Flash Flood

Chapter Thirty

Ben had a torch in each hand. He switched them on and played them over the walls of the darkened stairwell. The torches were really powerful, highlighting the footprints he and Eva had left earlier. He leaned over the banister and shone them all the way down to the ground floor. It was so nice not to be creeping around dark places any more. He was warm and dry, and he had light. He felt on top of the world.

They were on the fourth floor, where Eva was trying to find a toilet that wasn’t too disgusting.

Down below in the stairwell, Ben heard a bang and a scrape. Then voices. There were people moving about on one of the floors below.

Eva came up behind him, zipping up her drysuit. ‘What was that?’

‘I don’t know.’ He went down the steps a little way and shone the lights down. ‘Hello?’

‘Probably someone else getting warm gear,’ said Eva. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

As they started down the stairs, they saw that the swing door to the diving department was propped open with a scuba tank on a black harness. A man in a rubberized drysuit came out carrying another tank and put it down on the tiled floor.

Ben stopped and turned the torches off. Eva bumped into him.

‘What?’ she said loudly.

‘Ssh,’ Ben whispered. ‘I’ve seen those guys before. They were looting in Piccadilly just before you found me. They’re not nice.’

In the light from the window, he realized that Eva’s expression looked angry. ‘They saw you like that and they didn’t help you?’

Ben watched the man go back in before replying. ‘They thought I was drunk. And they were trying to smash their way into a jeweller’s.’

Eva stared after the man.

Ben didn’t like the look on her face. He took a pinch of her wetsuit to pull her down the stairs.

She followed reluctantly, still brooding about his story. ‘You don’t leave someone who’s got hypothermia.’

‘Look,’ whispered Ben, ‘that’s not as bad as the guy who locked me in a cellar that was filling with water. It’s just been one of those days. Come on — if we’re quick they won’t see us.’

Carefully they went down the staircase. Once they were past Eva looked back at the tanks.

‘What do they want those for?’

Ben shrugged. ‘I guess there’s some more jewellery they couldn’t get. Maybe they’re planning to dive for it.’

Eva spun on her heel and skipped back up the steps. She bent over the tank and twisted a valve. There was a hiss as gas began to escape.

Ben sprinted back up after her. ‘What are you doing?’ He put his hand on the tap and tried to close it. ‘You can’t do that. Someone might get hurt.’

‘They left you in a state where you could have died. I’m going to make sure they find it difficult to get away with any more booty.’ She turned the tap to open again. This time she kept her hand on the valve so he couldn’t close it again.

Ben took hold of her by the shoulders and shook her. ‘Stop it. What if they’re using these to help with a rescue?’ Eva put her hand out to grab the banisters and the air tank rolled towards the top step.

Ben tried to grab the harness but he missed, and it rolled easily, bouncing down the tiled steps with a loud metallic clang.

A figure appeared in the doorway, a sledgehammer raised above his head. Ben saw it descending towards him and rolled out of the way, knocking the other air tank over.

As he did so, the regulator snapped off the top, which released the pressure through the tiny hole — and turned the heavy metal air tank into a rocket.

Ben ducked just in time. The tank torpedoed past his ear and carried on through the thick wooden banisters, smashing a hole and hissing loudly. It ploughed into the wall and veered off, splintering wood and shattering glass.

Ben was crouched against the wall, his head cradled in his arms. He opened one eye and looked down.

He couldn’t see Eva, but he noticed a deep dent in the wall, as though a car had crashed into it. Plaster and brickwork crumbled down into the stairwell. The other tank sat hissing and spinning in a circle on the half landing below. Eva must have succeeded in loosening the regulator.

Suddenly Ben’s head was crushed in a painful grip. ‘You little twerp. What do you think you are, some kind of crimefighter?’

Ben twisted his head round and saw the looter reaching for the sledgehammer. He kicked it out of the way and knocked the looter over. The two of them crashed down the stairs — down towards the other tank.

‘Ben!’ yelled Eva’s voice. ‘Get away from it!’

Oh, that’s brilliant, thought Ben. How exactly do I do that? He caught sight of the man’s partner in the doorway, keeping his distance.

The looter had him around the throat. He tried to pull away but the man’s grip was strong. The tank spun in a circle, smashing into his shins and knees. The looter pushed Ben’s face closer to the whirling tank. He continued to struggle, wondering if this tank was about to go off like a rocket too? He managed to grab the banister to pull himself away, but it snapped immediately.

He could hear Eva screaming: ‘Get off him, get off him!’ She was down below him. How had she managed to get down there when he had ended up grappling on the landing?

The looter lost his grip on Ben’s collar and grabbed at his head. Ben wrenched himself free, leaving his neoprene cap behind. The whirling cylinder was still spinning round between them. The looter kicked out at it and Ben flattened himself against the wall as it clattered past him.

A sound from below made the whole group freeze. A voice talking over a radio.

‘Do you copy?’

‘Possible intruder action,’ came the reply. ‘Proceeding with caution.’

There were footsteps coming up the stairs. Torches played over the walls and between the banisters.

The looters looked at each other in horror. They forgot about Ben and Eva and scrambled up the stairs again. Something glittery slid out of the man’s pocket and caught on the edge of the banisters for a moment, then slithered into the blackness.

The footsteps stopped. There was a scraping noise as something was picked up off the floor. ‘Sir, we’ve got what looks like a very valuable necklace here. There are looters in the store.’

There was a loud crack. It was the kind of noise that not many people hear in real life, but when they do they know exactly what it means. It was followed by a smell of smoke and gunpowder, like a firework going off.

They had just been shot at.