Kennet waits for a second, listening, then cautiously pulls open the door. It is dark inside the little office, which contains nothing but a desk, a few folding chairs with plastic seats, and a couple of rusty oxygen tanks. On the wall is a crumpled poster showing exotic fish in emerald-green water. It’s obvious that the diving club is no longer here; maybe it moved or went bust and ceased to exist altogether.
A fan begins to whirr and an inner door clicks. Kennet puts a finger to his lips. They can hear the distinct sound of footsteps. Moving forward, Kennet pushes open the door to reveal an expansive storage area. Someone is running away in the darkness. Kennet takes up the pursuit but suddenly cries out.
“Dad?” shouts Simone.
She can’t see him, but she can hear his voice. He swears and calls to her to be careful. “They’ve put up barbed wire.”
There’s a metallic rattling sound across the concrete floor. Kennet has started to run again. Simone follows him, carefully climbing over the barbed wire and moving on into the large space. The air is cold and damp. It’s dark, and she halts for a moment to get her bearings. She can hear rapid footsteps further away.
Light from the spotlight on a container crane shines in through a dirty window, and Simone can see a figure next to a fork-lift truck. It’s a boy with a mask covering his face, a grey mask made of fabric or cardboard. He’s crouching slightly, and he’s got a piece of iron pipe in his hand.
Kennet is getting close to him, moving quickly along rows of metal shelves.
“Behind the fork-lift,” Simone shouts.
The boy in the mask rushes out and hurls the metal pipe at Kennet. It spins through the air and passes just above his head.
“Wait, we just want to talk to you,” yells Kennet.
The boy slams into a metal door, which opens with a bang. Light floods in as the boy rushes out.
“He’s getting away,” Kennet hisses as he reaches for the door.
The slush has made the ground treacherous, and when Simone follows, she slips on the wet jetty. Getting to her feet, she sees her father running along the edge of the dock. To one side is a steep drop into black, freezing water, enormous shards of ice creaking in the darkness. She runs, following the two figures ahead of her. If she trips and slips over the edge, she knows it wouldn’t take long before the ice-cold water paralyzed her; she would sink like a stone with her thick coat and her boots full of black winter water.
She thinks about the journalist who was assassinated as she drove alongside the dock with a friend. Their car sank like a weighted fishing creel, straight down into the water; it was swallowed up by the soft mud and disappeared.
When she reaches Kennet, she is out of breath, trembling with fear and exertion. Her back is soaked from the rain. Kennet is waiting for her, bent double; the bandage around his head has come loose, and a trickle of blood is running from his nose. His breathing sounds harsh and painful. On the ground lies a mask made of cardboard. It has started to disintegrate in the rain, and when the wind catches hold of it, it swirls up in the air and disappears.
“Fucking hell,” says Kennet.
They move away from the water as the darkness increases around them. The rain has eased, but a strong wind has blown up, howling around the huge metal buildings. They pass a long, rectangular dry dock and Simone hears the wind singing down below. Tractor tyres on rusty chains hang along the side, acting as buffers. She looks down into the huge empty space, blasted out of the rock, a vast pit with rough walls strengthened with concrete and reinforced with steel. Fifty yards below she can see a concrete floor with huge plinth blocks.
A tarpaulin flaps in the wind and the light from a crane flickers across the perpendicular walls of the dry dock. Suddenly Simone spots someone hiding behind a concrete plinth down below.
Kennet sees her stop, and looks at her inquiringly. Without speaking, she points down into the dry dock. The crouching figure moves away from the light.
Kennet and Simone dash towards a set of narrow steps leading down the wall. The figure starts to run towards something that looks like a door down there. Kennet clings to the rail as he runs down the steep steps; he slips but regains his balance. There is a heavy, acrid smell of metal, rust, and rain. Keeping close to the wall, they continue downwards, their footsteps echoing in the depths of the dry dock.
