Tuesday,
after school, I head back down the track just before dinner. I’m not here to search
for Jamie. I’ve got unfinished business.
I’m
standing before the mouth of a disused railway tunnel. A gaping black mouth overgrown
with thick knotted ivy. The darkness alone, deep and suffocating, would be enough
to put most people off. And the curtain of damp, and the coldness of the air. And
the silence. The deathly silence. But not me. I don’t hesitate. I’m not scared.
I’ve learnt that hatred is much stronger than fear.
To
think that this place had once been our playground. A place we came to for
adventures. It seems a long time ago now. It was an exciting world back then.
If only we’d known. We would never have come down here in the first place.
Back
in Victorian times these tunnels had been busy. They were a vital link to the docks
and the steamships that sailed across the ocean. But the line has been shut
down for decades now. The iron rails are rusted, and the wooden sleepers are
going through the long slow process of decay, crumbling to dust.
The
track runs mostly under the townspeople’s feet. It runs through a series of
long, dark tunnels. Here and there it comes out into the half-light, sunk below
embankments overgrown with trees, bushes and weeds. The tunnels were miracles
of engineering, but they’ve been left to ruin, overcome by nature. It’s a place
that has been truly forgotten about.
The
only people who ever come here - apart from kids like me and Jamie - are those
who want to avoid the police: underage drinkers and drug addicts. Their litter
is scattered about at the tunnel entrances: broken bottles, cans and used
syringes. I’m not scared of them either.
The rest of the track has already
been cleansed. Me and Jamie did most of it together. I did some of it myself
after....after. This tunnel is the last one left on the track. After this, they
can never return here.
Jamie
- my mind never strays from him too long. Only a matter of weeks ago we were
fighting those creatures together. And now he’s gone. They took him from me.
I’m burning, broiling with rage and determination as I stride into the
blackness.
This
tunnel is one of the longest ones. There’s no light showing from the other end.
I switch my torch on. It’s a halogen model, one of the best I could buy with my
pocket money. It floods the interior with light.
The
walls are still smoke blackened. I think of the thousands of steam engines that
ran through here during the glory days. But now the blackened roof is covered
in wet slimy patches, green with moss and dripping wet.
I
strut from sleeper to sleeper, swinging the torch from side to side. I’m
determined that no hole, no corner will be left unexplored, uncleansed. All I can
hear is the echoing sound of my own footsteps. It’s not long before the light
from the other end appears round the bend.
There
are no doorways, no maintenance hatches, not even a recess. That means there are
no hiding places, and nowhere for them to sleep securely away from the
daylight.
Finally
I reach the end, walking out into the open air and switching off my torch. A
hundred yards ahead the track comes to a halt at a ten foot high galvanised
steel fence. On the other side, the track intersects with the main line, the
one that trains still use. The red signal lights are visible, and the railtops are
of smooth polished silver.
I
linger there for a moment, imagining Jamie at my side, just like he had been
before. I suddenly feel downhearted. Now that I’ve reached the end, that I’ve
cleansed the track completely, it dawns on me just how far away he is, how out
of reach. How the heck am I ever going to find him?.
That
creature, the boy with the piercing red eyes, he knew I’d be looking for them.
He had looked into my eyes and into my mind, and he had read my thoughts. He
could see I wasn’t going to give up. In his place I would have been far away by
now.
I
turn back to face the tunnel. I peel off my backpack, reach inside and pull out
a can of white spray-paint and a bottle of holy water. I spray some large crucifixes
on the walls. Then I splash some of the water around the tunnel entrances.