Forty minutes later the sun was rising and Mrs Thresher came out with sandwiches and tea for them all. She didn’t speak to them and Ben thought she tried to avoid looking at them as much as possible. He ate what he could but found that most of his stomach was knotted and uncomfortable. The Tower looked huge, imposing and impossible to imagine. It had to be two-hundred metres across and six towers prodded the sky.
After breakfast they were joined on deck by Joel, Martin and Alexander who were also coming across with them. Mrs Thresher, Kris and Anthony appeared shortly afterwards.
They checked their weapons, such as they were, and found them the best that could be hoped for under the circumstances. The plan was to get to the Waterloo Barracks as quickly as possible so they could get more and better weapons. After that they could more comfortably begin shuttling them back to the Robinson Crusoe.
“There shouldn’t be any trouble,” said Aaron. Perhaps it was the way he said it or the fact that he had said it twenty times in the last hour but Ben found he didn’t quite believe it. He had never gotten the full story of Aaron and Anthony’s miraculous escape from the tower but he suspected they had run when they should have walked. Not that he blamed them for it but he thought it had more than a little to do with why they were now so keen to save Sanctuary.
More tea was provided. They were reluctant to go. Mrs Thresher clung tightly to her husband and Kris never left Martin’s side. Ben had a feeling that she wouldn’t be returning to Sanctuary with them when this was over.
“Fuck this,” said Daniel, slamming down his cup so that it cracked on the roof of the boat. They all turned to look at him. “Lets saddle up and get this show on the road.”
They said their goodbyes and uttered meaningless assurances that they wouldn’t be gone for very long. How could any of them know that? They would be back with the first load of weapons in an hour and expected tea and sandwiches waiting. Once again Aaron assured them that there wouldn’t be any trouble, that the place was probably empty, and then they were gone.
The water was cold. They waded through it to get to the beach. Ben could feel it climbing up his trouser legs as he struggled towards the wall. Aaron took the lead, this was his show now, Daniel was directly behind him with his gun drawn, the Thresher boys hung together and Ben brought up the rear.
All he could hear was the slurping sound of the mud beneath him and the water being pushed aside to let them through. The Tower seemed impossibly far away and the icy cold water made his ankle hurt like a tooth ache. It seemed as if they would never reach the beach but they did. It sloped slightly upwards and before he knew it they were at the wall.
They paused and turned back to look at the boat. It looked like a speck on the water. Three figures stood on the deck watching them. They waved to show that they had made it alright and received waves in return. One of the figures turned away and went back inside, they took this as their cue to move again.
They made their was along the beach to the Queen’s Stairs. Rusted orange, when the tide was up they would be beneath the water. They had not been maintained for more than twenty years and gave way easily when Joel and Daniel put their weight behind them. They climbed in single file, stopping every twenty steps or so to listen but they didn’t hear anything. Ben brought up the rear again and then they made their way along the wall to Traitor’s Gate.
The gate was open. It was through here that Aaron and Anthony had made their escape some twenty years ago and it was easy to believe that no one had passed through it since. The floor was covered with about a foot of green water that seemed to want to drag them down. Then they were at the stairs and climbing into the tower.
13
It smelled rancid. Ben had to hold his breath for long seconds as they passed along echoing stone corridors. He expected to find piles of rotting bodies around every corner but it did not occur to him that after twenty-years even a dead body would stop stinking.
They used hand signals to communicate because, although Aaron had assured them that it was safe, you couldn’t be too careful. There was no sound other than themselves.
None of the doors were locked and they began to relax. It was just as they had hoped it would be. They walked outside and Ben took in great lung full’s of fresh air before they went back inside again, found the nearest door and came out in the courtyard.
There were more buildings, surrounded by the high walls and towers. It was strange, like being inside but outside. A white tower dominated the space and Ben failed to notice that the lawn was short, so short that it had probably been cut in the last week.
Aaron led them on. The Waterloo Barracks stood directly in front of them, a miniature castle where the soldiers had lived during those last eventful days. Ben wondered if there was a room inside that still contained Aaron’s things, left scattered across the floor as he rushed to leave. There would probably be a similar room for Anthony.
“Okay then,” said Aaron, “this is it.”
Ben checked his gun for the hundredth time; it was still loaded, the safety was still off. He looked around and saw the others doing the same. The sun was already bright and he had to squint to see anything clearly. That seemed like a good sign, there wouldn’t be vamps anywhere but underground on a day like this.
They approached the door slowly. To the left of it an old wooden guard box rotted in the heat. Inside the smell was atrocious.
They coughed and tried to cover their mouths. Flies filled the air, buzzing around their faces. It was warm and moist but they forgot all about their discomfort when they heard movement.
A chair or a table, some heavy piece of furniture scraped across the floor. Ben peered into the darkness but couldn’t even make out shapes. He heard five guns being checked and did the same. He held it in front of him and tried to remain calm.
Shapes began to form in the darkness as his eyes adjusted. They were people shapes but that didn’t mean anything now. Then he heard the low moan and he remembered the vamps gone wrong. They moved slowly forwards, shuffling across the floor, but one of them walked upright and appeared in the shafts of daylight before them all.
A man, maybe fifty years old. His hair was long and white and tied back in a tight ponytail. He wore a military uniform with medals pinned to the chest. His skin was a healthy brown but his eyes were wide and wild. They raised their guns, aiming for his head.
The man held up his hands as if this sort of thing happened every day. “Friendly,” he said. His voice was old and broken. “I’m a friend.”
“Who are you?” said Daniel in a typically aggressive tone.
The old man looked at them and when he saw Aaron his face cracked into something that might have been a smile. Ben noticed that the other figures had receded into the dark. “Why don’t you ask your friend, Captain Wednesday.”
He was talking about Aaron but none of them turned to look at him. “It’s just Aaron now,” said his voice in the dark. Ben waited to hear him lower his gun but he didn’t, so he kept his raised.
“What are you doing here Gabriel?” said Aaron.
“That’s Sergeant Arket to you,” said the man.
“You promoted yourself then?” said Aaron, his tone mocking. There didn’t seem any harm in it, they were the ones with the weapons.
“The King promoted me,” he said.
“The King?” said Aaron, sounding unsure of himself. “What King?”
“Why our beloved King Charles the third,” said Gabriel, the pride evident.
“Impossible,” said Aaron. “He’s dead.”