Halfway along the rear of the tenement Marni noticed a passageway to the main street at the front of the block. She grabbed my hand and pulled me through.
It was much like any other street in that vast prison camp. People carrying bundles. A road surface slick with mud. A row of workshops with the workers still at full stretch - sewing, smelting, chiselling wood, weaving rugs, boiling animal fat for candles.
Where we were I didn't know, though fortunately the streetwise Marni did. We made our way quickly along the street, then into another network of alleyways. By this time dusk had begun to slip into night. Street lights flickered on as Marni pulled me towards a large Gothic-looking pile set in a line of four-storey buildings. Upon entering it I immediately recognized it as a church that had long ago been gutted by fire, leaving the roof open to the night sky. In the shattered stained-glass windows there still remained sad fragments of angels and saints.
I followed Marni over the debris, exiting from a door at the back of the church. Now I found myself in a graveyard that had been turned over to pigs that snorted and rooted muddily at the ground. At the edge of the graveyard Marni stopped me, then pointed over a wall.
Cautiously, I looked over. For a moment the brilliance of the lights dazzled me. Then I saw it. A twenty-foot-high barrier of concrete, brilliantly floodlit, ran to my left and to my right as far as the eye could see. On this side (the prison side) buildings nearest to the wall had been razed to the ground in order to create a strip of open land running alongside it. In turn, this was fenced with barbed wire. I scanned the top of the wall. Every couple of hundred yards I could see guard towers. If I were to have hoped that those towers were unmanned, my level of optimism would have been that of a lunatic. To underline that thought I saw a police car draw up at one of the towers. Two men clambered out of the back and climbed the steps into the tower. A moment later two other men came out - time for the changing of the guard.
For what seemed a long time I gazed at the fortress-like wall. It lay perhaps fifty yards from me. Beyond that were the bright lights and creature comforts of New York City. I could even hear the traffic. Aromas from some high-quality restaurant just beyond the wall reached my nostrils. Somewhere, maybe no more than a short walk away, would be Kerris Baedekker.
At that moment the truth struck me. That city with all its lights, its noise, its hustle and bustle and its thousands of cars was a fraud, a confidence trick perpetrated by Torrence. He squandered precious resources at such a rate that it would soon lead to the city's ruin. Like a bankrupt spending money he didn't have in order to impress others, he
bought
the loyalty of its free citizens with what amounted to shiny trinkets - whether they were cars, colour televisions, radio stations galore, or the latest chic evening gown. The sounds of New York still reached me, but all I truly heard now was the hollow clang of an empty vessel.
I looked at Marni who gazed at the wall with something like awe. 'What now, Marni? Do we go underground again to get to the other side?'
She shook her head. I followed as she made off again. This time her route took us parallel to the wall. However, she took care to stay in the shadow of derelict buildings. With the absence of street sounds our footfalls seemed unnaturally loud. Time and again I glanced back, sure I'd heard footsteps following us. But it was only the echo of our own feet. After a while the urban wasteland ended. I entered the northern quarter of Central Park, which had been sliced off by the concrete wall. Here, strangely, there were tranquil fields of barley, potato and beet. A sheep bleated somewhere off in the gloom. By the time I reached the far side of the park, moving once more through urban dereliction, my legs had begun to ache mercilessly. 'How much farther?' I asked the tireless Marni.
She gave a little wave of both hands, which I interpreted as
not long now.
Even so, I still didn't see how we were going to scale that wall. I had spotted a number of gates but they appeared to be firmly locked. What was more, guard towers overlooked every inch of the wall. If there wasn't some subterranean route then this, as the New Yorkers would say, had me beat.
The time was close to midnight when we suddenly reached the end of the wall.
I found myself looking out onto an expanse of river. The wall itself ended a few yards beyond the water's edge. However, by means of a timber boom and a heck of a lot of barbed wire the barrier had been extended some twenty yards further into the water.
I felt my heart sink. 'How are we going to do this, Marni?'
