‘I’m only going to take a look.’
‘You can’t go in there.’
‘I shan’t be long.’ Sam Johnson disappeared into the gap in the
boarded-up railway tunnel, despite the fact that it bore a large notice
saying DANGER – NO ENTRY.
Sam was unruly and over-inquisitive. Worse still, he was Andy’s
project partner for the field trip.
‘Come out,’ Andy hissed, not wanting to alert Mr Brownlow.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that he was down the end of the
abandoned platform, helping Fay Brown to draw the old railway
station clock which had stopped many years ago at ten minutes past
twelve.
Sam didn’t reply and Andy knew he would have to go in and get
him, which was the last thing he wanted to do. Not only would he be
exposing himself to danger but also to the past. The tunnel conjured
up a terrible memory to Andy which was why he had been dreading
coming on this school trip to Wenton Station.
He and his parents had discussed the day in some detail, but they
had all decided that he should face up to being near the place where
his Uncle Reg had died. His uncle had been found wandering
outside with head injuries, after the roof of the tunnel had caved in
during repair works which he was supervising. Several of the railway
workers had been trapped and killed, and although Reg Fuller had
died soon after from his injuries, there had been some nasty talk
about his failure to make any attempt to save his workmates. The
line had been closed shortly afterwards but this didn’t stop the
accident seeming like yesterday to Andy.
Now, to make matters worse, Sam had gone inside the tunnel.
Reluctantly, and checking that Mr Brownlow was looking the other
way, Andy went in search of him.
Inside all was grey gloom, though thin shafts of sunlight penetrated
the fallen roof here and there, picking out mounds of rock.
‘Sam!’
Andy’s voice echoed in the cathedral-like stillness as he stumbled
over more debris. Ferns were growing along the sides of the tunnel,
moss and lichen stained its walls and ivy trailed everywhere, binding
fallen brickwork in a deadly embrace.
‘Sam!’
But there was only an answering giggle and a scurrying of feet.
The idiot was playing cat and mouse with him. Didn’t he realize he
would soon be in big trouble with Mr Brownlow, or rather they both
would?
‘Don’t be such a fool,’ Andy snarled into the darkness. ‘Don’t you
realize how dangerous this place is?’
He stood and listened to the silence and then heard the
smothered giggle again. Didn’t Sam remember what had happened
in here?
He tried to dismiss these thoughts and waited, looking around
what was left of the high arched tunnel that had run through black
rock for half a mile. Andy shivered. Pallid streaks of damp on the
walls shone faintly in the occasional shaft of sunlight, and he could
see fungi growing in a corner. Something scuttled nearby and he
was sure the place was infested with rats.
‘For God’s sake, stop fooling around,’ he said irritably.
There was human scampering this time, followed by a heavy
clumping sound. Then, to Andy’s horror, he heard shale cascade,
followed by a couple of loud thuds and a strangled cry.
‘Sam?’
There was no reply. Was all this part of the joke? Then he heard a
grunt and a familiar voice gasped, ‘Help me!’
‘You OK?’
‘I think so. My foot’s stuck.’
‘You idiot,’ said Andy unfeelingly. ‘You complete, raving idiot. Do
you realize what kind of trouble we’re going to get into?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It won’t be long before Brownlow misses us. He’ll go crazy.’
‘I said I’m sorry,’ Sam whimpered. ‘Anyway, my foot hurts.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Over here.’
Andy trod the uneven surface; there was a sound of water
dripping that he hadn’t heard before.
‘Where?’
‘Here.’ Sam’s voice was petulant.
Andy suddenly stumbled over him and in the weak light saw that
Sam’s foot was caught under a moss-covered rock that felt
unpleasantly animal-like to the touch – as if a large green cat was
crouching menacingly over its victim.
‘Careful,’ hissed Sam. His voice quavered and Andy hesitated, his
eyes peering apprehensively into the gloom. His heart sank. Resting
on the rock was a mass of small boulders, piled up against the
tunnel wall. Above there was an overhang. It’s like a card castle,
Andy thought. Take away one and the rest come tumbling down.
Except the cards were incredibly heavy and could crush them both.
‘I – we need help,’ he whispered.
‘You’ve got to move that rock,’ replied Sam desperately. ‘It’s
hurting.’
‘If I do, the whole lot will come down, you prat. Can’t you see?’
Sam’s lower lip trembled and he turned his head away, not
wanting to see the danger.
‘Do it quick,’ he said. ‘Do something.’
‘I can’t,’ replied Andy, but he knew he was going to have to take
the risk. He heard a growling sound above him and realized how
knife-edge the situation was. If he went to get help there would be a
delay before the rescue services arrived. And during that delay …
Andy decided to take the risk.
With sudden determination he dragged at Sam’s foot, but it
wouldn’t budge and Sam howled with pain. Trying not to panic, Andy
pulled tentatively at the rock and it gave way, but immediately a hail
of smaller stones and boulders began to rain down on them. The low
growling intensified.
