The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue (53 page)

Gunfire exploded into the dark and shattered the calm. Aeroplanes wailed high above. 

The men on the mole hit the ground like a cornfield before a hurricane but it was impossible to see things clearly in the treacly fog. All Ralf knew was that where once men had stood, they stood no longer. Bombs fell on the docks and exploded with red-green flames. The water thrashed with shrapnel and all around, the thickening air thronged with cries and shouts, some angry, some afraid and others filled with despair.

The Sara Luz
thudded into the mole with more force than it should and Leo ran to the side to check for hull damage. At the front of the men on the mole a Coldstream Guards Major, by the name of Swift, sprang to his feet.

‘Next fifty-six. Look lively!’

Around him, men rushed to obey.

There was a scuffling further down the mole and the men parted before a sprinting white eyed private, as if he was Moses himself. The private reached Swift who was bleeding freely from a wound at his left temple and passed him a filthy, sweat stained note. The major read the note and hastily refolded it.

‘You may tell Captain McGee that if I see either him or any of his Company within a quarter of a mile of Dunkirk before 08:00 hours, I’ll shoot him myself!’

The private’s eyes flickered to the men around him then he saluted crisply and ran back the way he came.

Aboard
The Sara Luz
they coiled ropes and prepared to leave for
The Mona's Isle
as planes continued to drone overhead. Ralf tried to keep his eyes on both Ron and Tom as the next group of men were herded aboard.

Ralf glanced at his watch: Eleven twenty-two.

‘The next seventy-two please!’ Major Swift shouted his eyes fixed on
The Sea-Hawke
approaching behind them. ‘Get ready!’

Ralf glanced up to see King at the wheel frowning in concentration. He gave Ralf a quick look, then returned to the difficult task of trying to dock in the churning water.
The Sea-Hawke
hit the mole with a loud crump.

‘Steady the Buffs!’ Captain Keen exclaimed cheerfully.

Ralf and Valen exchanged tense smiles. Keen really was amazing. Nothing seemed to shake his good humour. It was the last thing that went through Ralf’s mind before everything fell apart.

 

An enormous something exploded into the sea next to them. They were slammed by an arc of water that dashed on to the boat, pitching it to a 45˚ angle. Tom was smashed against the cabin where he crumpled, out cold.

Eleven twenty-five exactly.

More bombs fell. Screams of terror shuddered through the air along with gouts of water and scything shrapnel. Ralf’s face was blasted by a scorching wind and another arc of water deluged
The Sara Luz
.


The Sea-Hawke
’s been hit!’ Alfie screamed.

Ralf could just make out the Kingston-Hawke’s pleasure cruiser, listing dangerously to the port side, amidst the smoke and fog. Keen, Munton, King and Tank were prone on the deck. Gloria, face smudged with dirt, lips set in a thin line, her colour blazing in the night, fought the wheel which seemed to have developed a life of its own.

Ralf judged the distance between the two vessels. It was a long way.

‘DO IT!’ Valen shouted, immediately aware of what he was considering.

‘GO, WOLF!’ Leo urged. ‘She can’t hold it on her own!’

Ralf nodded, backed up a pace and, ignoring the perplexed expressions of the men around him, Shifted.

He hit the deck of
The Sea-Hawke
with such force that he had to roll to stop himself smashing into the rail. Gloria blinked in confusion but gladly surrendered the wheel to his more experienced hands. She ran to her brother who lay stunned by the cabin door.

‘Leave him, Gloria!’ Ralf shouted, straining against the wheel, which threatened to tear itself from his grip. ‘He’s just stunned. We’re taking on water! I need you to get to the pumps! GLORIA!’

The desperation in his voice must have got through, because Gloria jumped up again. ‘Where?’ she asked, simply.

‘Through the cabin. As far for’ard as you can go. Under one of the bunks! Open the lockers and you’ll see a handle!’

She disappeared below. Ralf locked his arm round the wheel and, bracing himself, turned his attention to the others on deck. They were coming to. King sat like a rag doll, shaking his head groggily. Captain Keen lay on one side, awkwardly balanced on his good arm. The deck tilted further and the lump that was Tank’s body started to slide past Munton who, coming to, reached out a shaky hand to grab it. What was taking Gloria so long?

‘Great Scott!’ Gloria’s voice from below wavered with shock. ‘Ralf! Help me!’ she yelled. ‘Dear God! Help!’

