Part 18 (2/2)

How long he stood there, watching the ground bubble and heave and eventually come to rest, he did not know. He was aware of the Doctor standing close by, hands folded in front of him, head bowed, like a graveside mourner. He was aware of the hot rain on his face mingling with the tears. He was aware of nothing else.

Until the eruption.

They both looked up at once. It was the loudest thing s...o...b..ld had ever heard. A terrific explosion echoing across from the moors. At the same moment the ground beneath them shook with such force that s...o...b..ld was sent staggering. He collided with the Doctor who was also struggling to stay upright. They held each other, braced themselves, feet apart until the tremor ceased.

'What the devil was that?' he breathed.

'The devil is perhaps right,' the Doctor answered as he stepped away. He pointed across s...o...b..ld's shoulder, out on to the moor. Towards the fissure.

The whole sky was alight. A curtain of flame was shooting up towards a blood red moon. Sparks and dust spun and twisted out from it and they could feel the raw heat, the nascent power of the blast before the flames settled back and the sky began to clear.

'h.e.l.lfire, would you say?' the Doctor asked.

'Or a volcano.'

The rain was solid now. Hot particles of dust and ash that settled on their wet clothes and caked their faces like powder. There was a sulphurous, clammy stench to the acrid air.

The Doctor raised a hand to his face, and pinched at the bridge of his nose. 'I am so sorry,' he said. 'So very sorry.'

s...o...b..ld looked down again at the patch of broken ground where his daughter was buried. Entombed. It was already dusted with ash, like a sprinkling of grey snow.

'I should have realised long ago,' the Doctor went on, and it occurred to s...o...b..ld that he was apologising for something quite different. When the Doctor looked across at him, his face seemed drained of colour. A late drop of rain traced a path through the dust and down his cheek. 'I should have seen it at once. As soon as I saw the fissure.'

'Seen what?'

'Even the place names are a clue.' He appeared not to have heard. 'Brans...o...b..*sub*Edge, don't you see?'

s...o...b..ld shook his head. His stomach was heaving and he ached all over. One side of his face felt stiff and sore.

'It's on the rim, lower than the old river bed. The whole of the moor is lower than the surrounding countryside. And Middletown is right in the centre, at the bottom of the basin.'

'The ground dips,' s...o...b..ld agreed. His voice was calm and controlled, though his whole body was shaking. 'We all know that. It's to do with the water table, the moorland.' He shrugged. 'The composition of the rocks.'

But the Doctor was shaking his head. 'It's nothing of the sort. It's a caldera.'

'A what?' He was fighting to stop his teeth from chattering despite the heat of the air.

The Doctor turned back towards the fissure. The sky was no longer burning, but there was a glow, as if the ground beneath it were on fire. 'The basin formed by a volcanic eruption. By the flow of magma, of molten lava.'

s...o...b..ld's mouth was open. But his brain was numb. He said nothing.

'Like a flood plain,' the Doctor went on. 'Only we know what it will soon be flooded with.'

They stared at each other in the firelit night. 'Oh my G.o.d in Heaven,' s...o...b..ld breathed.

Chapter Sixteen.

A Death in the Family There was an abandoned warehouse at the edge of Middletown. Lord Urton had acquired it recently and now it contained the forge and machinery to produce Sir William Grant's field guns. The first batch of six was ready for collection, and Colonel Wilson watched as they were fastened to the teams of horses that stood patiently outside the huge warehouse doors.

They had been waiting since early evening for the final adjustments to be made, and he had considered more than once going back to Ambleton to return the next day. But every time he asked, the foreman a.s.sured him they were almost ready now. just a few more minutes. Really.

Wilson was facing across town, towards the distant moorland, when the abyss erupted. He saw it before he heard it, glancing across at Captain Brookes, satisfying himself that Brookes had seen it too. Then the sound reached them. At first it was rumble. then it built rapidly to a roaring explosive thunderclap that made them cover their ears as they staggered to keep their balance. But they could not look away.

