onto his back.
Rather than travelling on top of the truck, he wished it had simply run straight over him. Every muscle in his body ached from the tension of the day’s journey. It seemed like an eternity ago that he had leapt from the side of the metrotower onto the airship.
He closed his eyes.
I’ll just rest for a minute, he decided.
Just a minute.
Just a…
Chapter Fourteen
Jack awoke in gloomy darkness.
He found himself staring up at a stone ceiling. He woke from a dream where he had been buried alive and so he hit hard at the stonework, thinking he lay within a coffin many feet under the earth. The impact of his hand against the cold surface brought him back to reality.
Of course, he remembered. The airship. The truck. The island.
He lifted his head slightly. Only about a foot lay between him and the roof, a godsend, really, because the unlikely hiding place had kept him safe. He rolled over. His body felt stiff, but the total exhaustion that had plagued him the previous day had evaporated.
A sudden panic seized him. He had slept for who knows how long and in the meantime anything could have happened to Scarlet Bell and Jon Harker. He had to find and rescue them.
Jack almost laughed out loud.
He was only a kid. How could he hope to rescue Scarlet and Mr Harker? Still, he had come this far. Not everyone could have done that. Now was not the time to doubt his abilities. All he had to do was find them and get out of here.
Wherever ‘here’ happens to be , he thought.
Listening hard, Jack realised he could not make out a single sound. Good. The occupants of this building were obviously located some distance away from here. He slid around until his legs dangled over the front of the vehicle. He stepped down onto the bonnet and then onto the floor.
He swooned and grabbed the vehicle for support. For the first time in twenty–four hours he stood on solid dry land. Taking a hesitant step he found he could walk.
His thoughts about the chamber around him were correct. It seemed to be some sort of storeroom, packed with boxes and containers. He lifted a tarpaulin and beneath lay some sort of drums. They smelled of oil. Jack made his way to the door, looked down the corridor and saw a long, thin tunnel leading away from him, lit intermittently by oil lamps.
Looking back into the room, he wished he had a weapon, but nothing looked usable. Clenching his jaw, he decided to continue without one. He had only one thing on his side – the element of surprise. The kidnappers had no idea they had been followed. He wanted to keep it that way.
He continued along the tunnel. Walking as quietly as possible, his footsteps still seemed to echo as loudly as if he were walking across a tin roof. The tunnel seemed to go on forever. He wondered where it led. Probably the castle he had spotted from the water.
Finally he reached a wooden doorway, set into the stonework. If the door were locked from the other side, then he would have to give up, but if it were unlocked…
He gripped the ancient handle and turned it. Nothing happened. Then it gave a rusty squeak and he found he could pull the door towards him. He looked out into another stone corridor.
Empty.
He entered. A steep, winding staircase lay at the far end of the room.
As Jack climbed the stairs he listened for sounds from within the building. Distantly, he thought he heard the sound of voices, but the sound was so muffled it was impossible to tell. The ascent seemed to take forever. Finally he reached the top. The stairs met another corridor.
Jack peered in both directions. Nothing moved in the corridor, but now natural light penetrated a number of windows. He had finally reached ground level. The building looked very old. Probably medieval. The structure was clean, dry and cold. He had been in a few other similar buildings with his parents over the years.
He tiptoed to his left. Windows looked out onto an open courtyard. Two men walked purposefully across
Rather than travelling on top of the truck, he wished it had simply run straight over him. Every muscle in his body ached from the tension of the day’s journey. It seemed like an eternity ago that he had leapt from the side of the metrotower onto the airship.
He closed his eyes.
I’ll just rest for a minute, he decided.
Just a minute.
Just a…
Chapter Fourteen
Jack awoke in gloomy darkness.
He found himself staring up at a stone ceiling. He woke from a dream where he had been buried alive and so he hit hard at the stonework, thinking he lay within a coffin many feet under the earth. The impact of his hand against the cold surface brought him back to reality.
Of course, he remembered. The airship. The truck. The island.
He lifted his head slightly. Only about a foot lay between him and the roof, a godsend, really, because the unlikely hiding place had kept him safe. He rolled over. His body felt stiff, but the total exhaustion that had plagued him the previous day had evaporated.
A sudden panic seized him. He had slept for who knows how long and in the meantime anything could have happened to Scarlet Bell and Jon Harker. He had to find and rescue them.
Jack almost laughed out loud.
He was only a kid. How could he hope to rescue Scarlet and Mr Harker? Still, he had come this far. Not everyone could have done that. Now was not the time to doubt his abilities. All he had to do was find them and get out of here.
Wherever ‘here’ happens to be , he thought.
Listening hard, Jack realised he could not make out a single sound. Good. The occupants of this building were obviously located some distance away from here. He slid around until his legs dangled over the front of the vehicle. He stepped down onto the bonnet and then onto the floor.
He swooned and grabbed the vehicle for support. For the first time in twenty–four hours he stood on solid dry land. Taking a hesitant step he found he could walk.
His thoughts about the chamber around him were correct. It seemed to be some sort of storeroom, packed with boxes and containers. He lifted a tarpaulin and beneath lay some sort of drums. They smelled of oil. Jack made his way to the door, looked down the corridor and saw a long, thin tunnel leading away from him, lit intermittently by oil lamps.
Looking back into the room, he wished he had a weapon, but nothing looked usable. Clenching his jaw, he decided to continue without one. He had only one thing on his side – the element of surprise. The kidnappers had no idea they had been followed. He wanted to keep it that way.
He continued along the tunnel. Walking as quietly as possible, his footsteps still seemed to echo as loudly as if he were walking across a tin roof. The tunnel seemed to go on forever. He wondered where it led. Probably the castle he had spotted from the water.
Finally he reached a wooden doorway, set into the stonework. If the door were locked from the other side, then he would have to give up, but if it were unlocked…
He gripped the ancient handle and turned it. Nothing happened. Then it gave a rusty squeak and he found he could pull the door towards him. He looked out into another stone corridor.
Empty.
He entered. A steep, winding staircase lay at the far end of the room.
As Jack climbed the stairs he listened for sounds from within the building. Distantly, he thought he heard the sound of voices, but the sound was so muffled it was impossible to tell. The ascent seemed to take forever. Finally he reached the top. The stairs met another corridor.
Jack peered in both directions. Nothing moved in the corridor, but now natural light penetrated a number of windows. He had finally reached ground level. The building looked very old. Probably medieval. The structure was clean, dry and cold. He had been in a few other similar buildings with his parents over the years.
He tiptoed to his left. Windows looked out onto an open courtyard. Two men walked purposefully across
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