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When the school's sports field and athletic track were constructed, part of the hillside west of the school had been carved out and the soil used to fill a small dip behind the school. This was levelled and eventually became a top rated facility. This, plus the sealed courts used for tennis in summer and netball in winter were used by other organisations during the weekend with the rents helping with maintenance.
Because of this, there was a steep hillside where pine trees, planted six years before had grown to a height of ten metres. Though it was still school property, the hillside was declared out-of-bounds, fenced off and more-or-less forgotten. After a week of stormy weather in late November a narrow slip had come down. During the lunch hour, two Year 10 boys more out of boredom than anything else, stood inspecting the damage.
One boy pointed to the edge of the slip. "Look, isn't that a soccer ball over there, Shane?"
"Could be, Dean," his companion replied. "It happens quite often, someone does a mighty kick that goes over the fence. It’s too high to climb so is just left."
"Yeah I remember Old Whitey moaning on how much lost balls were costing the school last winter. Didn't he say we lost a dozen or more soccer or rugby balls over this fence?"
Most of the students called Michael White that nickname when he was out of earshot.
"I reckon that if we went and had a look, we'd find others, too."
Dean nodded and glanced around. There was a cricket game going on across the field, a few girls wandering around but there was nobody close. Already though, Shane had pushed through the tree bows and was half way in. He followed, cursed at the sticky branches and one bit that swung back and scratched his arm. However, he managed to get through and follow his friend.
By keeping to the edge of the slip, it was easy enough to climb up to where the ball was sitting between tree roots. Shane was there so he just stood studying where the tree had uprooted. Behind the now vertical roots was a hole in the hillside that had been gouged out by the slip. But he saw something else! He squinted for it looked like something made of timber surrounded by a rectangular concrete frame. The timber was blackened with age. Of course, it was an old door! He could make out two hinges on the right and an old-fashioned handle to the left.
"What's that door doing there?" he asked.
Shane glanced up and frowned. "I've no idea but perhaps there was an old fort built here. My grandad once told me that there used to be tunnels and old guns built here over a hundred years ago. Something about the Russians coming. Let's go and have a look?"
Dean shrugged. "I guess but we'd better not take too long."
"There's still almost half-an-hour before the bell goes," Shane said.
Dean took the lead and headed up through the trees. Yes, it was a door and it did look old. The hinges and handle had almost rusted away and the timber appeared rotten along the bottom. He reckoned that with one good shove it would collapse. He found the mud around wasn't too deep with solid ground only a couple of centimetres underneath. Holding a tree bow, he made his way across and grabbed the concrete frame. The concrete appeared to be buried deep in the hillside so perhaps there was a tunnel in the hill.
Shane arrived behind him, reached for the door handle and attempted to move it but it was obviously all rusted up and didn't move. "The whole door's rotten. A few good kicks and I reckon we could put a hole in it."
Dean grinned and with his friend's help tried to kick a hole in the timber. He was only partly successful but managed to grab a few bits to break off. Shane reached up and pulled at the top. Between them they soon had half the rotten door pulled away to create enough room for them to squeeze through. A musty stench surrounded him. He glanced into the semi-darkness of a tunnel. It appeared high and wide enough for them to stand up in and disappeared into the hillside.
"It appears to be solid concrete and not just rotten old beams. I'd say it would be safe inside." Shane muttered. "We need a torch."
Dean followed Shane in a few metres and turned. There, within an arm's reach of the door opening was an old brass light switch similar to one in his grandparents’ house. "Well this tunnel is not a hundred years old, they didn't have electricity then," he said.
Shane peered at the switch. "Could have," he said. "It looks pretty old. See if it works."
Dean felt a little nervous but reached forward and clicked the switch on. Immediately a line of light bulbs dangling from the ceiling lit up. They were dull but most were working as they disappeared into the hillside for twenty metres or so where reflected light from the left showed that the tunnel turned. "Come on," he said. "Let's see what's around that corner."
Shane nodded but looked as nervous as he felt. The tunnel was wide enough for them to walk beside each other but looked eerie in the yellowish light. The concrete walls were only a little higher than themselves, before they curved over with the lights dangling down from the highest point another couple of metres above them. Though old, the concrete looked dry and in good condition. Dean turned and noticed a sign above the door they had just come through. It read Evacuation Exit 7 in faded letters.
