London Eye: 1 (Toxic City)(24)

“You need to lead us from here,” he said to Rosemary.

“It's not far,” she said, gasping for breath. “We'll be out of the sun again in a minute.”

“And next time we see it we'll be in the Toxic City,” Lucy-Anne said. Her eyes were hard, and when she glanced at Jack he sensed a shocking distance already growing between them.

“We still like to call it London,” Rosemary said. “It hasn't been toxic for a long time.”

Lucy-Anne nodded, still looking at Jack. What? he wanted to say. What is it? But he had never really understood her.

Sparky stood, looked around for a long time, then nodded. Rosemary climbed from the ditch and hurried across an area of long grass until she stood on concrete paving between metal tank covers. The others followed.

Beside the closest tank cover, there was a small hatch in the ground. The cover was metal as well, but light. Rosemary took a hooked metal manhole key from her pocket, curved it into a recessed ring in the cover and swung it upward. As she started down the small concrete staircase revealed beneath, she glanced up at the others. Her face softened, and for the first time Jack wondered whether she was a mother, and if so, where her husband and children were right now. He felt terrible for not asking, but now it seemed too late.

“It's not far now,” Rosemary said.

“Back down into the dark again,” Lucy-Anne said. There was something in her voice Jack had never heard before. He thought maybe it was fear.

“Yes, dear, but not for long. We're almost there.”

“If there's anything else you need to warn us about—” Jack began.

“The dogs are dead,” Rosemary said. “You killed them, together. I can't pretend the city isn't dangerous, but then you all know that, don't you?”

Emily separated from the small group and trained her camera on them. “The final descent before we rise into the Toxic City,” she said. “And then we'll go to find who we came for.” Even keeping the camera before her eye could not hide the tear that streaked her cheek.

“I'm not afraid,” Lucy-Anne said. But as she followed Rosemary down, every jerky, determined movement she made was testament to her lie.

Lucy-Anne was afraid of her nightmares.

The dogs from her dream had come and bitten her, and after everyone had set off from the ruined church, and it was only her and Rosemary left, she'd asked the old woman how close she had been to death. Its teeth nipped your spine, Rosemary had said, but I touched it and made it better.

How close? Lucy-Anne had demanded.

Very, Rosemary had said, before rushing across the road into the ditch.

Now, descending back into the darkness once again, Lucy-Anne waited for other nightmares to make themselves known. She refused to believe it had been coincidence, because after what she'd been through that would be too cruel.

But if not coincidence…what?

Have I had nightmares about falling? she wondered, and her feet reached the foot of the ladder. Rats carrying plague? But there were no vermin that she could see down here. My friends, killing me? She looked around at the others, and she suddenly wanted to fold up and cry out at the betrayal her imagination was capable of.

“Nearly there, everyone!” she said, amazing even herself with her upbeat voice. “We've been waiting for so long, and now we're almost there!”

Smiles were exchanged, and they went on their way.

To begin with, their path was simple. After descending the concrete steps they found themselves in a long tunnel that ran the length of the sewage treatment works, with shorter tunnels projecting off at right angles. The smell was subtle and subdued—much to Emily's obvious relief—and just before they reached the end, Rosemary opened a metal hatch in the wall. They took it in turns, squeezing through, shining their torches on the opening and into the tunnel revealed beyond. This one had a low ceiling that meant they all had to crouch down, and cockroaches scuttled away from their torch light.

This tunnel ended with a blank wall, but an opening had been smashed through, revealing an uneven, sloping route that led deeper. They followed Rosemary, emerging into a large, brick-lined chamber that seemed much older that the treatment plant built just beside it. It was the converging point of four large sewage pipes. This place did stink, even though none of the pipes seemed to be carrying very much. One of them trickled a small, steady flow of dirty water into the chamber, but the other three appeared dry.