Help? Do what? What the hell was going on down there?

Ralf didn’t know what he thought. All he knew was that he was impossibly grateful when King crawled forward to take the wheel. ‘I can hold it!’ his former friend croaked, manfully. King raised an eyebrow and gave Ralf a withering ‘girls!’ kind of look. ‘She probably needs help with the handle!’

Ralf left him and charged down the steps below deck.  From the lamp swinging from the ceiling Ralf could see that the galley was wrecked. Pans floated in a foot of lapping water and every expensive cup, glass and plate had been broken in the blast that had holed the vessel. Ralf splashed through it all, pushing floating debris from his path in his battle to get to the inner door to the cabins.

Years later, he would be unable to say what he’d been expecting to find when he got there. All he knew was that he’d most definitely not been expecting what he did find. Gloria had found the locker. She’d opened it successfully but she hadn’t turned on the pumps. Presumably, she’d been too distracted by what was lying in front of
her – the bound, gagged and half drowned body of Charles Hart!

She’d got him part way out of the locker and was sawing at the rope around the actor’s wrists with a kitchen knife when Ralf splashed through the door to gape at her.

‘Don’t just stand there!’ she cried. ‘Help me!’

Ralf surged forward. His mind boiled with questions but his fingers worked at the ropes even as he realised he could not answer them. Between them, he and Gloria freed Hart and got him to his feet where he swayed, weakly. Ralf reached into the locker to throw the pump handle but in his heart he knew it was too late.
The Sea-Hawke
had already taken on too much water.

‘We have to get out!’ he urged.

Gloria nodded. She grabbed one of the actor’s arms and draped it over her shoulders, supporting him as he tried to wade to the door. Ralf rushed to the man’s opposite side but then there was splashing from the galley and Keen stood in the doorway. For one blissful moment Ralf was actually relieved. Then he saw the gun in his hand.

‘Step back, if you please!’ Keen ordered, all trace of his usual good humour gone from his face.

Ralf groaned. ‘You!’

The corner of Keen’s mouth twitched into a smile. ‘Quite,’ he said.

Gloria was aghast. ‘For God’s sake, man! Put that thing away and help us!’ she cried. ‘Don’t you know how important this man is?’

‘Yes,’ Keen’s smile widened. His eyes flashed gold in the darkness of the cabin. ‘
Do you?
’  He turned to Ralf and gestured with his revolver. ‘Now if you would both be so kind as to step away. Mr Hart and I have to be going...’ Something in that look must have told Gloria how close to insanity Keen really was because, for once, she did as she was told and eased herself out from under Hart’s arm.

Ralf hardly noticed. He was too flabbergasted. Keen? He couldn’t be the villain in all this, he just couldn’t!

‘But you were helping!’ he cried. ‘The night the boat lines were cut. It was you who called the coast guard! The fire at Kemps! You spent all night fighting it!’ Ralf shook his head. It didn’t make sense. ‘You even gave us chocolate!’ Absurdly, this seemed like the worst betrayal of all.

‘And you were properly taken in, weren’t you?’ Keen gloated. ‘Misdirection, Wolf! It worked every time! The wailing at the Sedleys’, the blood in the Village Hall! I had you all looking one way, when each time the real action was happening somewhere else!’

‘The Muntons were working for you!’ Ralf cried. ‘You created the diversions so the Muntons could move Hart undisturbed!’

‘And all those ghastly pranks up at the house?’ Gloria asked. ‘The dead fish? Locking up poor Rufus like that? Reducing Mother to a nervous wreck! For what purpose? What could you possibly hope to gain from it?’

Keen’s face became serious and he looked at Ralf. ‘He knows.’

Ralf kept his eyes on Keen but explained as best he could. If
he kept Keen talking, maybe he’d give himself enough time to think of a way out of this. ‘Fear,’ he said. ‘The fox under the grate in the church. The strangled cat. The dolls on Hallowe’en. It was Keen all along. Ramping up the levels of Fear in the village to destabilise Time.’

‘Destabilise Time?’ Gloria’s face was a picture of confusion, but her colour still burned bright. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The more Fear there was, the more terrified people got, the more unstable Time became. All the ‘ghosts’, Gloria!’ Ralf exclaimed. ‘They’re not ghosts at all! They’re rips in the fabric of things. Falls. Openings where other times are leaking through to this one. He
wanted
to create them! He wants as many as possible. That’s why he’s got Hart.’ Ralf locked eyes with Keen who looked grudgingly impressed that Ralf seemed to have worked things out. ‘That’s why you kidnapped Hart isn’t it?’ Ralf asked. ‘You knew about his work with the Americans through Major Kingston-Hawke. And his role as Churchill’s double! Where are you going now, eh? To hand him over to the Nazis?’