She looked at me, her green eyes bright in the reflected floodlighting. Then she gave a shrug as if to say
Do you mean you haven't worked it out for yourself yet?
'Marni, no, not in there. I don't think it's possible.'
She nodded eagerly, then mimed a swimming action.
I bit my lip. 'I was afraid you were going to do that.'
She walked to the water's edge but I stopped her. 'No, not yet. Let's see if there's a better way.' I pointed along the river bank, away from the concrete wall that seemed as unscalable as a sheer cliff face. 'Let's see if we can find a boat or something,' I said. 'Even an oil drum would be better than taking our chances in that completely unprotected.'
She nodded, a trifle reluctantly. No doubting that the kid had guts, I told myself. She was all for plunging in and swimming round the barrier. I was uneasy, though. I recalled from my excursions with Kerris that here we were on the eastern edge of Manhattan Island, so this had to be the Harlem River near where it ran into the East River at the ominously named Hell Gate. And that was no frivolous label for an ordinary stretch of water. Without warning the Hell Gate could become a swirling maelstrom of rip tides and killer currents that could sweep even the strongest swimmer into the great watery hereafter.
Besides, I remembered the aquatic triffid plants in Columbus Pond just a few days ago. I didn't relish finding out what lurked in
these
muddy waters.
A search of the river bank revealed no boat. Once more Marni mimed a swimming stroke. I shook my head.
We headed back into the streets. There had to be something here we could use. I walked along an alleyway, peering into back gardens and yards. Presently I heard the sound of sawing. Homing in on the sound, I came to a workshop. By lamplight a swarthy man sawed at planks of wood. Behind him stood a partially assembled wardrobe.
What caught my eye in particular were half a dozen plastic sacks filled with sawdust. I signalled to Marni to hide in the shadows.
I only had to wait a moment or so before the opportunity came. The swarthy man walked to a doorway and hollered through it. 'Joe… Joe! You ready with that coffee yet?' The carpenter listened to a distant voice. 'What's that? Joe, you said you'd be ten minutes, man. It's closer to half an hour. I got to get this furniture done for shipment or I'm not going to get my shot. There's no way I can do that if you don't keep that coffee coming. Hell, man, I'm dryer than dust out here. If you're not going to pull your weight, then I'm going to see you don't get no food. D'ya hear me, Joe?'
While the carpenter berated the unseen Joe I grabbed two sacks of sawdust. Then I returned to Marni. 'OK,' I told her. 'Let's get back to the river.'
***
'Just do what I do,' I said.
Marni nodded, her green gaze serious.
I emptied the plastic sack full of sawdust onto the river bank. She followed suit. Then, quickly stripping off my clothes, I stuffed them into the sack. After I'd pulled the laces out of my boots I put the boots into the sack, too.
This was no time for false modesty. Nevertheless, I made sure I looked Marni in the eye as I said, 'Now tie up the end of the sack with the lace. Make sure it's good and tight… no. Don't squeeze the air out of the bag. Make sure there's plenty in. It should be inflated when you tie it… good, that's it. Ready?'
She nodded. There was a determined set to her jaw.
I stepped into the water. It was flipping cold. I gritted my teeth. Moving deeper, I tried to ignore the sharp gravel beneath my feet. All the time I scanned the river. It looked particularly dark and somehow evil at this time of night - a deeply sinister abyss oozing with dreadful, nameless horrors.
I realized that more of those water-dwelling triffids might be lurking under the surface. Yet, somewhat rashly, I gambled that the plants either hadn't spread this far or that they favoured the still waters of a lake. From the pull that I could feel round my bare legs the current of the Harlem River was decidedly fierce.
I glanced at Marni. Her skin showed a near-luminous white in the gloom. She gasped and sucked in her stomach at the shock of the cold.
'Don't worry,' I told her. 'We shouldn't be in here long.'
She nodded.
I glanced into her face. In the dark the scar had vanished. What I did notice were her beautiful eyes. They were absolutely trusting. I gritted my teeth and asked myself what fresh dangers I was getting her into.
