Grimsdon (7 page)

Sneddon lowered himself down to the telescope and trained the lens on the Palace.

He whispered just one word:
‘Xavier.'

CHAPTER TEN

‘Ahoy there, me hearties!' The voice drifted up from below.

‘He's here!' Bea and Raffy leapt up from the lounge where Griffin had been reading and raced to the window to see Xavier's Velocraft sailing between the buildings of their flooded street.

‘It's bigger than I thought,' Raffy said, and the two raced down several flights of stairs onto the landing just above the water.

The Velocraft moved at a good pace, hardly making a sound. It blended into the rain-coloured scene with its faded wood-brown body and thick dome of greying canvas with plastic windows sewn into the front and back. Fly scrambled beside the twins, her legs dangling over the edge, and began sketching in her notebook.

The current hurtled past, curling around the metal stairwell, creating small bulges of water, as if creatures were struggling just below the surface before being dragged under.

The vessel slowed down as it approached. Xavier poked his head out. ‘Raff! Catch!'

Raffy caught the rope as the Velocraft bumped gently into the stairs, and he quickly tied it to the railing.

‘Good work.' Xavier stepped onto the landing and ruffled his hair. ‘You'd make a great first mate.'

‘Can I climb aboard, Captain?'

‘I don't see why–'

Raffy swerved around Xavier before he could finish and disappeared inside the vessel.

‘He loves boats,' Bea explained. ‘We used to go sailing with Dad when we were...'

‘It doesn't get easier, does it?' Xavier said.

Bea slowly shook her head. A gust of wind blew through the street that felt threaded with ice. Xavier lifted the hood on Bea's coat and tied the cords beneath her chin.

‘Hey, Sis!' Raffy cried from the captain's seat. ‘It's got one of those old-fashioned steering wheels. Like on a real sailing ship. Come and look.'

Bea's smile was instantly back, and she jumped down the stairs to be with her brother.

‘How does it work?' Raffy asked.

Xavier crouched down. ‘The wheel turns the rudder, and the pedals on the floor operate paddles under the boat – or you can use these.' He pointed to a set of wooden oars hooked onto the inside wall.

Griffin climbed out of the window of the Palace, clutching an armful of bags. He scanned the Velocraft from front to back with a cautious eye. ‘Is it waterproof?'

‘Waterproof and watertight. It's so dry in here you'll want to make it your new home.'

Raffy spun the steering wheel from side to side. ‘When do we leave?'

‘You're not going anywhere.' Isabella appeared over Griffin's shoulder and climbed out with a life jacket. ‘For this trip we want to scavenge as much as we can, so we'll need all the space we can get. You'll have to wait until the next voyage.'

She held out her hand and helped the twins onto the stairs. Raffy snuggled into his sister's arm, his face falling in disappointment.

‘You can go next time, Raf,' Griffin said.

Raffy slapped his hands against his thighs. ‘It's always next time when it comes to the good stuff.'

Griffin gently nudged him with his elbow. ‘We can read some more
Oz
until they get back.'

‘Okay.' Raffy nodded.

‘I've got an idea,' Xavier said. ‘How about I take you for your first flying lesson in the Aerotrope when I get back?'

Griffin shot Xavier an icy stare. ‘I don't think that's–'

‘Would you?
Really?'

‘I promise.' Xavier held his hand to his heart.

‘He's only eight,' Griffin seethed. ‘He shouldn't be–'

‘Relax, Griffy.' Xavier turned away. ‘I know what I'm doing.'

‘We better get going.' Isabella looked at the grey, threatening clouds.

‘In case you get hungry.' Griffin handed her two apples. ‘And be careful.'

‘She'll be fine with me, Griffo.' Xavier's grin spread across his face.

‘Keep all the doors and windows locked,' Isabella said.

‘We will, and don't forget to–' But before Griffin could finish, a sudden, heavy rain washed into the street.

Xavier quickly untied the rope and flung it in the Velocraft, while Isabella and Griffin lifted Fly and the twins inside the house. Griffin climbed in after them, turning in time to see Xavier take Isabella's hand and help her aboard, pulling the canvas flap closed.

Griffin wiped his face and watched the craft move away and disappear into the grey wall of rain.

The deluge pounded on the roof. Isabella put on her life jacket and looked up warily.

‘Don't worry.' Xavier settled back and pedalled. ‘The dome is made from an old circus tent. She's very safe.'

The Velocraft tossed on the choppy passage of water when something heavy thudded against the bottom.

Isabella gripped her seat. ‘What was that?'

‘A bit of debris. An old log or lounge.' Xavier smiled broadly, until another hard collision lifted the boat sharply sideways, throwing them from their seats. Xavier fell on his back; Isabella landed on his chest.

‘Or maybe something a little bigger?' He shrugged. ‘Lucky you had me to land on. You could have really been hurt.'

Isabella dragged herself upright. ‘My hero.'

‘I knew you'd realise it sooner or later.' Xavier scrambled back to take the wheel.

