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5. Down to the Cellar
The two girls crept out into the estate night.
“Quick,” Za
“This is mad,” hissed Deeba, but she moved as quickly as her friend, in the same half-bent run. “We don’t even have a flashlight.”
“Yeah but we’ve got to look,” Za
“So it was some sort of remote control thing, i
“Come help me,” Za
“What you doing?”
“Looking for something,” Za
“What?”
Za
“There’s going to be rats and stuff,” Deeba said. “Leave it.”
“Look,” said Za
The smear, just faintly visible, stretched from the rubbish tip, towards the dark ground-floor windows of Za
“That thing. These are its tracks.”
Za
“Yeah, see?” she said. “You can see scratch-marks. Where it’s dug in with its…you know…metal points.”
“If you say,” said Deeba. “Let’s go. ”
“Look. It was watching, or listening or whatever, at mine. Now we can see where it went.”
“We don’t even know what we’re after.” Deeba followed Za
“You blatantly look like a mad person,” Deeba whispered. “If anyone sees you, what they going to think?”
“Who cares? Anyway, there’s no one. If there was, I’d be out of here.”
“I don’t even see nothing.”
“Marks,” Za
She headed into the backs of the estate, between the brown concrete of those huge buildings. They were heading deep into the dead zones behind all the towers, into a maze of walls, bins, garages, and rubbish. Deeba looked around nervously.
“Come on, Za
“I’ve got a feeling…” Za
“This way…” she said, glancing down without slowing. In fact, she looked now as if she were following a memory, or an instinct, rather than a trail. She wound between the enormous buildings, lit here and there by inadequate yellow lights.
“I can’t see it,” Deeba said anxiously. “There’s nothing.”
“Yes, there is,” said Za
“Za
The main road was just out of sight: even at this hour, they could hear traffic. Za
“Wait!” said Deeba, and came up behind her.
In front of them, in the base of one of the monoliths, surrounded by puddles of pretty oily water, below a weakly shining lamp, the girls saw a door. It was ajar. On its threshold, even Deeba could see it was marked with a smear of oil.
“No way,” Deeba said, eyeing Za
Za
“Is anyone there?” Za
“We are going, ” Deeba said. “There’s nothing here.”
Pipes and wires ran along the walls, and meters ticked.
“Hello?” Za
The corridor ended in a huge basement. It must have stretched underneath almost the whole tower block[25] . Along its walls were old tools; there was rope in thick puddles; and sacks; and rusted bicycles; and a dried-out warmed-up fridge. Here and there were faint illuminations, and the light from streetlamps came through the filthy windows. The girls could hear the moan of traffic.
In the middle of the room was a pillar of pipes, where needles jerked up and down on gauges, and pressure was cha
“Let’s go,” whispered Deeba. “This place is scary.”
But, slowly, Za
“Za
“There’s more oil,” Za
She touched the big spigot experimentally.
“ ‘…when the wheel turns,’ ” she said.
“What?” said Deeba. “Come on. You coming?” She turned her back. Za
It moved slowly at first. She had to strain. It squeaked against rust.
As it went, something happened to the light.
Deeba froze. Za
The light began to change. It was flickering. All the sound in the room was ebbing. Deeba turned back.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
Za
“No,” said Deeba. “Stop. Please.”
Za
The iron wheel began to spin, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The room grew darker.
“You’re turning off the electricity,” Deeba said, but then she was silent, as she and Za
As the light lessened, so did the sound.
Deeba and Za
Za
Za
It was turning off London.
[25]
Tower block: Big apartment block.