Chapter 8

Read from the start here: Chapter One


The morning air was crisp, with not so much as a breeze to disturb it. Yet gliding effortlessly through the sky as it was born to do was a wispy, eggshell tinted bird who skimmed over the rooftops around Grazen Market, looking for a place to rest. The creature was a rare sight. Avian species had always been on the very edge of extinction, long before such information had been recorded and there were people who had born and died a lifetime later who had never even sighted one. Such was the intricate and natural beauty of them, it was a tragic thought, yet this little bird continued on, unobserved, as it soared across the horizon, way above the inhabitants of Calcon who continued about their routine lives on the ground.


As it approached a gravelled surface atop a particular building, the bird swooped low and bore right to avoid a small, local transformer; a stout, metal pylon that channelled the natural magical energy flowing in the atmosphere, to a usable form that generated power. In doing so however, the bird had unknowingly steered itself right into an unseen wall, knocking the innocent thing unconscious. The graceful creature bounced off the invisible seal and onto the gravel covered roof of the Rusty Tower, the scene of an earlier crime.


At the exact moment of impact, two miles away an out of breath Dane unlocked a second gate from within the tunnels and emerged from the squalid darkness, finding himself blinded by the unexpectedly brilliant sunlight. He raised his free arm to shield his eyes, and slowly began to take stock of where he was.


A dilapidated building formed in front of him, that stood barely held together by the few pieces of timber and slate that still clung to the naked frame. Part of Dane’s duty as the Den leader was to maintain their secrecy, and a falling down building that had already attracted the attentions of greedy, opportunist building developers was a major concern of his. He knew that this ramshackle habitat wouldn’t last long, and the only obstacle that had given him any ounce of breathing room had been a stubborn, traditional councillor who had decreed the site as a place of heritage. For what though, the group had never cared enough to learn.


Nevertheless, nothing could be further from his mind right now than how best to keep the Den hidden. His priority was in finding his daughter and making sure she was safe and despite Dane’s hatred of the man, Cam had inarguably come close to succeeding with his plan. It wouldn’t take him long to work out that not all had gone as expected, however, Dane had a head start and that was all he would need.


Slowly the shape of the room began to materialise and as his pupils adjusted, he realised he was in what once was the basement, except now there was very little roof above him so it appeared more like an empty indoor pool. A set of stairs stood opposite him, still intact but with a waxen tone that had been a result of the peeling paint and cheap wood that they had been built with. With a heavy case and thus only one free hand, he would only end up falling through them and so the only potential ascent would be from a deeply rooted vegetation growth that rose up from the basement to the first floor.


Heaving it as high as he could into the air, the encased rifle sailed up in a heavy arc and landed with a dull thud on the next level, settling down without smashing back through the floor. ‘Success’ He thought. Next, Dane took a hold of one of the thickest bundle of roots and tugged at it. A few granules of earth loosened and fell to his feet, while the sound of the vines tightening greeted his ears. No tearing, no loosening and no sounds to indicate the building falling down around him followed it. Dane had found his way up.


Using both of his now empty hands, he gripped tightly onto the wall and heaved himself skywards. Slowly but surely, he pulled his way up the uneven surface, careful not to misplace his hands and always testing the next move before committing to it. The overgrowth had truly embedded itself into the structure, and it set Dane thinking how long it had been since he’d been here last.


The house definitely had a roof then, and while windows and furniture were still long gone, his last footsteps down the stairs he had avoided earlier were at the very least sturdy and safe. The memories suddenly enveloped him and he found he had transported himself back to the day when he and his predecessor, Linden, had walked through here.


It was an autumn afternoon, the trees around the building had started losing their emerald covering and the ground was overlaid with a crunchy bronze carpet. Linden was an old croak of a man, as short as his young self at only sixteen years of age but with a full head of greying hair and a methodical look in his eyes. They had already met on several occasions, but this was the first time that Dane had been led somewhere of the old guy’s choosing. Even though Dane hadn’t really suspected Linden of any malice, he was still very wary.


“This house has a history y’know.” He spoke in his local drawl, particularly emphasised on the last word. The elderly man ran his wrinkled hand along the nearby windowsill and brought it up to his eyes, studying the dust he had gathered. “I’m sure one day in the near future I’ll tell you all about-“


“Why am I here?” Dane interjected, becoming increasingly nervous of the old mans’ intentions. “Will you give me some food or am I going to have to call the Owsla on your ass?”


“You and I both know you ain’t going to call them Owsla.” Linden reached around and clipped young Dane round the head, to which Dane automatically leapt back and smacked into a collapsing bookshelf knocking a book to the floor. “And don’t speak to your elders like that, ya rude and ig’nant boy!”


Dane held his tongue. Linden continued to look out of the window.


“Are we here then?” Dane asked, calmly and politely this time. “Is this where you wanted to show me?”


“You need to trust me son, or else you’ll never be able to accept the rewards I can offer.”


“What rewards?” His tone was inquisitive.


“A fulfilling lifestyle for one.”


“I have one of those.” Dane retorted.


“Don’t you be lyin’ now. You and I have had enough such run ins that I know that ain’t true.”


Dane didn’t know what to say. The old man was right.


“Come along now. I want to show you something.” Linden turned away from the window and made his way to the downwards staircase, making his way cautiously down the steps.


“I don’t think I should. I want to go back... I want to go.”


“Then go along.” Linden let the words hang in the air for a moment. “But believe you me, at some point in your life you’re gonna have to put your trust in somebody. Ain’t no life worth living if all you got to trust is yourself.”


