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Escape to Witch City Page 9
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Page 9
“I’m fine.” Her voice was shaky. “You?”
“Fine.” Eliza shifted, and then froze when the floor beneath them creaked. “Where are the others?”
There was a low groan, and then Edgar’s voice came from somewhere off to the left. “I’m here. I think I’m bleeding.” A horrified gasp followed this, and he said, “Blast! I’ve lost my book.”
“Ouch,” said a voice from the dark patch over Emma’s left shoulder. She felt a flood of relief, hearing Maddie. “That hurt.”
Slowly, Emma raised herself up to her hands and knees. There was a clatter and thump of something falling overhead, and she froze as the train let out a shuddering creak.
“Hold on,” Eliza whispered. There was a small flicker of light coming from the same direction as her voice. All at once, the crumpled train car was bathed in the orange glow of a tiny flame in the palm of Eliza’s hand.
Emma gaped around at the wreckage. The back of the carriage they were in had somehow survived almost unscathed on one side. The other sides, though, had been crushed. The compartments overhead had separated from the wall and were dangling down into the carriage. The front was even worse. It was almost entirely crumpled in on itself. Emma couldn’t even tell where the engine had been; only fragments of the pipes and controls were left, glittering darkly under the flickering light.
Eliza’s face was tight with fear, her eyes wide and white in the darkness. A little behind her, Edgar was also on his hands and knees. He was squinting against the light, his face pale and shell-shocked. His black curls were flat on one side, and there was a streak of blood on one temple.
A little off to the left, Maddie was sitting up straight, peering around at them. Her butterscotch curls had turned into tangles. She’d ripped the front of her dress, and she had a nasty-looking scratch on one cheek. “What now?”
Emma winced, glancing around the train car. Most of the wooden benches had been smashed to bits, and they were now on the wall to her left, instead of on the floor where they were supposed to be.
“We’ve flipped.” Saying it out loud made it seem real, even though her ears were still ringing and everything seemed a bit distant.
As if in response, another loud creaking sound came from somewhere overhead, and the floor beneath them trembled.
Emma felt the palms of her hands begin to sweat, and her chest slowly constricted as panic crept in. If the train collapsed on them, they might all end up buried.
Eliza must have been thinking the same thing; her fire flickered and then jumped in her palm, suddenly shooting almost to the roof. She hissed in alarm and clapped her other hand over top, nearly extinguishing the flame and allowing the darkness to rush back in.
“Careful,” Emma whispered, thinking that the engine might be rather combustible at this point.
“Sorry.” Eliza’s voice was shaky, her dark brows knitted together. “It gets all…jumpy when I get nervous.”
Emma knew all about that.
As if on cue, or perhaps because she was now thinking of it, she suddenly became aware of a faint whooshing sound—the steady rush of blood pumping. She tried to wrestle the panicked thoughts down, to tell herself to take deep, even breaths.
There came a rattling thud from the side of the train car, and the floor beneath them vibrated. Emma sat back into a crouch, nearly hitting her head on one of the shattered benches beside her.
“It’s shifting.” Eliza thrust her little flame up toward the roof. “Come on, we’ve got to find a way off this thing.”
“How do we get out?” Emma asked.
Together, the four of them turned toward the door—or at least to the spot where the door should have been.
“This means the door is…” Edgar let his words trail off as he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Eliza and Emma exchanged a look, and Maddie’s face went paler still. Slowly, all three girls looked up.
There was the door, cracked open and showing the barest sliver of daylight, on what was now the roof.
Well,” Maddie said weakly, “at least it’s open.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Eliza said.
A loud thump sounded from somewhere above, and Emma stiffened. It was different from the train settling—more like something heavy had dropped onto the roof.
“Eliza, can you light up the door? We have to see if we can get it further open before we try to get up there.”
Eliza answered by lifting her hand. The flame on her palm flared brighter suddenly, jumping higher, and she flinched but held steady. Emma was willing to bet she was thinking about accidentally setting the conductor on fire. They couldn’t afford to blow anything else up.
“There’s just enough space,” Edgar said, sounding relieved. “I can fit through that, no problem.”
“Little problem, actually.” Maddie had her head tilted back, staring up at the roof. “How are we meant to get up there?”
Knowing they didn’t have long, Emma looked around frantically. Most of the benches near the door were ruined, but the one that had been directly in front of it was still mostly intact.
“If I stand on the bench, I should be able to give you a boost up to the door,” Eliza offered.
Emma jerked upright as another thump rattled the length of the train. Whatever that was, it couldn’t be good.
“Let’s try this.” Eliza was the first one to climb onto the bench. “I’m the tallest; I’ll boost you up. Maddie, you first, you’ve got to be the lightest out of us.”
Emma frowned. Eliza was already so precariously balanced on the half-shattered bench that it was hard to imagine her boosting anyone, but there also didn’t seem to be any other way. She wrapped her hands around Eliza’s ankles, steadying her. Eliza laced her fingers together and nodded at Maddie, who took a breath and placed her foot into Eliza’s hands.