Isabella rubbed her forehead. Xavier noticed the crimson mark.

‘How did you get that?' Xavier spoke loudly over the rain.

She brushed her fringe over her face. ‘It's a birthmark.'

‘It looks like a lipstick mark.'

‘Dad said it looked like the mark the Good Witch gave Dorothy to–'

‘Protect her from harm.' Xavier smiled. ‘You are lucky.'

The rain stopped as if it had been switched off.

They sat in silence, broken only by the waves clodding against the hull and echoing off the walls in narrow streets.

‘Where were you when they floods hit?' Xavier asked. Isabella flinched but kept a firm eye ahead.

‘We've been all around here. We'll need to search much further away.' She fell silent. Her face clouded over.

‘It's okay if you don't want to say. I just thought–'

‘Griffin and I were in the Natural History Museum on an excursion. We were on the roof where they have these telescopes set up to look at all the landmarks in the city. There were a bunch of us, but Griffin noticed it first.'

Xavier stopped pedalling. ‘You saw it?'

‘There was something moving on the horizon.' She frowned. ‘It came so fast. Rising out of the river like a sea monster until it smashed over everything. The noise was everywhere.'

‘What did you do?'

‘Everyone crammed into the stairwell to get inside. Griffin and I tried to stay together, but I lost him. People were screaming, tripping over each other, and I think I must have fallen and been knocked out. When I woke up it was the next day, Griffin was kneeling over me and I was wedged behind the legs of a tyrannosaurus. Everyone else had left.'

‘And you weren't rescued?'

‘For weeks army choppers airlifted people out. Or boats came when the weather was safe enough. We heard them day and night. After awhile, it became quieter and the choppers concentrated on picking up the people who didn't survive.'

‘Why didn't you go with them?'

Isabella rubbed her arms against the cold. ‘Griffin's parents had been on a riverboat for lunch. They never could have made it.'

‘And your parents?'

‘Mum left us when I was little. Dad worked on the river. He was working that day. Without our parents, Griff and I had nothing to be rescued for.'

The river was calmer now that the rain had stopped. The Velocraft drifted past tall buildings smeared with mould and algae, drainpipes and gutters eaten away by rust, and doorframes splintered and rotten with damp.

‘Did you really watch your parents being swept away?' Isabella asked.

Xavier shifted in his seat and nodded briefly. ‘I keep seeing the look on my dad's face when...'

Xavier fell silent and pointed ahead. Sliding through the water in the distance was a rowboat crewed by two men. They wore long coats with hoods covering their faces. One figure sat rowing in the back, the other perched at the front, a gun resting on his knee.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The man in front saw them first. He turned and alerted the other, who pulled the oars in and started the motor. The boat tore into a wide circle and careened into their street, leaving a spray of water behind them.

Xavier pedalled furiously and steered the Velocraft into a narrow alleyway. The sound of the motorboat was getting louder.

‘How good are you at climbing?' he asked.

‘Try me.'

They pulled up beside an old sandstone building. Isabella tied the Velocraft to the bars of a window, while Xavier withdrew his spear gun from its holster and aimed it at a balcony above. Pressing the trigger, the metal spearhead hooked on perfectly. He wedged the toe of his boot into a crumbled hole in the wall, hauled himself up to the balcony and vaulted over the railing.

‘Are you sure you'll be okay?'

‘I will when you stop asking questions.' Isabella gripped the rope and began climbing.

The motorboat tore into the alley. The man in front lifted his gun and aimed it directly at Isabella. The bullet struck the wall, covering her in a spray of stone.

The gunman reloaded.

‘Hurry!' Xavier cried. Isabella scrambled up the rope.

When she reached the balcony, Xavier hoisted her over as a second shot cut through the air, shattering a window beside them.

‘Lucky this guy's such a bad shot.' Xavier retracted the rope and placed the spear gun in the holster. Below, the gunman unhooked a ladder from the side of the boat. Inside, Isabella spotted ropes, handcuffs and large cloth bags.

She wrenched open the balcony door. ‘Let's go.'

Once inside, she momentarily stopped. On either side of them were rows of shelves piled with books, reaching almost to the roof. ‘The State Library,' she whispered. ‘I know this place by heart. Follow me.'

Isabella and Xavier ran, their footsteps echoing off the marble floor. Behind them, the balcony door slammed.

Their pursuer's great stomping footfalls came closer. He stared at the many rows, unsure which one to take, when he heard a pained cry.

A crooked grin filled his face. He adjusted the rope slung around his shoulder and ran toward the sound. Xavier lay on the floor, clutching a twisted ankle. ‘Don't shoot, mister. Please don't shoot.'

Xavier tried to stand but collapsed to the floor again. The man's smile grew even wider as he raised his gun. He was about to squeeze the trigger when a small sound from above caught his attention.

He looked up in time to see Isabella leap from the top of a shelf to a heavy chandelier hanging from the ceiling. She sliced her knife through the cord. Both she and the light fitting plummeted, knocking him out and pinning him to the ground.

