Volumes 5 and 6 - Blood Beast/Demon Apocalypse. Darren Shan
“I’m not sure,” I mutter. If we were alone, I’d tell Bill-E about my fears—that this place is part of the world of magic. I’m sure he’d take more notice of my warnings then. But I can’t speak about such matters in front of Loch. “Why don’t we leave it for today. It’s getting late. Let’s go home and sleep on it.”
“Not yet,” Bill-E pleads. “Give it until dusk, like we planned. Since we’re here, we might as well make the most of the daylight.”
“Spleenio’s right,” Loch says. Now that the influence of the hole has passed, he’s his old self again, intent on getting his hands on the treasure, quickly forgetting his fears. “Let’s do what we came to, then go home and relax. It might be weeks before we dig all the way to the bottom. We can’t get cold feet every time we run into an obstacle.”
I don’t like it but their minds are set, so after a brief rest, we up tools and edge down the hole again.
→We remove one of the biggest rocks yet and haul it to the top. Standing by the edge of the hole. Sweating, shaking, flexing our fingers. “This is torture,” Loch groans.
“Think the treasure will be worth it?” I ask.
“It better be.”
“What if there’s nothing there, if it’s just a hole?”
Loch smiles. “It isn’t. We’re on to something big. I can feel it in my bones.”
“You’re just feeling what you want to feel.”
Loch scowls. “Stop being such a –”
Bill-E screams.
Loch and I bolt down the hole. We find Bill-E submerged in earth to his waist, clinging to the rocks around him, face bright with terror. “There’s nothing underneath!” he shouts. “My legs are dangling! I’m going to fall! I’m going to fall! I’m going to –”
I grab his right hand. Loch grabs his left.
“We won’t drop you!” I yell.
“Not unless you give us reason to,” Loch jokes.
“I was digging,” Bill-E gasps, fingernails gouging my flesh. “Rooting up stones. The floor gave way. My shovel fell. I heard it clanging all the way down—a long way. I thought… I dropped this far… I managed to grab the edge. If I hadn’t…” He starts to cry.
“Look at the chubster,” Loch howls with delight. “Booing like a baba!”
“Can’t you shut up just once in your stupid bloody life!” I roar—then catch myself. “The chemicals,” I hiss. “Loch… Bill-E… take it easy. No outbursts. No insults. Relax. Think nice thoughts. Tell me when you feel normal.”
“How can I be normal when I’m stuck down a –” Bill-E shrieks.
“Nice thoughts,” I interrupt sternly, sensing the throbbing again, coming from the rocks around us. “Loch—you thinking nice things?”
“Yeah,” Loch grins. “I’m imagining the baby’s howls if we let him drop.”
“Loch!”
“OK,” he grouches and shuts his eyes. After a few seconds his expression clears, he opens his eyes and nods to show he’s in control. Bill-E’s less composed, but that’s understandable given the situation he’s in.
“You need to talk to us,” I tell him. “We’re going to pull you out but we don’t want to hurt you. Are there any stones jabbing you, sticks, wire… anything that might cut into you if we pull you up quickly?”
“I don’t think so,” Bill-E sobs. “But it’s hard to tell. I don’t know.”
“Relax,” I soothe. “You’re safe. We have you. Now concentrate and let us know how we can help you out of this mess with the least amount of discomfort.”
Bill-E focuses and moves slightly, exploring the unseen territory around his legs. Finally he gulps and says, “I think it’s safe to pull.”
“Great.” I smile falsely. “Loch—you ready?” He grunts. “We’ll take it easy to begin with. Act on my command. Pull softly when I say. Stop if I give the order. Understand?”
“Whatever,” he shrugs.
I’d like to wipe my palms dry but I don’t think Bill-E would hang there patiently if I released him. So, gripping tighter, glad of the dirt on my skin which counteracts the sweat, I give Loch the nod and we tug. Resistance, but not for very long. Soon Bill-E’s sliding out of the hole-within-the-hole, trembling wildly but otherwise unharmed. When his feet are clear, we give one last yank and he sprawls on top of us, knocking us to the earth, where we lie panting and laughing weakly.
After about a minute, without discussing it, we get up and crawl forward, eager to check out the hole that Bill-E has uncovered. It’s a black chasm. Impossible to see very far down it. The light’s too poor.
“Wait here,” Bill-E says, scrabbling up to the surface. He returns swiftly, a baseball cap on his head, two small torches strapped to either side. “Spent half an hour last night fixing this up,” he says proudly, then holds up a bigger, stronger torch. “I brought this too. Been lugging it around all day. Just in case.”
“Spleen, you’re a genius,” Loch says and Bill-E smiles. “A fat, deformed simpleton, but also a genius,” he adds and Bill-E’s smile turns to a scowl.
“Why don’t you take one of the lights off the hat?” I suggest. “Then we can all have one.”
“No,” Bill-E says. “They’re not powerful enough by themselves. You need the two together for them to be worth anything.” He brushes by us, justifiably smug, taking temporary leadership. He crouches by the edge of the hole he made and flicks on the strong torch. Loch and I crouch by him and stare. The hole continues down as far as we can see, at a slight angle, lots of little stones jutting out of the main rock face, plenty of niches for hands and feet.
“Bloody hell!” Loch gasps. “It’s massive.”
“There’s no way Lord Sheftree could have dug this,” Bill-E notes. “He might have widened the entrance to make it easier to get to this point, but the rest of it’s natural.”
“How far down do you think it runs?” I ask.
“Only one way to find out,” Bill-E grins.
“You’ve got to be joking!” Loch snorts.
“What?” Bill-E frowns. “You’re not coming with me?”
“We can’t go down there,” I mutter, taking Loch’s side. “Not without proper climbing boots, ropes, those metal pegs with the loops that climbers use… all that sort of gear.”
“It doesn’t look so difficult,” Bill-E argues. “I say we try it and go as far as we can. If we run into difficulties, we’ll come back later with climbing equipment.”
“Why risk it?” I press. “Let’s wait until the weekend, stock up, then –”
“You ever used any of that stuff before?” Loch asks. “Boots, ropes and so on?”
“Well, no, but –”
“Me neither,” he interrupts. “Spleenio?” Bill-E shakes his head. “If we’re going to do that, we need to practise,” Loch says slowly.
“So we practise. It means a delay, but –”
“What if someone comes along in the meanwhile, finds this and claims it for their own?” Loch cuts in.
I glare at him. “I hate the way you set out on one side of an argument, then talk your way completely round to the other side.”
Loch laughs. “You’re too conservative,