CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

NOISES OUTSIDE

 

 

THERE WERE NO sounds in the night. The Aux no longer regarded the constant ping and plash of dripping water as threatening. They were part of the everyday landscape of their lives, and no longer disturbed them.

Sentries were changed every two hours, and everyone was able to sleep. A fug of almost too much warmth filled the service tunnels they occupied, and blankets and pelts were tossed aside as bodies rolled in slumber. The air was no longer filled with the steam of dozens of exhaling bodies as the temperature rose above freezing.

Ben Gun was the first to wake to noises from outside.

Then others quickly awoke around him, and the sentries began to gather to report.

Fierce sounds of battle were filtering down from above ground.

“Aux,” said Ezra Pound immediately on hearing the fighting.

“Us, do we join battle?” asked Oscar so Wild.

Ezra Pound looked around at his pack. His scrappers were already dressed in outside clothes and were arming, but some of them were newly called, green, and there was no alliance yet. Almost a third of the Pack were infant pups and ancients.

“Us, we are Zoo Pack,” said Ezra Pound. “We are scrappers, tougher and tough.” Then he hesitated.

“The Hacker Pack,” said Evelyn War. “The alliance. There is strength in numbers. Us, we cannot scrap now.”

A hush fell over the Zoo Pack.

“Us, we could evade the battle,” said Ben Gun. “Us, we could walk Track Six north.”

“Underground, it is not safe,” said one of the lieutenants.

Ben Gun shrugged.

“Us, we were safe underground all night,” said Oscar so Wild.

The sounds from above ground grew louder. The battle raged. Aux were dying.

“Outside, it is not safe,” said Ezra Pound. “We walk underground.”

All of the Zoo packers had prepared to venture above ground, and it was easier to wear their outside clothes, blankets and pelts than it was to carry them.

For the first time, it was less comfortable underground than it was outside. The Aux loosened and unfastened as many layers of clothes as they were able and slung blankets and pelts over their shoulders. They removed caps and gloves and shoved them into pockets and belts, but still they were clammy with the sweat of too many clothes and too much activity.

Travelling should have been faster underground. It was not.

The pups whined and the ancients’ breathing suffered.

Food rations were not a problem, but even with the brackish dripping water there was not enough to quench the Zoo Pack’s thirst.

The scrappers kept to the head of the group and the rear.

There was still a constant fear of hearing the whistle of Them. If they were caught underground, there would be no escape.

They listened, but it was hard to hear anything above the noise the Zoo Pack made with the metal in their boots and the stones beneath their feet. Every footfall sent up a cacophony of echoes, and there were dozens of overlapping footfalls every second.

There was talk of removing the alterations from the boots, but the Zoo Pack would be out on the ice again at the first opportunity. Being stationary for long periods was just too dangerous. Even with the metal gone, the stones would still create enough sound to drown out any echoes.

Tension grew and paranoia began to set in. Someone called for a halt every minute or two. Adrenalin pumped, with no means of satisfaction or escape.

Pups began to bicker, and a brawl broke out between three adolescents that ended with one of them being boxed soundly around the ears by one of the scrapper dams. She hit him too hard and he was unconscious for several seconds. He came to, confused and bleeding from his ear. He became another invalid, reliant on the rest of the Pack.

Robert Browning and Ben Gun went ahead to scout Stadtmitte. Before they had even reached the platform, they found horror.

Every few metres there were signs of fighting. There were sprays of blood on the walls and chunks of leather and cloth littered the ground where armour and clothing had been sliced and rent from bodies. The tunnel smelled of death. Browning picked up a broken blade with a smear of old blood on its hilt.

There was no way to know if this had been a scrap between Aux or an attack by Them. Them left no bodies. The Aux tended to their dead. Either way, no corpses would remain in the tunnels.

“Two days or three,” he said.

They approached the platform cautiously, weapons drawn.

Ben Gun listened. He heard something.

“Noises,” he said, turning to Browning.

Browning cocked an ear, but heard nothing. He turned to face north along Track Six.

“You, did you hear the whistle? Did you hear Them?” asked Browning.

Ben Gun listened more intently.

They both heard something, but it was coming down from outside.

“Scrapping,” said Robert Browning.

“This place, is it safe to pass here?” asked Ben Gun.