"If this is the seventh exit, the place must be pretty big," Shane said. "Come on, we'll go as far as the corner."
"Not too far," Dean muttered. "The bell will be going in a few minutes."
When they reached the corner, he could see why it looked different from the doorway. The tunnel didn't just turned but went down narrow stairs to a landing about twenty metres below where it turned and by the look of the lights, continued on downwards at a right angle.
Shane looked uncertain. "Shall we?" he asked and nodded at the stairs.
"No time," Dean said. "Let's come back tomorrow."
Shane nodded. "But we tell nobody. Agreed?"
"What if somebody else finds it?"
"We can move the branches to cover the entrance and pull back the wire we moved in the fence. The chances of anyone else coming over here is pretty remote. Hardly anybody bothers to come to this end of the grounds."
Dean nodded. "Okay." He took one last look at the steps and followed Shane back to the entrance. He turned off the switch and plunged the tunnel into darkness. It was funny how spooky it suddenly seemed with the only light now coming from the doorway.
In the distance they heard the school bell that was really a siren that could be heard throughout the grounds. "Come on," Shane shouted. "You know how Old Whitey moans if we're slow at getting off the field?"
They hastily pulled back branches and the wire to cover their tracks before they ran back across the field. They even beat some of the cricketers who were still packing up and reached their classroom just as their classmates walked in.
*
The following lunch hour and accompanied by Shane, Dean headed off to the edge of the field as soon as possible. It was another hot day and as usual, that far corner of the grounds was empty with nobody taking any interest in them. Shane had brought a torch just in case the lights went out and a plastic bag of odds and ends, mainly a couple of apples and a bottle of water while Dean brought pliers and screwdrivers that he thought would be helpful if they came to another door.
Soon they were at the place where they had stopped the day before and descended the stairwell around the corner. It continued down to another landing, onto a third and they finally arrived at a small tunnel that led out to the side of a long tunnel that was similar in size and shape to the one near the entrance.
"What way?" Shane asked.
Dean replied. “Fifty, fifty but I think we should mark this entrance as there could be similar ones along the tunnel." He took a piece of pad paper from his plastic bag drew a big tick on the page and looked around for somewhere to place it. Above the entrance were the remains of a sign that also read Evacuation Exit. He poked the paper through a nail that protruded from the concrete in a long-gone corner and tucked one side under the sign itself. "Okay. What way now?"
"Pity we never brought a compass," Shane said. "We came down three landings all going to the right so, in theory we should be directly below where we came in. I'd say go right and that will take us towards the harbour."
"Okay." Dean glanced at his watch. "If we keep going for fifteen minutes it will allow us time to get back to school before the bell goes."
"Make it ten," Shane replied. “Remember we have to climb all those steps we came down."
The tunnel curved slightly but there were no sharp bends, the ancient lights dangled from the ceiling every twenty metres or so with most working. However, a few weren't so at times there were dark areas with elongated shadows from the distant lights in both directions. Apart from smelling musty, the air appeared to be okay and actually blew slightly in their faces. This was a good sign for it showed the tunnels were ventilated. They also walked past three side tunnels similar to the one they arrived through and in one case, the sign above was intact and stated Evacuation Exit 4. It appeared that with the descending numbers they had picked the right direction though Shane pointed out that this could just lead to an entrance and not a chamber or whatever was the reason for the tunnel's construction in the first place.
Dean shrugged for they were only guessing. He glanced at his watch. "We'd better head back. The ten minutes are up."
Shane pouted. "Aren't we going to social studies with Mrs Bragman after lunch?"
"Yeah. What difference does that make?"
"Well, she never marks the roll, not like Cranky Craig in the last period. If we skip Period 4 and get back to Cranky for Period 5, nobody will notice.”
"Some of the girls will, that's for sure. Anyway, isn't Mrs Bagman the acting principal today?"
"So much the better. At this time of the year there are lots of kids in our class doing other things. Every period there are three or four who aren't there. Any relieving teacher taking the class will just think we've got an extra duty." Shane grinned. "Nobody really notices us anyway."