“Try to be quiet once you’re out,” Eliza hissed at her. In spite of the annoyed look Maddie shot back at Eliza, Emma couldn’t help but agree.
Someone had to be looking for them by now, maybe even digging through the wreckage for their bodies.
Maddie pushed the splintered door open just enough to fit her upper body through, and Emma watched, wide-eyed, as she inched her way out. Finally, her feet disappeared, and the door shut behind her with a gentle thump.
For several long seconds nothing happened, and Emma had the terrible thought that Maddie had jumped off and run, leaving them behind. Edgar seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he shifted and muttered, “Where is she?” A second later, though, the door swung slowly open with a ponderous shriek of metal on metal, and they all squinted, shielding their eyes as yellow light flooded the carriage.
Maddie stared down at them, face pale, hair tangled and disheveled, and Emma felt a surge of relief—along with a healthy dose of guilt for ever doubting her.
“Half the tunnel’s collapsed on the back of the train,” Maddie whispered. “Hurry and come up.”
Eliza spun around, locking her fingers together. She lifted Edgar next, who seemed to have recovered his book from the floor, and insisted on stuffing it inside his jacket before climbing up. Maddie reached down and caught his wrists, hauling him onto the roof, and then it was Emma’s turn.
When Emma hesitated, Eliza whispered fiercely, “Get on with it. You’ll pull me up once you’re on the roof.”
Emma obeyed, placing her foot carefully in the cradle of Eliza’s hands, gasping as the other girl lifted her upward. She wobbled slightly, and then Maddie and Edgar leaned in through the open door and grabbed her arms.
Emma tried not to make any sound as they hauled her up through the door, though her arms were scraped terribly on the frame and her stomach definitely felt bruised.
At last she found herself on the roof of the carriage—or what was once the side, she supposed—on her hands and kne
es, relieved to find everything much brighter outside. She rose to a crouch, and immediately she could feel the difference getting out of the train made. She dragged in a deep, revitalizing breath, blinking at her surroundings and feeling a little as though she’d just woken up.
While most of the thistle dust had blown out when Eliza broke the window, it had obviously still been affecting her.
Maddie grasped her arm to steady her, pressing a finger to her lips. Edgar was very still where he stood, looking wide-eyed at their surroundings.
Emma glanced around. They were in a set of large, cavernous rooms—an underground station made of stone, with vaulted ceilings hundreds of feet above them. Everything was lit by gas lanterns in ugly iron brackets along the walls.
So this was where the tunnel led.
“Look at this,” Maddie breathed. “We’ve got to get her out before any more of it collapses.”
Maddie was right. The tunnel leading into the station was in a bad state. The train had crashed into the barrier and derailed, and the mouth of the tunnel had collapsed onto the back of it. There was a scattering of rocks along the top of the train—pieces of the tunnel had been tumbling down onto it every time it shifted.
So that explained the thumping noises they’d been hearing.
The train was a crumpled wreck. The car they were standing on was bad, but the cars behind it were completely compacted. Emma winced. Thank goodness they’d been in the first car when the train crashed; otherwise, they wouldn’t be standing here right now. The conductor was probably alright too, she told herself. He’d been in the first compartment with them, although she hadn’t seen him amongst the splintered benches.
For a moment, all three of them just stood there, looking out over the wreckage. The entire thing looked like a toy train some giant child had kicked off the track during a temper tantrum. It didn’t seem real.
Before any of them could move, a shout came from somewhere down the length of the train, and yellow light began to pour through the crumbled mouth of the tunnel. The sound of muffled voices reached them.
Someone was on the other side, trying to dig through.
They had to get Eliza out now.
Emma turned back to the door, shuffling closer to the frame, and Maddie and Edgar did the same on the other side. When she looked down though, she felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Even standing on the bench the way she was, Eliza wasn’t tall enough to reach the door. Getting her out was going to be incredibly difficult.
The crash of more rocks falling onto the train made them all jump, and Emma realized with a burst of panic that the people trying to dig through were only going to ensure that more of the tunnel collapsed on the train.
Maddie seemed to realize this too, because she whispered, “We’ve got to be quick. Give us your hands.”
Eliza’s face was strangely resigned as she balanced on the bench and reached her hands toward them. “You’re not going to be able to pull me up. I’m too heavy.”
“Shush up and put your hands higher.” Emma edged forward, wiggling closer so her belly was pressed into the edge of the doorframe. When she reached down, she was able to grasp Eliza’s wrist, but the angle was terrible. She couldn’t seem to get a solid grip.
“It’s no good, you’ll have to leave me.” Eliza’s voice broke, and Emma shook her head fiercely.
“Shut up and grab my hand.” She turned back, about to tell Edgar that he might try actually helping, when she realized he was no longer there.
Her mouth fell open when she spotted him. He was moving away from them, walking the length of the train, carefully picking his way around shattered glass and over the bars on the windows.
“He’s leaving,” Maddie hissed. “The coward!”
Before Emma could reply there was a shout from behind them, followed by another crashing rumble. A huge chunk of the wall bounced down the rockslide at the mouth of the tunnel and slammed into the train. The carriage shuddered beneath her. There was now a space at the top of the tunnel where light filtered through, and the muffled voices of the men—soldiers, likely—became clearer.
