Chapter 17- Something in the Water
The surface of the lake was smooth as glass, mirroring the rocky cavern ceiling. Bryony stood on the shore, gazing at her reflection in the water. Her face looked pale and gaunt, her black eyes wide and empty.
She reckoned they must have been travelling for at least two days, although deep underground it was impossible to keep track of time. Their journey had taken them through a labyrinth of drainage tunnels, each one more dank and dingy than the rest, until they had arrived at this strange subterranean lagoon. It looked as though the drain must have collapsed at some time, forming a wide cavern that had filled with water.
“It isn’t stagnant,” observed Stubby, after licking a paw he’d just dipped into the lake. “So a supply of fresh water must flow in from somewhere.”
Bryony wasn’t listening. She’d spotted something else in the water besides her reflection. “My flip flop! It fell off when we crossed the ravine.”
“Then that explains how the lake is fed.” Stubby watched Bryony dip a hand in the water to retrieve her lost footwear. “That whirlpool you mentioned must convey the river into this cavern via an underground stream.”
“It’s freezing.” Wincing, Bryony thrust her arm deeper into the lake. The flip-flop was further down that it looked from the surface, and she had to sink the whole of her arm in to reach it.
Something moved in the water, close to her hand.
Bryony screamed, snatched her arm from the water, and staggered backwards.
“I saw something,” she gasped, in response to a puzzled look from Stubby. “Something moving in the water.”
“Highly unlikely,” decided Stubby. “There’s nothing growing down here, no plants or organic matter to sustain life in that pool. It was probably just your reflection, which would be enough to give anyone a start.” Stubby cast his gaze along the shore. “Now I wonder where that weasel has got to?”
Bryony was beginning to wonder that, too. It was ages since Slinker had gone off to look for a means of crossing the lake. And cross the lake they must, because there was no other route to the Pit. Or at least that’s what Slinker had told them.
He’d taken the supplies with him, and Bryony was feeling the urge for cardboard again. Even a nibble of a dried seed would be better than nothing. She was beginning to think that Slinker might have run off and left her down here to die a slow and lingering death…
A shrill whistle cut through her morbid meditations. It was Slinker, waving at them from behind a cluster of rocks.
Bryony clambered along the shore, and found Slinker standing next to a bundle of splintered twigs.
“I made this,” beamed Slinker, spreading his forearms as if expecting a round of applause. All he got from Bryony was a pair of raised eyebrows.
“It’s a raft,” clarified Slinker. “I found the twigs scattered about here, must have got washed down the drain.”
“It’ll never float,” said Stubby, reaching Bryony’s side and casting a similarly doubtful eye over Slinker’s efforts. “Looks as water tight as an air-conditioned colander.”
“You’ll see.” Slinker dragged the raft into the lake, and Bryony was as surprised as Stubby when the raft actually floated.
Although surprised, Stubby didn’t seem at all impressed. “That’s all very well. But can it carry passengers?”
“No problem.” Slinker jumped onto the raft, and beckoned to his spectators. “Care to join me for a pleasure cruise?”
Bryony and Stubby remained on the shore, swapping dubious glances.
“We’re wasting time,” said Slinker. “We need to cross the lake, and I for one don’t fancy swimming it.”
Whatever her doubts about Slinker’s makeshift vessel, Bryony knew it was the only viable option. And she certainly didn’t fancy swimming it either, especially after glimpsing that movement in the water. So without further hesitation, but taking care to keep her feet out of the freezing lake, Bryony clambered onto the raft. The lashed twigs bent and creaked beneath her, but the raft remained afloat.
Slinker aimed a triumphant grin at Stubby. “Come on, I’m sure it will take your weight as well.”
“Sure there’s enough room for your ego?” muttered Stubby, before leaping from the shore to the raft. Again the twigs bent, but the raft remained surprisingly buoyant. “I suppose I should be marginally impressed,” conceded Stubby. “But I don’t know how you intend to make the thing go anywhere. There’s no sail, no oars, no method of propulsion.”
“On the contrary,” said Slinker, using a leg to push the raft away from the shore. “This vessel comes equipped with a fully functioning outboard motor.”
Stubby stood at the end of the raft and peered over. “I don’t see a motor.”
Without warning, Slinker shoved the unsuspecting Stubby into the lake.
“Hey!” shrieked Bryony. “What are you playing at?”
Stubby splashed around in the water, and managed to grab the end of the raft. “Help me up,” he pleaded. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Then you need to splash about more to keep warm,” suggested Slinker, chuckling as he watched the floundering Stubby. “Move your little legs a bit more, that’s the idea.”
Bryony reached down to help Stubby, but Slinker pushed her back. “Leave him to it, he’s doing a great job.”
At first Bryony didn’t know what Slinker meant. And then she noticed the raft was moving, propelled by Stubby’s splashing legs. Stubby, it seemed, was the outboard motor.
“Clever, huh?” asked Slinker.
“Despicable,” said Bryony. “And it’s going to take ages to reach the other side.”
Slinker nodded. “Time to switch to turbo drive.” He leaned down and waved at Stubby. “You’re doing fine, little fella. Just try to keep your legs away from the sharks.”
“Sharks?” A plume of water gurgled from Stubby’s mouth. “There are sharks in the water?”