‘Spot on, old chum,’ said Keen. He raised his gun and motioned for the swaying actor to step towards him. ‘Charlie and I have an appointment with a German agent on the Pont de Carnot in thirty minutes.’

Gloria could contain herself no longer. ‘Hand him over to the Germans! But why, Keen? What on earth’s possessed you?’

Keen laughed, a high unnatural sound. ‘
Possessed
me? What’s
possessed
me?’ He shook his head ruefully. ‘Oh, Gloria! You have no idea!’

And then he shot her.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The Shadow King

 

Time stood still. Not literally, of course, but Keen’s action had been so unexpected, so fast, that everything afterwards seemed impossibly slow by comparison. Ralf saw it all with razor sharp clarity. He saw the muzzle flash, white in the dark, and the blue smoke tinge the air. He smelt the whiff of cordite, and incredibly, from somewhere outside, heard Leo’s awful shout of warning and despair. A hot prickle of electricity needled his skin. His heart raced and blood pounded through his veins. His own cry came a millisecond later.

‘NOOOOO!’

In an instinct that emanated from his gut, from the very strands of his DNA, he thrust out his palms in a gesture of rage and denial. The Shun was not enough to stop the bullet mid-flight but it was sufficient to bend its course so as not to be fatal. Gloria fell backwards in to the water with an ‘Uff!’ of surprise and a rose of blood bloomed from her shoulder. Real time resumed with a bump.

‘He shot me!’ Gloria cried, indignantly. But when Ralf followed her stare, he saw ‘he’ was no longer there. Keen had grabbed Hart and forced him stumbling ahead, out on to the deck, the moment his shot had been fired.

Ralf splashed over to Gloria, tore a strip of sheet from the lower bunk and pressed it over her wound.

‘I’m alright!’ she gasped, though she winced when he helped her to her feet. ‘We have to stop him!’

‘We need to get out of here first,’ Ralf said. ‘Lean on me!’

They waded through the rapidly filling galley. Leaving Gloria at the base of the stairs, Ralf tentatively poked his head above deck. Gadd Munton, face bruised and bloody but otherwise in one piece, was struggling to his feet. Tank was huddled in the stern, shaking and making small whimpering noises. Keen was nowhere to be seen.

‘What’s going on?’ King shouted from his place at the wheel. ‘I heard a shot!’

Ralf guided Gloria up the steps but she needed less support than he thought. He smiled grimly. She was tough. There was no doubt about that.

‘Where’s Keen?’ he panted

‘Gone!’ King’s face was white. ‘I don’t know...One minute he was here...and then... He had someone with him... I don’t know... but it looked awfully like Charles Hart!’

Ralf scanned the deck. No sign of them. But if the Captain wasn’t on the boat, where was he? The realisation hit Ralf like a punch in the chest. Keen could Shift! And he was powerful enough to take Charles Hart with him!

‘Wolf?’ Leo’s anxious shout was faint across the water. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Gloria’s been shot!’ Ralf yelled back. ‘Bring bandages!’

A second later Alfie materialised next to them carrying
The Sara Luz
’s medical kit. He gave Ralf a withering look and took Gloria’s other arm. ‘And what does Leo know about gunshot wounds, eh?’ he asked, scathingly. ‘Come on, Gloria. Let’s get you sat down so I can have a butchers’.

King was so busy at the wheel, he hadn’t noticed Alfie’s arrival but Gloria seemed to take it in her stride.

‘I say, Alfie, you do know what you’re doing, I suppose?’ she asked quietly.

Alfie winked as he started to dress the wound. ‘Seen it done a couple of times. Let’s leave it at that, innit.’

The Sea-Hawke
lurched dangerously to port. Alfie swore and grabbed for the medical kit before it slid off the deck.

‘What should I do?’ King yelled. ‘She’s listing!’

Ralf looked round frantically. Bombs fell in clusters from the planes swirling overhead and all around gouts of water exploded from the sea. Panicked shouts and screams filled the air, punctuated by booming explosions. The mole was close, but manoeuvring alongside would be impossible with
The Sea-Hawke
at its current angle and time was running out

‘Ground her!’ Ralf shouted.