“You, listen,” said Robert Browning, and he began to walk north up Track Six, picking his way through the debris left by the scrapping. He walked for two or three hundred metres while Ben Gun listened.

The pup heard nothing until Browning returned.

“You, what do you hear?” asked Browning.

“Nothing,” said the pup. “You, what did you see?”

“The track, it is safe,” said Browning.

The two looked at each other. Robert Browning had to make a decision: whether it was wiser to suffer the discomfort of the tunnels and risk hearing the whistle, or to venture above ground and possibly walk onto a battleground.

The sound of an Aux roaring in pain came to them faintly from far above their heads.

“Us, we walk Track Six,” said Robert Browning.

Tension and paranoia grew into fear and panic as Zoo Pack passed through Stadtmitte.

“Zoo Pack, us tougher and tough,” said Ezra Pound, gravely. “Zoo Pack, us scrappers.” His voice filled Track Six. “Zoo Pack, us will walk and Zoo Pack, us will stand together. Zoo Pack, us will make alliances, and get whet.”

For the first time, Evelyn War understood why Ezra Pound was Alpha dog. The packers around her began to straighten their backs and hold their heads a little higher. They began to walk a little faster. Even the infants stopped whining. Some of the younger pups got in step with one another and began to march doggedly in ranks at the centre of the Pack.

Ezra Pound instilled confidence. Confidence was what Zoo Pack needed.

“Us, we are safe,” said Walter Sickert, his melodic tones in stark contrast to Ezra Pound’s strong, low voice. “Us, we meet Hacker Pack at Friedrichstrasse.”

The Zoo Pack stopped for nothing. Aux were sent ahead to scout service tunnels and to listen. They were sent to check platforms and to monitor sounds from outside.

There were always sounds. Outside was a battleground. Outside the Aux were scrapping some unknowable foe. Underground, there had been battles too. At every platform there were signs of conflict. Blood sprays smeared every surface, a bolt was found embedded in a wall, and two or three more broken blades turned up on the track.

Oscar so Wild retrieved a bandolier almost full of good crossbow bolts and slung it around his body. They never found a single corpse.

A crossbow bolt hit the wall centimetres from Dorothy Barker’s shoulder. She was crouching close to the tunnel wall, moving with as much stealth as she could towards the platform at Friedrichstrasse. Alan Stiletto was moving with equal caution along the opposite side of the tunnel.

They were within twenty metres of the end of the platform. A number of bodies lay on it, covered in blankets. They did not know until the bolt hit whether the bodies were corpses or not.

Dorothy Barker ducked and breathed hard. She shouted, knowing that the second bolt would not miss her.

“Zoo Pack!” she said. “Friends! Allies!”

The bodies under the blankets began to stir. A moment later, Dorothy could clearly see half a dozen crossbows pointing in her direction. She was dead if they wanted her dead.

“Me, I’m standing up,” she said. “Us, we’re both standing up.” She pointed to where Alan Stiletto was crouching against the opposite wall. She was confident that they hadn’t spotted him yet in the shadows, but she wanted to show that she was being honest with them.

The Aux on the platform looked twitchy. She didn’t want to make them even more paranoid and risk an attack.

Dorothy Barker stood slowly, her crossbow held at arm’s length away from her body. She had removed the bolt. Alan Stiletto did likewise.

Someone on the platform stood, still aiming her crossbow. It was a large dam Aux.

“Zoo Pack?” she asked.

“Dorothy Barker, Zoo Pack,” said Dorothy. “You, listen,” she said. “Zoo Pack, all of us, walk all-away around to Hacker Pack. Us, we walk all-away around to talk.”

The faint echo of the rumble and scrape of footfalls could be heard in the distance down Track Six.

The Aux dam gestured to a scrapper still on his belly, his crossbow aimed. The Aux stood, never giving up his aim, and then backed away before disappearing into one of the service tunnels.

There followed a pause, then several brief calls that reverberated around the space, filling the platform and tunnels.

Dorothy Barker reflected that the Zoo Pack would also hear the call. She turned to face back down the tunnel. When the echoes from the call had receded, she listened again for the rumbles of the Zoo Pack’s footfalls.

The Track Six tunnel was silent.

Zoo Pack had stopped. When she turned back to face the platform, it was full of Hacker scrappers, armed and ready for action. Some of them were obviously carrying new injuries, with dressed wounds as well as scabs and bruises on full view. They only added to their fierce appearance.