The dark sky was split by the rising column of flame. It rose slowly, majestically through the night before the top of the column began to tilt and bend as if buckling under its own weight. As it fell back, clouds of white hot steam rose to join the flames, racing across the sky behind the spreading fire, as if driven by the wind. Before long the whole of the night sky was a swirling ma.s.s of steam and fire. Then the ash began to fall.

The streets began to fill with people as well as ash and dust. They came out of their houses, mostly still in their nightclothes, staring up at the firelit sky. With the noise and the flickering orange glow in the heavens, many of them believed it was the end of the world.

The sound died back to a low roar. Wilson found he was running along the street, shouting for his men to follow, shouting for people to stay in their houses and not to worry. Brookes was close beside him, also shouting, though Wilson could not hear his voice. Whether this was because the noise was still too loud or because their ears were numbed by the initial blast, he could not tell.

The eruption lasted almost an hour. It faded far more slowly than it had begun, the sky glowing a deep orange that lit the smoky streets with a dull, diffuse light. The people seemed to calm as the noise dropped. Wilson and his men were able to rea.s.sure them, to guide them back to their homes.

Looking along the streets, Wilson saw that everything was once again coated, as it had been earlier. But this was not snow and slush, this was a powdery ash, fine and grey. It rose in puffs where you trod, it clogged the nostrils and the mouth and clung to the back of the throat. It smelled of sulphur and it dusted Wilson's uniform so that he was clothed in nondescript grey. His rank, his status, his profession were all masked by the fine powder. Everyone became the same, even their greyed faces looked similar. All individuality taken away by the ash.

As soon as he could spare someone, he sent a runner back to Ambleton to check on the situation there. They had no way of telling how far the eruption had reached, but if Ambleton was relatively unaffected, then he could get reinforcements. Or if not, then Ambleton would still need to know the situation in Middletown. Perhaps the whole of this part of the country was affected.

It was impossible to tell when dawn arrived. But the sun was visible now through the thick air, burning weakly above the horizon.

Other than keeping people calm, it was difficult to know quite what was to be done. Wilson and his men made their way through the streets, rea.s.suring people and trying to seem knowledgeable about what was going on. It was not the Apocalypse, they told them; h.e.l.l was not coming to Middletown; the end was nothing like nigh.

So it was with a sense of relief that Wilson saw a familiar figure emerge from the Post Office ahead of him. The Reverend s...o...b..ld. With him was the Doctor, whom Wilson had met at the dam.

'Reverend, sir!' Wilson called as he run up. Clouds of dust erupted from his feet as he ran. 'We're trying to keep people calm. sir,' he said breathlessly as he reached them. 'But perhaps some words from yourself? A meeting of some sort to rea.s.sure people that this isn't the fires of h.e.l.l breaking loose?'

s...o...b..ld seemed drawn, old. He seemed grey even beneath the dust, Wilson saw. And there was a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked at the soldiers.

It was the Doctor who spoke. 'There isn't time to arrange a meeting,' he said. His voice was quiet but authoritative. 'If we're lucky, there may be time to evacuate the town.'

'Evacuate?' Brookes said in surprise.

'Explain please, Doctor,' Wilson said.

The Doctor took his jacket off and shook it. A dust storm swirled in the air, choking and dry. When he put his jacket back on, the Doctor was the only person in sight who was not uniformly grey a splash of individual colour in the drab world of Middletown.

'That was a minor eruption,' he said.

'Minor?!'

'A precursor to the main event.'

'You mean,' Wilson asked slowly, 'that there is more to come?'

'Oh much more. This is just the beginning.' He turned to look at s...o...b..ld, as if to get his agreement with what he was about to say. 'Colonel Wilson, despite your rea.s.surances, it may well be that the fires of h.e.l.l are indeed breaking loose. And I emphatically suggest that you get everyone you can away from here before they consume us all.'

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