“Big ones,” said Slinker, before pointing over Stubby’s shoulder. “In fact, I can see one right behind you.”
Bryony looked, but couldn’t see anything in the water.
“He’s a whopper,” continued Slinker. “And he looks very interested in your ankles.”
Stubby screamed, and started splashing harder in an attempt to outpace the shark. “Don’t let him get me! Someone, help!”
Bryony still couldn’t see a shark. Then Slinker winked at her, and she realised.
“Now you have to admit that’s clever,” chuckled Slinker.
“Even more despicable,” said Bryony, but this time she couldn’t keep the curl of a smile from her lips. “But clever, too.”
Slinker grinned. “Look ’n’ learn, Your Ladyship. I’ll be asking questions later.”
“Oh, I get it.” Suddenly Stubby stopped splashing. “There’s no shark. It’s just some silly ruse to make me paddle faster.”
“There really is a shark,” said Bryony, trying to look frightened. “With a mouth this big.” She stretched her arms as wide as she could. “And teeth like razor blades. And he’s going to…”
Then Bryony spotted a shape in the water, just behind Stubby: a dark shape, with a beady eye that stared up at her from the murky depths.
“Stubby…” Not wanting to panic like some lily livered little girl, Bryony kept her voice calm. “There is something behind you.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Stubby was having none of it. “I think the joke’s worn a bit thin, don’t you?”
There was further movement to the right of Stubby, as a sleek black body broke the surface of the lake. And then to the left, where something long and scaly squirmed in the water.
“I see ‘em, ” whispered Slinker. “I don’t know what they are, but I doubt if they’ve come along to wish us bon voyage.”
“Are either of you going to help me onto the raft?” snapped Stubby, still unaware that he had company in the water. “Or do you intend to watch whilst I turn into the world’s first mouse flavoured ice lolly??
??
Bryony looked expectantly at Slinker. “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll never outrun them with little legs on the stern,” whispered Slinker. “So there’s only one thing for it.”
Bryony was going to ask what that one thing might be, when a shove in the stomach sent her sprawling into the lake.
There was a loud slap as she hit the water, but it was the shock of the jarring cold that knocked the breath from her lungs. And then she was under, and saw a dark shape with beady eyes coming straight towards her. Something splashed into the water beside her. Claws dug into her shoulder, and she was dragged to the surface.
Coughing and spluttering, Bryony blinked the water from her eyes to see a damp weasel’s face in front of her. “Grab the raft,” ordered Slinker, thrusting Bryony towards the floating bundle of twigs.
“Now what are you doing?” asked Stubby, as Bryony and Slinker took up positions either side of him. “Have you both gone mad?”
“The water looks lovely,” said Slinker, cheerily. “Thought we’d join you for a paddle. Now let’s get this thing moving. Everyone kick like crazy!”
Bryony’s muscles felt like they had frozen solid, but a glimpse of several black shapes closing in the water forced her rigid limbs into motion. Gripping the raft with both hands, she kicked her legs as hard as she could.
“We’re outpacing them,” gasped Slinker. “Keep it up!”
Bryony daren’t look behind her, and focussed all her efforts on keeping her legs pumping like pistons. With Slinker and a still confused Stubby doing likewise, the raft picked up speed. Soon they were travelling quite fast, and Bryony risked a backwards glance to see there was no sign of their pursuers.
“We’ve done it,” she spluttered. “They’ve given up the chase.”
“No time to relax,” warned Slinker. “Keep those legs moving, we’re not out of the water yet. Which is actually a good metaphor to have used in the current situation.”
Bryony realised she had stopped kicking, but the raft was still moving quite fast. In fact, it seemed to be getting faster. Perhaps it was because they’d built up momentum, but it felt more like the water was carrying them…
Slinker had noticed it too. “There’s a current. Looks like we’ve floated into some sort of river.”
Peering over the raft, Bryony saw they’d left the lake and had entered a narrow drainage tunnel. Suddenly her relief at escaping those creatures was replaced by a renewed dread. The water was surging fast through the drain; who knew where it would take them?
The current became stronger, flinging the raft left and right. Bryony clung on for dear life, struggling to keep her head above the foaming waters, and wondering how much of a battering their homemade craft could take; twigs were falling off, and it was losing buoyancy with alarming speed.
Suddenly the tunnel sloped steeply, and Bryony saw a rusted metal grille at the end of the drain.
“We won’t make it,” spluttered Stubby. “We’ll be smashed to smithereens when the raft hits that grille!”
“Grab my shoulders,” ordered Slinker. “Both of you.”
Bryony wondered what Slinker had in mind, and then saw a hole in the tunnel roof just above the grille.
“I said grab my shoulders,” repeated Slinker. “Quickly, we’ve only got seconds!”
Bryony let go of the raft, and would have been swept away by the current if Slinker hadn’t seized her right hand and clasped it to his shoulder.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” cried Stubby, hooking a paw around the weasel’s left forearm.
“You’ll just have to trust me,” yelled Slinker, hauling himself, Stubby and Bryony onto the edge of the raft. “Now hold on tight, kids.”
Bryony did as she was told, clinging to Slinker’s shoulder as the metal grille came rushing towards them…