A huge Aux with a long, healing blade wound on his face stepped forward, flanked by two lieutenants. He was their leader, Alpha dog.

“Ezra Pound, him is still Alpha dog of Zoo Pack?” he asked.

“Ezra Pound, him is Alpha dog,” said Dorothy Parker. “Him leads Zoo Pack to you. Him tougher and tough.”

“Him got the bone for it, to scrap Holeman Hunt. Him got the bone to take Hacker Pack?” asked the Alpha dog.

“Warschauer Pack, them gone, deader and dead,” said Dorothy Barker. “Dammed Pack, them gone, deader and dead. Ezra Pound, him wants an alliance with Holeman Hunt. There is strength in numbers.”

Holeman Hunt looked hard at Dorothy Barker. The Alpha dog’s shoulders dropped slightly, as if he was exhausted. Then he filled his chest and stood tall. He turned to the Aux on his left and said, “You, bring Zoo Pack in. You, bring Ezra Pound in. Me, I will talk with Zoo Pack Alpha dog.”

“Me, I’ll bring them,” said Dorothy Barker. She gestured at Alan Stiletto to join her at the centre of the tunnel. She was determined that there would be no more bloodshed.

They slung their crossbows over their backs, slipped their bolts into their bandoliers and began to return down the track towards Zoo Pack, with a score of crossbows aimed at their backs.

Zoo Pack heard the Hacker Pack call.

All Aux packs had calls, but each pack’s calls were unique. There was no way to know what the call meant as it reached the ears of the Zoo Pack scrappers walking a dozen metres ahead of the main Pack. There was no way to know whether Dorothy Barker and Alan Stiletto were safe. Zoo Pack stopped and waited. There was no turning back.

The Zoo Pack scrappers fell into ranks across the width of the tunnel, armed and ready. The rest of the Pack took shelter as best it could behind them.

They could hear the Hacker Aux walking south down Track Six towards them. At least a dozen of them, possibly two dozen. Soon they could see their grey shapes moving against the still grey of the tunnel walls and the paler grey of the track.

“Me, I’m going to shout my name,” said Dorothy Barker over her shoulder.

“You, shout nothing else,” said the Hacker lieutenant immediately behind her.

“Dorothy Barker!” shouted Dorothy.

The tunnel filled with her name and its echoes. It sounded strange to her.

“It’s her, Dorothy,” said Robert Browning in the front rank of the Zoo Pack scrappers.

No one answered. Silence must be maintained. Robert Browning should not have spoken. All but the paranoid and the truly sceptical were relieved, however. Dorothy was at too great a distance, and the echoes overlapped too much for them to be able to discern whether it was her voice that had spoken, but it was her name. There was no reason for any Aux to call out Dorothy’s name for any ill purpose.

The grey shapes grew closer in the gloom.

At about twenty metres distance, crossbows raised and aimed on both sides, Ezra Pound stepped through the ranks of his scrappers.

“Me, I am Ezra Pound,” he said. “Alpha dog, leader of Zoo Pack. Come to make alliance with Holeman Hunt. You, Hacker Pack, shoot or stand down.”

Dorothy Barker began to walk towards Ezra Pound, who gestured to his scrappers to lower their weapons. The Zoo Packers looked to one another, confused, unwilling to give up their arms.

It was Oscar so Wild and Robert Browning who dropped their crossbows first. Others began to follow suit.

“Hacker Pack scrappers, them have come to bring Zoo Pack to Friedrichstrasse,” said Dorothy Barker. “Holeman Hunt, him will speak with Ezra Pound.”

Many of the Hacker Pack scrappers had also lowered their weapons. All but a few diehard Aux lieutenants, who dropped their crossbows to chest height, but continued to aim them at Zoo Pack.

“Walter Sickert, you were right, again,” said Ben Gun to his friend.

“Me, I am never right,” said Walter Sickert. “Me, I only Hear the Voice.”

The Hacker packers spread out to line the tunnel, surrounding the Zoo Pack on all sides to escort them back to Friedrichstrasse.

The Zoo pack scrappers also spread themselves among their more vulnerable pack members, and by the time they had reached the station, many of them had managed to exchange information with some of the Hackers.

Word began to spread through the Zoo Pack about the noises they had heard outside.