King looked horrified. ‘I can’t! We must … Father will…’

‘You have to, King!’ Ralf yelled. ‘She’s sinking! Run her aground on the mole!’

King gripped the wheel, gave a determined nod and thrust
The Sea-Hawke
into gear.

Amidst the madness of battle Ralf searched for signs of the Captain but he couldn’t see him anywhere. If they could get ashore, they could warn Swift, Ralf thought. The Major would send men to intercept Keen and Hart before they reached the rendezvous point.

A blast shuddered nearby and
The Sea-Hawke
rocked dangerously in the water, smoke pouring from her engine housing. Ralf dashed to help King and the boys hung desperately to the wheel, as they made the final few yards to the mole. Ralf shouted a warning and hung on. The others braced themselves too.
The Sea-Hawke
crunched into the mole and King was thrown violently against the cabin wall. Somehow Ralf kept his feet and turned the wheel so the vessel spun hard and lodged itself high on the rocks.

In the second of shocked stillness that followed, King gave voice to Ralf’s own confusion.

‘Right,’ said King, wiping blood away from his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘Would someone, please, tell me what’s going on?’

‘There’s no time, Ju!’ Gloria exclaimed. ‘We need to tell whoever’s in command up there that Keen’s a German Agent!’

King looked thunderstruck. ‘A German Agent! I say! Is he really?’

‘Yes!’ Ralf shouted over the racket of small arms fire. A large part of him wanted to go after Keen himself but he knew his first priority must be the Natus. ‘Someone has to warn Major Swift. Keen’s about to hand Charles Hart over to the Nazis!’

More bombs fell on the starboard side and they all instinctively ducked as they were drenched by the resulting wave. Ralf looked at Alfie bent down over Gloria by the rail and Gadd cowering uselessly by the hatch and did a quick calculation.

‘Julian, are you fit enough to go? Do you think you can make it?’

King folded his now blood soaked handkerchief deliberately. ‘Well, we can’t allow treachery, can we?’ he said in a maddeningly calm voice. He straightened his peaked cap, paused briefly by the still trembling Tank but quickly decided the large boy would be more of a hindrance than help and left him quivering where he was. He clambered down on to the rocks and set off along the mole at an unsteady jog.

Ralf watched him go then scrambled back to Alfie.

‘How is she?’

‘Not bad,’ Alfie declared as he tied a neat knot in a bandage. ‘She’ll have a well hard scar, I reckon, but the bullet went straight through. No bones broken.’

‘Small mercy, I suppose,’ she agreed. ‘But it hurts like Billy-o!’

She gave Alfie a thank you pat and eased her bad arm to rest in her lap then began rummaging in her mackintosh pockets with her free hand. ‘Gum anyone?’ Ralf shook his head and checked his watch.
It was eleven thirty-six.

A sharp wet-earth smell bloomed through the sea salt tang. A Fall shimmered into existence on the wharf and a company of Waffen SS burst out of it. Less than a minute later the Nazis had constructed a makeshift machine gun emplacement and the Fall had disappeared. The first bullets flew.

‘Take cover!’ Major Swift’s voice was loud and clear from the mole. ‘Where the devil did that swine come from?’

Gadd Munton crawled to the hatch on his belly and slithered eel-like below. Ralf and Alfie both threw themselves in front of Gloria. Long minutes followed in which no one knew quite what to do. There was a shout in German from the machine gun emplacement.

‘They’re aiming for the fishing boats!’ Seth yelled from
The Sara Luz
. A rapid rattle of shots rang out, spattering the sea. Someone screamed.

Trusting to luck, Ralf jumped to his feet and, eyes screwed shut, thrust out his palms towards the gun emplacement. His Shun hit the wave of bullets, bending their flight and they sliced into the water harmlessly. There was a moment’s pause then shots were returned with renewed ferocity.
The Sara Luz
was closer now and Ralf shouted wildly.

‘Shun them, Val
en!’

‘What in heavens name are you kids doing?’
Ron yelled incredulously ‘Get down you fools!’

But the Turnarounders ignored him. Stepping out from behind the mast, straining against the onslaught of the bullets, outstretched arms shaking with exertion, colour flaring angry crimson, Valen joined her Shuns with Ralf’s. Leo ran forward to shield Seth who was standing in the prow, shouting frantically across the water in German.