“Almost through. Keep digging!”
Emma turned back to the door, pulse galloping.
She and Maddie leaned down again, tugging frantically at Eliza’s arms, and Maddie squeaked in alarm as she slid forward on her belly.
“Don’t fall back in, you ninny,” Eliza growled, “or I’ll murder you myself!”
Emma stood back, despair jolting through her. “The angle is wrong, we can’t—”
Emma stopped speaking and wiggled backward as someone came barreling up the length of the train. It was Edgar, red-faced and panting, dragging a thin wooden plank behind him. “Out of the way!”
For once she obeyed, jumping back as he slid the board into the doorway, calling down to Eliza, “Move!”
Eliza jumped back with a cry of surprise as the end of the plank hit the floor several inches from the edge of the bench. Edgar made a face as he struggled to push it forward. “If I can just get the angle right…”
Emma realized what he was doing almost at the same time Eliza and Maddie did. “Brilliant,” Maddie said enthusiastically, and Eliza called up to him, “Yes! Just a little forward, you’ve nearly got it. Hold it there, I’m going to—”
She was cut off by another crash of rocks tumbling to the floor. This time, the hole at the top of the rockpile was wide enough to allow a thick wooden staff to poke through. Whoever was holding it knocked rocks back and away from the makeshift entrance. Emma’s stomach clenched. She knew what was coming.
Even still, when the witch hunter leaned into the tunnel, she felt a shock. McCraw’s hat was gone, and his hair was standing up wildly and covered in gray rock dust.
He stared right at the front of the train, and Emma ducked out of sight.
He’d seen her.
“Up!” Emma hissed, frantic. “Climb! Climb!” But Eliza was practically vaulting up the board already, face set in grim determination, skirts gathered in both hands.
She’d made it nearly two-thirds of the way up the board when it began to splinter.
Emma heard the wood crack before it happened, and saw Edgar, still holding the top of the board steady, reel back with the shock of the shifting weight. She lunged forward, hooking her arms under Eliza’s armpits, her stomach and hips pressing painfully into the doorframe.
She wanted to scream as she slid forward, but she was too winded; all she could manage was a great wheeze of shock as she began to tip under Eliza’s weight. A second later someone gripped her around the waist. Maddie and Edgar hauled her back, and Emma hit the roof of the train hard, panting, Eliza sprawling out beside her.
There was no time to rest. They could hear shouting, and the sound of heavy rocks falling. The bar of light coming from the hole atop the rockpile grew suddenly wider, and a shout of triumph echoed through the station.
McCraw was through.
Maddie practically hauled Emma up by the back of her dress.
“Get up! Get up and run!”
They ran, pelting down the length of the carriage, dodging crumpled metal and shards of glass, heading straight for the ruined engine car. They could hear someone yelling at them to halt, to stop in the name of the Crown.
They ran faster.
“We’ve got to jump down,” Emma yelled over their thumping footsteps. “Get off the side and make a run for it.”
None of the others looked happy about this, but they didn’t argue. They didn’t have time. Emma was already swerving to the left. “Jump and keep on running,” she called, and then she jumped.
It didn’t take any bravery, not really. It wasn’t much of a jump, and the only other option was to run off the front of the smashed engine car.
She heard Eliza and Maddie jump behind her, and then Edgar a second later. They spread out, r
unning for the opposite side of the cavernous terminal. Emma didn’t look back; she could hear the shouting getting closer.
If they didn’t find somewhere to hide, their escape would be over before it began.
The room seemed to be divided along the train tracks into large, spacious platforms, just like an ordinary train station, with the rock walls of the cavern sectioning off each individual platform. The vaulted ceilings made their pounding footsteps echo through the station, though the sound of the train shrieking and grinding as it settled on the tracks behind them was far louder. The air smelled like spilled petrol and something burning, but at least there were plenty of places to hide.
Emma darted around a corner and into the nearest section.
They found themselves in a wide-open space. A series of steps led up to a wooden platform in the middle illuminated by a line of flickering oil lanterns bolted to the walls.
This part of the station was odd. The platform wasn’t a proper train platform at all; it was far too narrow and high, and looked more like a wooden stage than anything else. It was set against the length of the wall, with a crude wooden arch constructed in the center.
Then Emma saw them, tied at regular intervals along the length of the wooden beam that formed the top of the arch. Four twisted cords of black rope, the thick fibers woven with bits of green.
A shuffle from somewhere behind them, and then voices barking at one another. McCraw and his men were just around the corner.
“We’ve got to find a way out,” Eliza hissed, eyes wide.
“There, behind the platform.” Maddie’s voice was sharp with excitement. “It looks like a door.”
Maddie was right. There was a thick oak door set into the wall, banded with iron and locked with a heavy deadbolt from the inside.
Emma followed the others, pulse spiking as the pounding of footsteps grew closer behind them. If McCraw rounded the corner now they were caught.
Maddie was the first to get to the door in the wall, and she tugged frantically at the lock. “It’s rusted shut,” she whispered, eyes wide.