This was true, the conscientious, sporty students or the ratbags were always conspicuous in class but those like themselves tended to just blend in. Dean was apprehensive, though. He had never purposely cut a period before,
"Oh come on," Shane persuaded. "Otherwise we'll have to leave it until the weekend to have enough time to explore."
Dean nodded. "As long as we're back for Cranky Craig's class."
"So that'll give us an extra hour, another half hour before we need to return. Okay!"
"I guess."
They strolled on in silence for five minutes with no changes in the tunnel except for three more exits that appeared. The last one had a sign that could just be made out to read Evacuation Exit 1.
"Look!" Dean cried for ahead of them the tunnel ended with a concrete wall across it that surrounded a door. This was also a wooden one but it was in good condition with even the handle showing no rust. The back of hinges showed so that the door probably swung their way.
This was correct for when Shane grabbed and swung the handle down he had to pull on it. "Help me," he said. "It's stuck but I think I shifted it a fraction,"
Dean noticed there was a gap so he pushed his fingers through and tugged. The hinges squeaked and the gap became larger. Shane knelt down and followed Dean's idea. With them both pulling, the door slowly pivoted towards them until it became easier to move. With a couple more tugs they gained momentum and swung the door open.
They stepped through into a large cavern that resembled the interior of a church with its high curved roof but without any windows. There were lights way above them that showed shelves along both sides filled with military type canvas bags and engine parts. Of more interest were two rows of objects on wooden frames along the centre of the cavern. Piled three high and four along each row were long silver objects with tail fins and boat-like propellers encased in wooden frames while at the front end there were circular plywood covers built around nose cones. There were twenty-four objects altogether. Six had yellow noses while the rest were painted red.
"Are they flying bombs?" Shane asked.
"Doubt it for they don't have wings. They're more likely to be bombs or torpedoes. Wasn't there an air force seaplane base in the harbour way back? In a straight line we wouldn't be far from the upper harbour"
Shane shrugged. "So these bombs have been here for seventy or more years?"
"Possibly."
"This must be an underground storage bunker but why were they hidden here for all those years?"
Dean shrugged but felt excited as he walked over to one of the torpedoes, that he was sure it was. This one had a red nose cone with a rounded front with an eyebolt at the front for a hook to fit into. He stepped it out and estimated that it would be four metres long with a diameter of about fifty centimetres. The whole torpedo looked to be in a surprisingly good condition, as did all the others.
"This whole cave appears to be dry," he said, "That could be why the lights still work. With no water seeping in, these torpedoes have remained in good condition. They have probably remained in darkness for all those years until we turned on the lights so there wasn't even light to fade the paintwork. They must have been stored here by the air force or navy."
"So why weren't they destroyed after the war?" Shane asked.
"No idea. Perhaps they thought they might be needed again and stored them here, well away from houses across the harbour. Way back then, this was just bush and farmland. There could have been a slip that covered the original entrance. Who knows?"
"They look dangerous. I wouldn't want to start fiddling with them."
"No. We'd better get back and tell someone."
Dean strolled around the frames but except for the two different coloured noses, the torpedoes all looked identical. Shane and himself were about three quarters of the way around when the lights flickered.
"Come on, we'd better get back." Shane sounded nervous.
However, after flickering several more times, the lights went out and they were plunged into darkness.
*
Deputy Principal Sandra Bragman enjoyed her time as acting principal, even if it had to be shared with the other DPs. She was in Karla's office where she leaned back in the comfortable swivel chair behind the massive desk and gazed out the window at the empty foyer below. At half-past-one, afternoon classes had been going for ten minutes and there appeared little to do. Sometimes she wondered how Karla filled in her time, especially in the afternoons. In her opinion, with this sized school, a principal was mainly a figurehead who delegated everything out to hard working DPs who did most of the work for half the appreciation.
Sandra grinned to herself. She liked Karla but at times still felt envious that someone younger than herself could win such a prestigious position. She had applied for principal positions over the last three years but didn't want to leave the city so had not even applied for country or small town principalships. She only got shortlisted for one application but after an interview that she through had gone quite well, had lost out. The only satisfaction was that the successful applicant was a man in his late fifties.
