The Tunnels Below by Nadine Wild-Palmer (best short novels of all time .TXT) 📕

With that she put on a pair of shades that looked as though they might belong to some old swimming goggles held together with stiff pieces of wire.

“So, how do we shut down a living thing without killing it? I assume we have to switch the generator off somehow to create a blackout,” said Luke.

“It’s going to be tricky but I know it has something to do with draining the main tank.” Lady-Bird’s voice quivered with distress. “The poor thing, Mr Sparks deserves better. I wish we could release him back into the lake where he belongs. But as he is the only source of light for the entire network of tunnels, we can’t. If we can get to him and drain the tank that keeps him prisoner, at least we can create a blackout while the tank refills. That should buy us a few minutes.

“We’re in big trouble if one of us gets caught. The hardest part is going to be getting you two past the guards and inside the generator room to Mr Sparks, so that I can let Kuffi out of the Nest,” said Lady-Bird.

“And Madame Midnight,” said Luke. “Once she tells everyone what happened to her, there’ll be a revolution!”

“Calm down, Luke, we’ve a long way to go yet,” said Lady-Bird, “and I’m afraid we are going to have to split up to put our plan into action. Unfortunately I can’t be in two places at once.”

“OK,” said Luke.

“There’s a lot the dwellers don’t know about Jacques d’Or. His looks aren’t the only reason he’s called that. He’s a collector of shiny things and he stows them away like treasure. He is sitting on a pretty big stash, underneath the Nest! That creature is a greedy thief! That’s why everyone trades in buttons; he’s obsessed with keeping all that shines to himself and his greatest admiration is for light itself. To light himself up and turn him gold. That’s why the Corvus Community exist: they are attracted to him instinctively. No one knows he’s just a plain old bird-face like anyone else. He’s managed to trick everyone into believing he is what’s valuable.

“We can’t just break into the Nest and snatch Kuffi from underneath him in plain sight because perched overhead and guarding the almighty Jacques of gold himself will be several of his heavies, the main guards of the Corvus Community. They’re his servants, don’t forget.”

“Do they know about all that treasure?” asked Cecilia.

“Of course not,” replied Lady-Bird. “They think Jacques d’Or is the treasure—that he’s special.”

Cecilia’s thoughts were racing as she stood there taking in what Lady-Bird was saying. She knew there was one piece of treasure Jacques d’Or didn’t have. Her marble.

Lady-Bird looked over her shoulder to check no one was eavesdropping.

“When we turn off Mr Sparks, Jacques d’Or will be rendered powerless to do anything—at least until the lights come back on—and by then Kuffi and Madame Midnight, if I can release her too, will be long gone. When Madame Midnight breaks the news, like Luke said, there will be a revolution.”

“What will you do, Lady-Bird?”

“I don’t know but I’m never going back there if all this works out. This is it, my moment to break free. Finally I’ll be able to sing when I want to. I won’t just be a lame warm-up act as an introduction for Jacques d’Or and his gang.”

“And Mr Sparks?” added Cecilia but before anyone could find the answer, the horse-face stallion from the door at El Porto Fino approached them.

“Are these two bothering you, Miss Lady-Bird?” he said.

“No, they’re fine, Salvatore. We’re just heading off actually. Thank you.”

The horse-face walked slowly back to his spot under the luminous sign.

“I think we’d better go,” said Lady-Bird. “We can grab a cup of hot liquorice tea on the way.”

“Yum!” said Luke.

21Hole in the Wall

Cecilia felt she was getting used to how the tunnels worked. Each one was connected to an opening, a plaza of some sort, that would lead on to another tunnel leading somewhere else. It felt reassuring to understand how it all worked. Luke, Lady-Bird and Cecilia travelled along a tunnel that could just about fit a double-decker bus inside it. Here the light shone down from above, one thick red strip, and the sides of the tunnel were tiled in black and white checks.

“Cool,” said Cecilia, looking around her.

“Here we are. I’m parched,” said Lady-Bird, pointing to a hole in the wall with a small cluster of tables and chairs gathered in front of it. Not far off there was a shifty goatface man in a leather jacket, tearing strips off a piece of paper and chewing them violently. He was talking into a tin can that was connected to a piece of string.

“Hester and I used to do that!” Cecilia said, recognising the instrument, and for a passing moment feeling like she recognised the goat-faced man; had she seen him before? Maybe on the way to the Ride or Sigh competition.

“What, talk on the line?” asked Luke.

“Yeah,” Cecilia said.

A voice jumped out at them from a hole in the wall.

“What’ll it be then, chaps?” The voice belonged to a rabbit-face in a red bow tie.

Then another rabbit-face with a bow tied around her ear said: “Liquorice tea? Hot or cold?” The rabbit-faced duo spoke very quickly.

Cecilia noticed that the two heads shared only one body.

“I’ll have mine cold,” said Luke. “Cecilia?”

“Yes, I’ll have the same please.”

“And I’ll have mine hot,” said Lady-Bird.

“Better for the vocal chords, I suspect, Miss Lady-Bird,” said the rabbit-face in the bow tie, throwing her a knowing wink.

“Quite right, Robert,” said Lady-Bird.

“Have a seat, we’ll bring them over when they’re ready.”

“Thank you, Jennifer… Robert.”

“Our pleasure,” they chimed.

Cecilia, Luke and Lady-Bird walked over to a little round table with a tessellated diamond design on its top. They sat down and the goat-face on the line had become so animated it was difficult to ignore him. Robert and Jennifer brought the drinks over and put them down on