Andy looked up to see the slab moving, and then part of it cracked
and fell slowly towards them.
‘Look out!’
But there was nothing they could do as the rock bounced down,
breaking into smaller pieces, encasing Andy’s legs and trapping Sam
a second time. With the fall came thick dust which hung in the air, lit
by a sunbeam.
Andy didn’t feel any pain, just intense pressure and then renewed
panic. ‘You OK?’ he gasped, as the choking dust cleared slightly.
‘Can’t move.’
‘Does it hurt?’
‘Not yet,’ Sam replied despondently. ‘You shouldn’t have done
that. It was stupid to have moved that rock.’
Murderous thoughts passed through Andy’s mind. If only he could
get at him. ‘You told me to!’ he snapped.
‘But you shouldn’t have done it,’ he replied unreasonably.
‘Can you move?’ asked Andy with icy patience.
‘I told you I can’t.’
‘Try.’
There was a shuffling sound.
‘No – I can’t,’ came the sullen reply. ‘What are you going to do
now?’
‘We’ll be missed soon,’ said Andy, trying to be reassuring rather
than angry. It would do neither of them any good to argue. ‘Brownlow
will come looking for us.’
‘He’s thick,’ observed Sam.
‘Not that thick.’
‘Yeah?’
Andy had to admit that Sam had a point. Mr Brownlow wasn’t
exactly thick, but he was certainly indecisive and it might take him
some time to register their absence. He had brought a couple of
mothers as helpers, but they were only there to do as he told them,
not to take the initiative.
Andy tried to move again, but he was wedged in so tightly that as
he struggled one of his legs began to hurt quite badly. Was he
seriously injured? He felt a wave of panic and a cold sweat drenched
him.
He peered into the grey-green gloom, watching the ivy move high
up on the wall. Then he cried out in horror as something soft and
furry ran across his hand.
‘What’s up?’ asked Sam fearfully.
‘Nothing.’
‘What do you mean, nothing?’
‘Shut up and listen.’
Andy was sure he could hear movement in the tunnel.
*
‘Someone’s coming.’
‘Old Brownlow?’ Sam’s voice quavered again.
‘We’re over here,’ yelled Andy. ‘We got caught up in a rock fall.’
He expected to hear Mr Brownlow’s anxious voice in reply, but
there was nothing except for the footsteps which sounded oddly
uneven.
‘We’re over here.’
‘You lads all right?’
The voice sounded oddly distorted but he was sure it belonged to
Mr Brownlow.
So was Sam and he yelled, ‘We’re stuck. You’ve got to come
quickly, sir.’
‘It’s Reg Fuller, lads. Don’t worry. I’ll get you out.’
Andy froze. Was someone playing a sick joke?
‘Mr Brownlow,’ whispered Sam weakly.
‘I told you – it’s Reg Fuller.’ Their potential rescuer was breathing
heavily.
Uncle Reg was dead, thought Andy. He couldn’t be here – not
Uncle Reg.
They heard the sound of more rock being pulled aside, but neither
Andy nor Sam could see anyone – or feel any lightening of pressure.
Nevertheless, their rescuer seemed to be working hard, his efforts
broken by wheezing gasps and the occasional cry of pain.
‘We’re over here,’ yelled Sam.
‘All right, lads. I’ll get to you. I’ve got a bloke here that needs
attention.’
‘But there’s no one here but us.’ Sam was furious. ‘No one.’ Then
he asked in a wobbly voice, ‘Who are you?’
‘Hang on. I’ll be with you.’
The scrabbling and pushing and shoving and grinding of rock
against rock continued until Sam said suddenly, ‘Your Uncle Reg is
dead, isn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ replied Andy bleakly.
‘Then who’s that bloke?’
‘I don’t know’
‘It can’t be your Uncle Reg –’
‘No.’
‘Can it?’
Andy didn’t reply. He didn’t know what to think. The idea of
another joke faded from his mind. Only Sam played that kind of
game. So who was it out there?
He could still hear the rocks being cleared, still hear the
occasional cry of pain, but their rescuer wasn’t getting any nearer.
‘What’s going on?’ demanded Sam.
‘He’ll get to us.’
‘Who is he?’
‘I don’t know.’ But Andy was slowly getting the impression that
whoever was out there, shifting the debris and in such great pain,
was as much part of their world as the Man in the Moon.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Andy as Sam began to grunt and
groan.
‘Trying to get myself out,’ he panted.
‘You’ll only make it worse.’
‘I’ve got to try.’
‘He’ll get to us.’
‘Your uncle isn’t going to get to anyone,’ Sam said with conviction.
‘He’s dead and you know it.’
‘We’re over here!’ yelled Andy.
Then suddenly the voice was nearer, much nearer. ‘All right, lad.
Push on that rock there.’
The shadow was hovering over Sam and Andy could feel a blast
of cold, dank air.
‘Push!’ said the distorted voice.