Both of them stood there, fixed in the same spots, for a good thirty seconds or so. The only sound to be heard was the breeze wafting the piles of dead leaves around the garden and the distant chatter of everyday life beyond it. It was Dane that eventually broke the silence.


“How do I know that I can trust you?”


“You can’t. And if you want to waste your time working out why or why not, it’ll be too late. So, you comin’ or what?”


A nod was his response, and gripping the knife that was stealthily tucked into his belt loop on his rear, Dane followed Linden down into the dank basement.


Meanwhile, in the present, Dane had just about climbed his way back out of the very same place. Beside him, about a metre away, was all that remained of the ground floor. As he pulled himself onto it, he noticed the beams that ran along the entire length of the room appeared weak, with cracks running throughout them and a couple already fully split.


Even before he had time to brush the debris off his clammy hands, something captured his immediate attention. The next few seconds were a blur; a loud snap suddenly filled the room and through instinct Dane immediately reached for the briefcase. As he took a step forward to do so, he realised his balance was off which led to him mis-stepping and completely fumbling the pickup. The wall to his right had begun to tilt inwards, as if about to cave in on itself, but apparently short of actually doing so.


The case began to slide towards the basement and Dane knew if that were to happen, he would never see it again. Knowing this, Dane steadied himself and threw himself towards it, hoping to land on top of the heavy case and by some miracle avoid going straight through the rotting floorboards and end up entombed here.


Landing right on the pit of his stomach, both man and object careened closer to the edge in a frenzied bundle, meanwhile one of the support beams somewhere underneath had now fully broken off and a huge chunk of the remaining floor fell into the darkness below. The wall groaned again.


Using all the strength he had, Dane dug his boots and the palms of his hands to grasp any friction he could in order to prevent himself from further sliding across, and as the muscles in his legs began to pinch from the enormous pressure being imposed upon them, they did their job and somehow brought him to a halt.


‘It’ll only be a temporary lull’ Dane suspected. The whole place started to grumble and moan and a brick shot down from above and missed his head by an inch, going straight through and into the basement. Loosening the grip of his feet, Dane now pushed himself back up with his arms towards the corner of the floorspace, which had lost approximately one third of whatever was there to begin with. Still careful not to lose grip through his feet, he cautiously but hastily shimmied back into the corner, and slunk up the wall to a standing position. Another chunk of wall or roof crashed nearby, and from somewhere nearby he could make out more groaning, this time with the tinkling of shards of glass from a broken window pane.


Dane was trapped. To his right, the path to the front door was blocked by a bulging wall that would give way at any point, and to his left, the path led to nothing except the pit and the gate below. The decision to risk going back through the tunnels crossed his mind, but with the closest alternative exit at least five minutes out and the risk of running into one of the Nomags a clear and present possibility, it was quickly discarded.


“Fuck this.” Dane yelled in an aggressive manner. He picked up the case from beside his feet and, without even hesitating, swung it round to his side and ploughed it straight into the heart of the weakening wall behind him. Without stopping to breathe, he instantly brought it back round to his shoulder side and swung it round again, smashing it into the same spot on the damaged brickwork. He did this again and again, repeatedly hammering it at the same spot with an anger now permeating through his expression as well as the roars he made each time it hit the wall.


To his relief of his aching shoulder, the sixth time it made impact the wall give way and the briefcase went straight through the newly formed hole. It still wasn’t big enough for his body to get through, so immediately he started tearing away the rotting bricks from each side of it with his bare hands, tossing them aside, all the while dreading the imminent collapsing of the entire building. It was a matter of precious seconds before he had ripped apart an escape route he could make it through and straight away he plunged himself right into it in an almost panicky fashion.


Squeezing himself out into the bright sunlight of the garden, Dane felt every part of him brush hard against the solid walls as he contorted himself into the gap, but it was only a few seconds before he was out, landing on his posterior. He wasted no time, and dug his heels into the grass desperately scrambling to push himself as far away from the death-trap as he could before it imploded. With no time to spare, he had made it out.


If he hadn’t been so relieved and full of adrenaline at saving his own skin, he might have enjoyed the truly incredulous sight of a two storey building sink almost perfectly into its own grave, finally resting with its own roof tiles scattered atop the dusty mound of brick and mortar that remained. Several thunderous booms made their way into the neighbouring districts and if anybody hadn’t noticed all the commotion before, they would certainly be about to now.


Taking no time to appreciate his own lucky escape, Dane leapt up and quickly started to brush off all the debris off himself and wipe the sweat off his brow. After finding a small patch of leafy weeds, he tore himself a handful and used them to clean off the dust from his jacket and shoes before discarding them to reclaim the metal case and quickly walk himself to the nearby street.


As expected, a few residents were in awe at the scene, crowding near the property’s entrance pathway, and pointing and chatting amongst themselves. Dane, who had already vaulted over the fence next door by this time, stepped quietly out towards the crowd, purposefully avoiding any eye contact with the strangers looking nearby. Instead, he chose to play the part of another shocked civilian, stepping towards the crowd with his back turned and with one hand clasped to his forehead in awe. As he took steps towards the edge of the crowd, he wondered if any of them had even questioned his entrance to the scene from the neighbours garden but in actual he fact he couldn’t care less. They would never see his face, and they would never catch him. He could elude the Owsla after a lockdown, he would damn well get away with this.


Tucking the briefcase as close to his side as he could, he shuffled quietly to the back of the crowd, turned around and made his way towards the only place he hoped could help him find his daughter; Golden Green hospital.


Next Chapter: CHAPTER NINE