Something slithered round my knee. I froze instantly. The water was too dark and too muddy to see anything. But I knew I'd felt it. Something smooth and slippery had just brushed against my bare skin.
At any moment I expected to see a sting lash up from the water.
I stood there, stock-still, not breathing, my heart thudding in my chest. Whatever had brushed against me didn't return. It might have been river weed or even an eel. Then again, I didn't want to dwell too closely on what might lurk in that filthy-looking goo.
'Here goes, Marni.' I mustered what remained of my confidence. 'Don't swim yet. Just let the current carry you downriver past the wall. Now, put your arm round the sack and allow it to keep you afloat. OK?'
She nodded, smiling tightly.
'Right. Easy does it. And stay close to me. We've got to keep each other in sight.'
The cold water rising over my body made me clench my jaw. I heard Marni give a stuttering gasp as she lowered herself deeper into the river.
The plastic sack grew taut beneath my arm as it took my weight. Beside me the plastic sack that Marni held gleamed silver. I only hoped the guards on the wall wouldn't notice. A few well-aimed rifle shots would soon put paid to us.
I found I had to paddle slowly with my free arm to keep alongside Marni. And I was right about that current; in moments it had carried us out towards the middle of the channel. Some twenty feet below us would be the slick bed of the river, seething with whatever noxious things had made their home there. In no time at all we were borne downstream, past the boom extension of the wall. Now I could see the bright lights of the city itself. Cars streamed along its roads. I could even see people strolling along a riverside promenade. Night owls were having fun.
Meanwhile, for Marni and I, just fifty yards from the bustling waterfront, the river sucked at our bodies, turning us round, threatening to roll us over and pull us down.
'Grab my hand,' I panted. 'I can't keep close to you.'
Marni raised her hand above the surface of the water. I grabbed it. Held it tight. Now she nodded at the sack I clutched.
It had deflated a little and I looked down to see a stream of bubbles pouring from a nick in the plastic. Nodding, I turned the sack over and gathered the slack plastic into my fist where the gash bled air.
'We'll have to get to the shore,' I whispered. 'I don't want the current to push us across to the other side.' I didn't add that the banks across the water from Manhattan were a congested mass of triffids.
We began to swim, pushing the sacks full of clothes in front of us. Once again something smooth slid across the bare flesh of my belly, nearly fetching a yell from my lips. With a Herculean effort I kept my mouth shut. But shivers like pointed insect feet prickled up my spine and through my hair.
As I swam I expected teeth to sink suddenly into my leg or even, irrationally, a slimy hand to break the surface in front of me and clutch my throat.
But the night swimmer didn't return. We pushed on. I pointed to some bushes over-hanging the water. 'Make for those,' I whispered. 'We should be out of sight of the road.'
The last few yards took a long, long while to cover. A strong current tugged us back, and all the time I expected that invisible denizen of the river to lunge out of the water at my face.
Marni swam hard, the white gleam of the soles of her feet just ahead of me. Moments later I felt something sharp buffet my knees. It came again. I shoved my hand under the water to fend it off - and struck solid stone.
Grateful to have the ground beneath my feet again, I climbed out of the river to join Marni. Exhausted, I sat beside her as she squeezed water from her hair. I'd begun to fumble with the wet bootlace that tied the sack when Marni nudged me, then nodded out at the water.
In the gloom I saw a smooth rounded shape break the surface of the river. It was a glossy liquorice-black. I glimpsed a dorsal fin. Then there came the sound of pent-up breath being released; white vapour flickered briefly above the water.
So there was my monster, my denizen of the deep.
With a smile (and a massive sense of relief) I said, as much to myself as to Marni, 'It's only a harbour porpoise.'
Although I barely had time to enjoy any feeling of deliverance because at that moment an arm abruptly emerged from the bushes to hold the blade of a lethal-looking bowie knife at my throat. More arms appeared to seize Marni and drag her into the shadows.