angela came out to the car.

“Ran away, escaped out the back,” Angela said.

Walter gunned the engine. “We'll catch them, naked on foot only wearing a blanket, they...”

“Forget it,” Angela said and slipped into the car. “I was going to let them go anyhow. Let them go, they're harmless.”

“Back to the station?” Walter asked.

“Not until the Sarge finishes his shift. I'm not explaining this to him.”

“I know a nice place for a coffee?” Walter offered.

“Go for it,” Angela said agreeably.

***

“How did you find us?” Maedbh asked.

“Puca flew, followed and observed,” Venus explained.

“I do good pigeon,” Puca neighed proudly.

“Will I turn through Central Park?” Puca added.

“Good idea,” Oengus said. “Maybe we can find a place to stay the night.”

“We're going to freeze,” Maedbh said.

Maedbh was sitting on Puca behind Oengus, and Venus was perched on the mane holding to Puca's neck with her claws.

“We have to go back to the witches house, back to the Bronx,” Venus advised.

“We can't do that,” Maedbh said in horror.

“Oengus's clothes are there. Oengus has a credit card in his pocket.”

“That's right, in my wallet,” Oengus agreed.

“So?” Maedbh asked.

“It is impossible to survive in New York without money,” Venus said slowly and clearly.

“I have money,” Maedbh said.

“In the apartment which is probably under surveillance by a vampire,” Venus countered.

“OK,” Maedbh conceded.

***

“What's the plan,” Deirdre asked.

She was sitting in her house in the Bronx with a large towel full of ice against the large bruise on her head.

Leanan was murmuring to herself in the corner and smiling from time to time.

Dearg Due sucked down the last of the sliced liver and wiped her lips.

“We have to tell Morag. She won't be pleased,” she said.

“Nobody has escaped from me before,” Deirdre said.

“Always a first time. I hope Morag doesn't decide to turn you into something unpleasant. She really is quite a powerful witch,” Dearg Due said pleasantly.

“She needs me to maintain the water spell,” Deirdre said nervously.

“The plan as I see it,” Dearg Due said, “is that I go watch their apartment. They may be foolish enough to return there.”

“I'll go check the water spell,” Deirdre offered.

“And Leanan?” Dearg Due asked.

“She can hang out here. Clearly she is in traumatic shock. She may come out of it in time if we leave her at peace,” Deirdre suggested.

“First you tell Morag that you've lost the prisoners,” Dearg Due insisted.

Deirdre made a face.

***

“I have another option,” Oengus said.

“Yes?” Venus prompted.

“We take the subway,” Oengus began. “We can't continue to ride a police horse around without getting stopped.”

“Yes?” Venus asked seeking further clarification.

“We pretend we are beggars,” Maedbh built, working the idea.

“Why?” Oengus asked.

“That way everyone will leave us alone.”

“Good thinking,” Venus agreed, “but you have to conceal the fact that you two are naked under those blankets.”

“No problem,” Maedbh offered.

“Beggars with pets do better than beggars without pets, statistically speaking,” Venus added.

“We'd have to beg at the subway entrance until we have enough for the fare,” Maedbh pointed to the practicalities.

“I could do a horse again,” Puca offered.

“Poodle please,” Venus instructed. “We can't risk going the horse route. We were lucky to get this far without challenge.”

“Can I do a Hugo?” Puca asked.

“Not until we get there, we can't afford the extra subway fare,” Maedbh pointed out.