The aquarium had been wheeled backstage sometime during the day. Ricky was dozing, but the thunderous rolling of the structure and the squealing protests of the wheels woke him up. Grimshaw’s assistants swarmed over it like brown-overalled larvae, heaving and pushing it through the labyrinth of cages. Despite their efforts, it seemed hard to believe that it was possible to move the Pool of Pain. Water lapped over the sides as the assistants manoeuvred it into the corner of the room directly beneath his cage.
If anything, Ricky was more unnerved by the aquarium beneath him than he had been by the hard stone floor. He had heard the shouts and screams from the main hall the night before, and he knew that the black shapes shifting ceaselessly beneath the surface had been responsible. Feeding time was worst of all. Even from thirty feet in the air, the thrashing and the foaming, and the spreading inkblots of blood on the water, were a terrible sight. And Ricky couldn’t help notice that Grimshaw was always on hand to feed the fishes, doling out scoops of meat from his bucket. He hummed happily to himself as carnage filled the pool.
Ricky tried to spend most of his time asleep, as if he might somehow wake up back in his bedroom at home, with a bottle of Coke, a packet of crisps and a new comic sitting on his bedside table. It never happened, of course. He spent his time awake staring listlessly out over the hall, with only the hollers and squawks of the animals for company. Some of the chimps waved and stared dolefully back at him, as if they understood how he felt.
Then Marianne and the giant had returned, and everything had changed. Ricky gaped through the bars with fear when he saw the skinny, brown-haired boy being frogmarched between them. He knew who that had to be. The party made their way up to the walkway surrounding the aquarium, and positioned themselves directly beneath his cage.
Whoever the new boy was, he was brave. He stood up straight and looked directly into Grimshaw’s terrible eyes, in a way that Ricky could never have dreamed of doing. When Marianne and Grimshaw had left the room, he had said something to the giant that had earned him a shuddering cuff. It was then that Ricky realized that he had to do something, or they were all dead.
He couldn’t explain what made him take off his jacket and begun to wriggle his way through the bars of his cage. The blood was racing through his veins, and his heart felt like it was going to burst, but his head was strangely clear. He inched out between the bars, and swung his feet round to the narrow ledge on the outside the cage. It wasn’t that difficult. A detached voice inside his head guessed that because the cage was so high up, they hadn’t worried about the gap between the bars being wider than those that imprisoned the animals on the floor.
The shifting of his weight had made the cage sway from side to side. Ricky could feel the air brushing his face. The mute was directly below him – but such a long way down. A splinter of doubt entered his mind for the first time. This was crazy. There was no way he could be sure he’d survive the fall. Ricky was thinking about slipping between the bars and back into the cage when a howler monkey on the ground, seeing the funny human swinging through the air, pointed up at the ceiling and screamed with amusement. Humble began to tilt his head upwards. Everything became very simple then. Ricky screwed his eyes tightly shut and jumped into the air.
The sheer time it took to drop surprised him. It must have lasted only a few seconds, but it felt much longer than that. As the world whizzed past his ears, Ricky could feel momentum building, could feel himself getting heavier and heavier. There was no fear any more, no pleasure either. He thought that he could have carried on dropping for ever, like falling off the side of the world. Then, brutally, he crashed into Humble, and everything went black.
At first the shock of the cold water was the only thing that Jonathan’s system could register. His instinct for survival taking over, he kicked for the surface, breaking the waves with a splutter. He wiped the wet hair from out of his eyes and surveyed the scene. He had fallen close to the side of pool, within easy reach of the walkway. Humble was nowhere to be seen, but there was a boy in the water near the far end of the pool. He wasn’t moving.
With a shiver of horror, Jonathan remembered the barracudas. He had to get out of here. Frantically scanning the water, he saw a dark shape cutting through the water towards him at high speed. Jonathan launched himself into a front crawl and made for the side of the pool. He was a good swimmer, and he only had a small distance to cover, but the barracuda was designed for underwater pursuit, and as he hauled himself out of the water, it managed to close the gap and fasten its jaws around Jonathan’s foot. He shouted with pain, and hung on to the walkway rail to avoid being dragged back into the pool. Twisting his body round, he managed to smash his other foot on to the barracuda’s head, which was protruding above the surface. His kick connected well enough to make it release its grip, and the fish slunk back into the depths.
Jonathan dragged himself on to the walkway and away from the edge of the water. That had been too close. His trainer had been cut to shreds in the attack, and his ankle was bleeding badly. A sudden flash of silver in the water caught his eye, and he realized that, in the mad dash for safety, his knife had slipped from his pocket and was now sinking to the bottom of the pool. His only weapon in this hellhole was gone. For one crazy second Jonathan thought above diving in to retrieve it, but he managed to stop himself in time. There were more important things to think about. The other boy was still lying in the water, and the barracuda were beginning to circle around him. Jonathan had no idea what to do. There was no way that he could jump in and save him – they would both be dead meat. He looked around for some kind of pole to drag him to safety, but there was nothing of the sort to hand. The barracuda were nearing their target. He couldn’t watch.