‘Achtung! Kinder! Kinder! There are children on board!’ he screamed. ‘Nicht Schießen! Don’t Shoot!

Ralf’s head spun. It was taking every ounce of energy to keep death at bay. The machine guns were firing in bursts and both Arbuckles were right in the line of fire. A second’s lapse in concentration might mean disaster.

In that instant Keen appeared. Half marching, half dragging Charles Hart, the Captain strode down a wooden pontoon at the harbour edge. Ralf squinted into the distance and saw his captive raise two freshly tied wrists in front of him. Keen pushed him roughly to his knees. Ralf gasped as Keen hit the helpless actor savagely across the scalp with his revolver. The Captain gesticulated wildly at the Nazi machine gun emplacement, pointed to
The Sea-Hawke
at the end of the mole and let forth a torrent of irate German.

‘Untermensch!’ Keen screamed his face contorted in rage, spit flying. ‘Feuer!’

Seth’s face lost all colour. He let out a howl of anger and disgust and Shunned at Keen with all his might. The Captain took a tiny step back but this small movement was the only sign that Seth was doing anything at all.

‘Enemy on the pontoon!’ Major Swift yelled. ‘Open Fire on that East Kents Captain!’

‘Thank heavens!’ breathed Gloria. ‘Jules must have made it through to Swift.’

A hail of bullets came from the British soldiers on the mole but Keen, with a lazy wave of his hand, Shunned them into the water. He laughed maniacally and held his arms wide as if inviting more fire.

That was the last straw for Gloria

‘Well
, that is just the giddy limit!’ she raged. ‘If only I was over there, I could scupper his plans in a second.’

Ralf’s mind was whirring. He knew Gloria had done
something
in the war but he hadn’t actually expected her to be useful.

‘What? What could you do?’ he shouted above the racket

‘I think that’s The Totenkopf Division,’ she said. ‘They’ll be armed with recoil-operated, air-cooled machine guns and –’

‘Quickly Gloria, please!’ he gasped, Shunning with all his might ‘This isn’t as easy as it looks, you know.’

‘Well the MG 34 is an efficient mobile firearm with a high rate of fire but they’re actually, quite simple to sabotage…’

Alfie was all ears. ‘Howja mean?’

‘Well, you’d need something to block the barrel, ball bearings maybe and something sticky, like glue or putty…’

Pulling a wad of chewing gum from his mouth and twirling it round his finger Alfie shot a questioning look at Ralf. Ralf hesitated for a second. Alfie pulled himself up to his full height then flicked his eyes to the machine gun emplacement and back again. Desperately hoping that he was making the right decision, Ralf nodded and Alfie disappeared into the smoke.

A deafening crump split the night and a column of flame shot into the sky as
The Griffin
’s fuel tank was hit. The boat, which had been fully loaded with soldiers, broke in half and those that could threw themselves desperately from the flaming vessel. Ralf scanned the water on which petrol now burned blue. The sea churned with bodies. Ralf's heart lurched. Where was Walter Sedley?

The air was hot with machine gun fire and smoke, acrid and blinding, stung Ralf’s eyes but he strained to see and hear in the confusion. Think, Ralf! Think! He cursed, running from one side of the boat to the other to try to catch sight of the young farmer. Through a momentary gap in the smoke Ralf saw
The Sara Luz
.


The Griffin
, Ron!’

‘Keep your head down Ralf! We’re almost there…’

But
The Sara Luz
was moving too slowly. Ralf couldn’t just wait and watch as men struggled and died in the water. He grabbed a lifebelt and was just about to dive overboard when Gloria spoke with a calm an alien authority Ralf could not ignore.

‘No, Ralf. That is for Tom, Ron, Old Bill and the others. Let them be! You have other things to do.’

‘But Walter!’ he cried. ‘He can’t be lost! He –’ He was unable to finish the thought aloud but in his head he screamed it.
He’s one of the Natus!

Gloria’s reached forward to grab Ralf’s wrist with her good hand. Her grip was steely. ‘Listen to me, Wolf!’ she urged. ‘How many men has Walter saved tonight? Dozens. Probably more. It’s Fate that they survived.
Their
Fate. And whatever should happen to Walter now is his. Wolf, do you hear me?’ she asked sternly. ‘How many lives might Alfie save? Might you? We must all do what we can. What we must! Accept your Fate. You can do nothing for Walter now!’

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