Sam gasped, pulled and pushed and then gave a cry of
satisfaction. ‘I’m free,’ he whispered, and then bellowed, ‘I’m free!’
‘Keep your voice down, you idiot. You’ll bring more of the roof in.’
Sam looked up fearfully but the shadow had gone. Then he said,
‘My ankle’s painful and my leg’s bleeding. But I can stand.’
‘Aren’t you going to help me out then?’ Andy asked urgently,
wondering where his uncle had gone.
‘Maybe I should go and get help,’ said Sam indecisively.
‘And leave me here?’ Andy was outraged.
‘OK.’ Sam sounded slightly doubtful, and when he arrived at his
side he sounded even more so. ‘I’ll never shift this lot,’ he said
morosely.
‘Try,’ Andy commanded. ‘Try hard.’
Sam was strongly built but had run to fat, and unless he was
curious about something he easily gave up. As far as Andy could
see he himself was trapped by two large rocks, one over his waist
and the other wedged across but not crushing his ankles. Sam
strained hard while Andy encouraged him.
‘All right, lads, I’m coming,’ came Uncle Reg’s voice, but he
seemed a long way away now, despite the sounds of frantic activity,
as if he had moved on to other victims.
But there weren’t any there, thought Andy. At least not this time.
What is going on? he wondered. But any thoughts of someone
playing a joke had long since faded from his mind. There was only
one idiot in this tunnel and that was Sam – and he was a lazy one as
well.
‘Push,’ he hissed at him.
‘I am.’
‘Then push harder.’
‘I’m frightened of hurting you,’ gasped Sam. ‘Get stuck in,’
shouted Andy, forgetting his own warnings about a roof fall. ‘Go on –
you slob.’
‘I’m not going to –’
‘Push!’
With a last effort, Sam did as he was told and the rock fell away
with a dull thud.
‘Now go for the one across my ankles – and be careful. There’s
another rock resting against the side of it.’
‘Can’t you pull yourself out?’
‘I wouldn’t be asking you if I could,’ snapped Andy bitterly.
Sam continued to wrestle with the rock until it slowly moved
sideways and Andy was free. It was an incredible sensation and he
felt heady with relief and elation.
‘Can you stand?’ asked Sam solicitously.
Andy struggled painfully to his feet. ‘Kind of – I feel as if I’m
bruised all over.’
‘At least we’re alive.’
‘No thanks to you,’ said Andy sharply.
‘I’ll tell Brownlow it was my fault,’ said Sam with surprising grace.
‘That you just came in to help.’
‘You will?’ Andy stared at him in amazement.
‘I promise.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I was stupid.’
‘You were dead stupid. Well, almost.’
‘All right, lads.’ Uncle Reg’s voice was weaker, more distant, and
he coughed in a horrible, bubbling sort of way.
‘We’re OK now,’ yelled Andy and then remembered about the
roof. ‘We got free,’ he said more quietly. Then he spoke slowly,
deliberately. ‘Is that really you, Uncle Reg? Is it you out there?’
But although they could still hear the sound of rocks being shifted
there was no reply.
‘Uncle Reg?’ whispered Andy, his voice breaking. ‘Uncle Reg?’
Sam touched his arm. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.
‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘But you heard him, didn’t you? You heard his voice –’
‘I heard him.’ The roles had reversed and Sam was very much in
charge now. ‘Come on, Andy. We’ve got to get out fast.’
Limping, they clambered over the piles of rocks towards the band
of light at the entrance to the tunnel.
Then Andy found himself in a grip of iron as Sam grabbed his
arm. ‘Look.’
‘Where?’
‘Behind you.’
Sam was staring at something, someone, and when Andy
wheeled round he saw his Uncle Reg, only metres away from them,
cut and bleeding, obviously badly injured but nevertheless trying
single-handedly to pull the rock fall aside. Trapped beneath it, Andy
could just make out the body of a man.
‘We’ve got to help him.’
‘No,’ said Sam.
But already Andy had plunged back, stumbling over the debris
towards his Uncle Reg.
‘I’ll help you,’ he panted. ‘I’m coming to help you.’ Then he
gasped.
He had run right through him.
‘He’s not there,’ he muttered, drawing back.
‘He is,’ said Sam quietly. ‘But he’s not with us.’
‘What are you two boys doing in here? You’re going to be severely
punished for this –’ Mr Brownlow was standing on the threshold of
the tunnel.
But Andy didn’t care what happened now. He felt a rush of pride.
There was no doubt now. His uncle had stayed to the last, trying to
rescue his workmates.
‘Did Andy ever go back in there?’ asked Terry.
‘No,’ said Tim. ‘He never went back. And since then, the tunnel’s
been pulled down.’
‘Stoke up that fire, someone,’ insisted Martin, and Jane managed
to get the wood to crackle again.
‘My cousin met someone else who was trapped in the past,’ said
Terry. ‘It was awful. Do you want to hear the story?’
The others nodded fearfully, snuggling back into their sleeping
bags, wanting yet not wanting to listen.
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