With a massive whoosh Humble broke the surface of the Pool of Pain, his long arms flailing desperately. A mini tidal wave surged away from body and crashed into the walkway. The giant was having problems keeping himself afloat, and his head kept disappearing back under the water. His flailing movements immediately caught the attention of the barracuda, and they made a beeline for him.
Jonathan realized that this was his chance. He hobbled round the side of the pool, keeping his weight on his good ankle. The first barracuda darted in at Humble, who tried to shift out of the way. He didn’t move quickly enough, and as the fish snapped at his fingers he opened his mouth and let out a silent cry of pain. The power and speed that he had displayed on dry land was gone now. He was vulnerable, and the barracuda knew it.
Trying not to attract any attention, Jonathan lowered himself slowly into the water. He stroked smoothly towards the boy, his ankle throbbing in protest at the exertion. The water was choppy with the battle between Humble and the barracuda. Foam flicked up into his eyes as he swam. He reached the boy, who stirred slightly as Jonathan put an arm around his neck in a life-saving hold and began to drag him back to the side.
The onslaught of the barracuda against Humble continued mercilessly. The mute giant struggled on, blood seeping out from a series of wounds. Occasionally his hands would fasten on to one of the fish, and he would wring the life out of it. But they kept on coming, and he was running out of energy.
On the other side of the pool, it was slow going, and Jonathan had to rely on his legs to propel them both. As he kicked out he saw the trail of blood dripping from his ankle, and knew that they were in trouble. Sensing the blood in the water, one of the barracuda turned and arrowed after it. Jonathan redoubled his efforts, but the boy he was dragging was heavy and they were still far from the walkway.
“Wake up!” he shouted in the boy’s ear. “You’ve got to wake up!”
The boy’s eyelids fluttered in response. He would probably come round just in time to be devoured. Jonathan took a quick glance at the side. They were eight or nine strokes away. Another barracuda had separated itself from the main pack and was making for them.
“WAKE UP!”
The boy’s eyes flicked open, and he began coughing.
“Swim!” Jonathan shouted again. “Swim to the side! Hurry!”
Reacting as if on autopilot, the boy began paddling. Freed from his dead weight, Jonathan made powerfully for the edge of the pool. Behind him, the fish were moving at terrifying speed, their sleek bodies bisecting the waves. Drawing on his last reserves of strength he pulled himself out of the pool for the second time, and looked for the other boy.
Despite his confusion, the boy was nearing safety. Jonathan stretched out an arm and shouted at him. “Come on! They’re gaining on you!”
The boy moaned and tried to paddle faster. As the first barracuda zeroed in on his leg, he made one last surge through the water. Jonathan’s fingers latched on to his arm and yanked him up towards the walkway. The sudden movement took the barracuda by surprise, and its swoop missed the intended target. The boy scrabbled up and on to the walkway and lay coughing and spitting water.
Jonathan hauled him up by the arms. “We have to get out of here,” he urged. “They’ll be back in a minute.”
The boy nodded, and staggered to his feet. Bruised, battered and bleeding, the pair of them hobbled off the top of the walkway and back down among the cages. In the water, the surviving barracudas attacked the giant with renewed vigour.
From the other side of the hall there was a huge uproar, and Jonathan pressed the boy against the side of an antelope’s cage. Marianne raced past at speed. “Humble!” she screamed. “Hold on! I’m coming!”
She raced up the steps and dived into the Pool of Pain, her brilliant white hair flashing like a shooting star. Jonathan glanced left and right, and made for a door on the left hand wall. The boy tugged his sleeve and pointed at the cages around them.
“The . . . animals,” he panted. “We shouldn’t . . . leave them.”
Jonathan shook his head. “There’s no time. We’ve got to get out of here.”
He dragged the boy through the door, and they found themselves back in the curving red corridor. It was deathly quiet now; only the faintest of muffled shouts could be heard from the main hall. There was no one in sight. A cabinet in front of them was empty, and there were shards of glass sprinkled on the floor. Jonathan leant against the wall, and as he caught his breath, exchanged names with Ricky.
“Thanks for that, mate. That was some jump. You could have killed yourself!”
Ricky looked abashed. “Guess so. It looked like we were both dead anyway, so I didn’t really think about it.” He paused, looking around. “This place is horrible. Where are we?”
“I’ll tell you all about it when we get out of here. You aren’t going to believe it, though.”
Suddenly a hulking shape emerged from the gloom in front of them. Ricky let out a blood-curdling scream.