The bottom of the dock is covered with several inches of water; Simone shivers as she feels the cold water seeping in through her boots.
“Where did he go?” she shouts.
Kennet moves among the enormous blocks big enough to hold a ship in place when the dry dock is emptied of water. He points to the spot where the boy disappeared.
“It’s not a door,” he says, “it’s some kind of air vent.” He peers inside but sees nothing. Out of breath, he runs his hand over his forehead and neck. “Out you come,” he puffs. “That’s enough.”
They hear a rasping noise, heavy and rhythmic. Kennet begins to crawl inside the air vent.
“Careful, Dad.”
There’s a knocking sound, then the sluice gate begins to creak. Suddenly there’s a deafening hiss, and Simone realises what’s happening.
“He’s letting the water in,” she yells.
“There’s a ladder in here,” Kennet bellows.
With terrifying pressure, thin streams of ice-cold water begin to gush into the dry dock through the tiny gap between the sluice gates. As the doors continue to move apart, the onrushing water builds into a deafening cataract. Simone races towards the steps, but the vast space fills rapidly, and soon she is struggling through knee-deep freezing water. The light from the crane flickers over the rough walls. The strong current sends the water in powerful eddies, dragging Simone backwards. She bangs into a large metal mounting and feels white-hot pain. An ocean of black water is engulfing her. Weeping with terror, she reaches the steps and lunges for the hand-rail, gripping it tightly and searching for purchase with her numbed feet. Finally, step by step, she is climbing above the level of the water, outdistancing it. When the water is safely below her, she turns around. She can’t see her father. The water has completely covered the vent in the wall. The sluice gates are screaming. Her body is shaking with fear and cold, but she presses on, her lungs burning. Then the roar of the water gradually begins to diminish. The gates close, and the influx stops. She gasps, aching to catch her breath. She’s lost all feeling in the hand holding on to the rail. Her clothes are heavy, pulling across her thighs. She begins climbing again, unsure of what awaits her at the top.
Kennet is on the opposite side of the dry dock. He waves at her. He grips a boy by the upper arm and is marching him toward the containers.
At a distance, Simone follows them, through the containers and past the enormous tanks, until they reach the car.
Kennet’s expression is strange. Simone cannot read it. The boy stands there passively, his head drooping.
“Where’s Benjamin?” Simone screams before she even gets to them.
The boy doesn’t respond. She grabs his shoulders and spins him around, then recoils at what she sees, gasping.
The boy’s nose has been cut off.
It looks as if someone has tried to stitch up the wound, but in haste and without any medical expertise. The boy’s expression is one of total apathy. The wind howls; all three of them get into the car, Kennet joining the boy in the backseat. Shivering uncontrollably, Simone turns on the engine to get the heat going. The windows quickly steam up. She finds a bar of chocolate and offers it to the boy. The inside of the car is very quiet.
“Where’s Benjamin?” Kennet asks harshly.
The boy looks down at his knees. He munches the chocolate and swallows hard.
“You’re going to tell us everything, you hear me?”
“You’ve beaten up kids, stolen their money,” says Simone.
“I don’t exist now,” he whispers.
“Why did you do it?” Kennet asks.
“That’s just the way it was when we—”
“That’s just the way it was?” Kennet snaps. “Where are the others?”
“How am I supposed to know? Maybe they’re in new gangs now,” says the boy. “I hear Jerker is.”
“Are you Wailord?”
The boy’s mouth trembles. “I’ve stopped now,” he says faintly. “I promise I’ve stopped.”
“Where’s Benjamin?” Simone asks shrilly.
“I don’t know,” he says quickly. “I’ll never hurt him again, I promise.”
“Listen to me,” Simone says. “I’m his mother. I have to know.”
But she is interrupted by the boy, who begins to rock back and forth, sobbing pitifully and saying over and over again, “I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise …”
Kennet places a hand on Simone’s arm. “We need to take him in,” he says emptily. “He needs help.”