Xavier jumped to his two perfectly healthy feet and slipped the man's gun into his belt. ‘You're good with that knife.'

Isabella jumped to her feet. ‘And you almost had me believing you'd sprained your ankle.'

‘I was in the drama club at school. Shall we take out the garbage?'

‘Definitely.'

They lifted the remains of the chandelier and tossed it aside. Isabella unhooked a set of handcuffs from the man's belt and cuffed his hands behind him. Xavier took the rope and tied his ankles when something fell out of his pocket.

‘Tranquilliser darts.' Xavier kneeled down to pick them up. ‘So he didn't want to kill us, just knock us out.'

Isabella searched his other pockets. In a wallet she found an identity card. Beneath a photo and a gold security chip it read:

‘Resettle us where?'

‘Away from here.' Xavier bent down and grabbed him under the arms. ‘Let's do some of our own resettling.'

They dragged him through the aisles back to the window.

‘Hey!' Isabella called to the man in the boat below. ‘Missing this?'

They pushed the unconscious man over the edge and he disappeared in a splash. The second man waited for the agent to resurface before grabbing him by the scruff of his sodden clothes and lifting him into the boat.

Xavier aimed the gun. ‘Now I suggest you leave.'

They watched closely as the man started the engine, sped to the end of the alley and disappeared around the bend.

‘Well done, partner.' Xavier tucked the tranquilliser gun into his belt.

‘Do you think Sneddon sent them?'

‘I doubt it.' Xavier saw her hands were shaking.

‘Do you want to go home?'

‘No. We've come all this way to scavenge, and that's what we're going to do.'

Isabella turned back inside and walked between the shelves, past books on vampires, fairies and faraway worlds of princesses and evil warlords. They stopped at the end, which opened on to a rounded internal balcony. Above was a glass domed roof, and below was what used to be the entrance of the library and was now a pool with floating fragments of chairs and tables.

‘Dad loved coming here,' Isabella's voice echoed off the water. ‘Sometimes we'd sit for whole Saturdays and not realise that time had even passed. My favourite part was upstairs. I'll show you.'

Isabella ran round the edge of the balcony and up a set of white marble stairs. At the top was a room painted with a flurry of stories: Little Red Riding Hood knocking on her grandmother's door; Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs in the forest; the Big Bad Wolf huffing and puffing beside Jack and his beanstalk. Long tables were strewn with books, pens, pencil cases and dome-shaped desk lamps – all abandoned in a great hurry. A carpeted well was sunk in the middle, lined with furry cushions. ‘Isn't it great?'

Xavier sniffed the air. ‘Yeah, except for the smell of smoke.'

A metal clanging rang out from across the atrium. Isabella and Xavier dived into the cushioned well and peered over the edge. Through the swirling ironwork of the balconies they saw a hunched and bearded man who was muttering incessantly.

‘Who's he talking to?' Isabella reached for her knife.

‘I can't see anyone else.' Xavier climbed out of the well. ‘Let's get closer.'

‘He might be dangerous.'

‘We beat those other guys.' He grinned. ‘Come on.'

‘That doesn't mean–' Isabella tried to stop him, but he was already out of reach. She frowned and climbed out after him.

The man continued his ramblings. His beard was grey and fluffy, while his hair stuck out in plaits of various sizes from under a long-tipped sleeping hat that sometimes bobbled over his face. He wore layers of coats tied at the waist by several scarves and a pair of slippers held together by neckties.

As they drew closer, they crouched behind a large armchair. There were fewer books on the shelves and the man was surrounded by empty cans and sheets of newspaper. Broken pieces of furniture sat in teetering piles. There was a makeshift shelter made out of boxes and lined with rugs. Fishing gear was littered everywhere: clusters of sinkers, lures, hooks and fishing reels arranged in order of size. Rods leant against walls and books on fishing lay open on shelves and tables.

He turned to a large, frayed teddy bear slumped on a stool.

‘A mystery ... never said it would work ... silly things.' He laughed loudly. ‘Always knew. Told them. Silly. Remember?'

‘Is he talking to the bear?' Xavier raised an eyebrow.

‘Looks like it.' Isabella firmly gripped her knife.

In the centre was a pot-belly stove filled with broken pieces of furniture. He bent down low and blew into the opened door. Smoke snaked upwards through a broken chimney. He reached over to a mound of books beside the stove. He opened one up, held the top by both hands and tore it in two.

‘No!' The word was out before Isabella could stop it.

The man spun round, half-hunched, dropping the torn book to the floor. From a metal bucket at his feet he snatched a large fish with a pointed snout. ‘Who'rrye?' He snarled. ‘Come awwwn! Lemme see ye!'

‘Time to go.' Xavier made a run for it, but his foot caught on the edge of the lounge and he fell, the wind knocked out of him. Isabella sprang to help but the old man moved fast and was standing over them, his eyes alight with anger, his fists clenched, the fish pointed straight at them.