Perhaps she should do something! But why bother? She reached across to the computer and brought up Trade me, the New Zealand equivalent of eBay, and began browsing. Christmas was not far away so it was a good time to look for bargains.
A few moments later there was a tap on the door and Maureen from the office walked in. It was lucky that the computer screen couldn't be seen from across the room.
"The relieving teacher in your room has just reported that two boys have not returned up for Period 4, Sandra."
Sandra frowned and asked who they were. When told she relaxed a little. Both Dean and Shane were quiet types, almost nerds who were somewhat immature compared with the Year 10 girls but at that age most boys were. The worst they'd be doing was chatting to the groundsman about the new tractor the school had just purchased and had not heard the siren.
"Right, thanks Maureen," she said.
"Want me to follow it up?"
Sandra shrugged. "I wouldn't worry. I doubt if they've gone far."
"Karla always follows up any reports of students missing classes, especially straight after lunch hour."
Sandra bristled. “Did you check the lunchtime passes of students leaving the grounds?"
"Yes, but their names weren't on any of the gate lists."
Sandra nodded. "I know these boys. If you'd like to stroll down to the maintenance shed you’ll probably find them talking to Graeme, the groundsman. If he's got some machinery going they probably didn't hear the siren." She coughed. "I'd go myself but I have fill in some returns for the Ministry. Trust Michael to leave most of them for me to do."
Maureen nodded and left. Feeling guilty, Sandra switched off Trade me and brought up the returns she was meant to be filling in.
At two twenty-five, Maureen returned with worried look on her face. "The two boys haven't reported to their last period class either. Craig asked the class if anyone had seen them and a couple of girls saw them at the back of the football field where that tree came down."
"They don't like sports much and usually just wander around in good weather or go to the library if it's wet," Sandra muttered. "I guess they left the grounds. I'll give them a good talking to tomorrow."
"Would you like me to call their parents?"
Sandra shook her head. "No, leave it to me. Thanks Maureen."
She grimaced. The stupid boys had probably left the school grounds and would go home after wandering around the mall all afternoon. Now, if it was a couple of her troublemaking girls she'd be worried. She sighed and returned to her computer. The returns were taking longer than she had anticipated.
*
It was after six and Karla had just put their evening meal on the table when her school mobile rang. It was Tania Prescott, one of the parents she had had a little to do on the PTA. The woman sounded worried but apologised for calling her at home when she was on leave.
"That's okay, Tania. How can I help you?"
"It's Dean. He hasn't come home from school and when I called the office there just before four, Maureen confirmed that he had been absent since lunchtime."
"Wasn't it followed up?"
"Apparently not. I called Sandra Bagman and asked why I hadn't been called during the afternoon. She sort of brushed it off but I'm worried, Karla. He's never home late after school. It's so out of character. Do you think I should ring the police?"
Karla glowered. "I'll follow it up, Tania and get back to you."
"Thanks Karla. Oh one other thing. I called Molly Coull. Do you know her?"
"I know she's one of our parents but I don't think I've personally met her."
"Her son Shane is Dean's best friend. I thought she might know where Dean was but she said he hadn't come home either but she hadn't been worried for he often went to his father's place after school until about seven. The Coulls are divorced and Shane's father has remarried. His second wife has a couple of pre-schoolers that Shane likes visiting."
"So it sounds as if they could be together. Thanks Tania, I'll get back to you within an hour. Okay?"
She hung up, glowered and told Ryan about the conversation. "Damn, Sandra. I know she's pretty casual at times but you'd think she would follow this up..." she added.
Ryan nodded "There's something else that I was going to mention but it didn't seem important until now."
"And that is?"
"You know how we can remotely monitor all the websites that the school computers access?"
Karla nodded.
"Someone at school was on Trade me for a short time this afternoon."
"I thought that was one of the sites we blocked in school hours."
"Oh it is but not in the admin. block." Ryan stared at her. "It was your office computer that accessed Trade me. I can get the exact times if you like."
Karla's anger rose. "Do it!" she hissed, "I think Sandra Bagman will have some explaining to do about everything but let's try to find the boys first, shall we?"
*