Part 23 (2/2)

They faced each other for a moment, Grant's eyes burning with anger. He smiled. His face twisted into an approximation of amus.e.m.e.nt as he pulled off his gloves. When he raised his hands, when he started towards Wilson, his fingers were already outstretched, already smouldering.

s...o...b..ld was fixed to the spot, staring, as Grant approached. Wilson too seemed unable to move. He was at the edge of the dam, Grant's hands closing on his neck.

Captain Brookes was a blur of motion. He launched himself in front of his superior officer, grabbing Grant's hands in both his own and forcing them away. There was a sudden loud hiss and steam erupted from their clasped hands. Brookes screamed with pain, but held on, pus.h.i.+ng Grant back towards the railing along the top of the dam. As s...o...b..ld watched, their locked hands exploded into flame. In a moment, the whole of Grant's body was an inferno. Brookes was leaning back, out of the fire. The side of his face closest was blistering, the skin melting and peeling away as he continued to scream.

Then slowly, deliberately, he seemed to lean back into the fire. His whole weight was brought to bear on the raging fire, forcing it back against the railing. Brookes's screams were lost in the roaring of the fire as it engulfed him. But still it was forced backwards.

With a sudden wrench of twisting metal, the railing gave way. One end flopped aside, dripping molten iron to the concrete surface of the walkway. Another section of the rail fell, clattering against the side of the dam as it bounced and rolled its way to the rocky ground far below.

A second after it, the burning fireball followed. An arm emerged for a moment as the fire spun and tumbled. A smouldering, blackened arm from which the uniform had been all but stripped away along with the flesh beneath.

s...o...b..ld was at the edge, where the railing had been, leaning as far as he dared to see the flames spreading out along the bottom of the dam. s...o...b..ld felt himself stumble as he felt the heat on his face, felt Wilson pull him back from the edge.

'Are you all right, sir?'

s...o...b..ld nodded, his throat too dry to speak.

Wilson turned immediately to his men, standing behind them watching in silence. 'Place whatever charges we have,' he said. 'I want a concentrated blast at the weakest point, we'll let the water do the rest. And I want it done ten minutes ago, understand?'

When he joined s...o...b..ld, his eyes were moist. 'I wish I had done it ten minutes ago,' he said quietly. 'Let's hope we're not already too late.'

At the base of the dam the fire thinned and spread. Like burning oil it ran liquid along the ground, discarding the charred and broken remains of Brookes's body. It raged and flared for a full minute. Then it seemed to draw back into itself. The flames died, to reveal a smouldering viscous ma.s.s at the centre of the fire. The edges were already black with a thin crust of solidifying rock.

Slowly, carefully, inexorably, the molten creature began to flow up the surface of the dam.

They worked almost in silence. s...o...b..ld was impressed with the efficiency of Wilson's men. Despite being obviously tired they set to with enthusiasm and determination.

After several minutes, several of the soldiers had managed to create a demolition charge from the powder and grenades a backpack full of the explosives with a fuse hanging out of the side. The problem now, Wilson told s...o...b..ld, was how and where to place it.

After some discussion it was agreed that the weakest point of the dam would be in the very middle, where the strain was greatest. The curvature would also help once there was a hole, funnelling the water through. The sheer weight of water trying to escape would then finish the job. In theory.

'The problem is,' Wilson said, 'that blowing a hole in the top of the dam is no use at all. It has to be below the water line.'

'How do you get down far enough to place your charge?' s...o...b..ld asked.

'How indeed?' Wilson shouted to one of the soldier: 'Carter you got any rope? We'll need to lower a man down to position the charge.'

'Can't you just lower the charge?' s...o...b..ld asked cautiously, worried he might be betraying his ignorance.

Wilson considered this. 'Provided the rope doesn't burn through before the full detonation. In that case the charge would simply drop down the side and make a nasty scratch. Ideally we want it fixed in place, tight against the wall.'

Carter was there with the rope. He caught the end of the conversation. 'We really need some way of focusing the blast into the masonry, sir,' he said. 'Otherwise it will just bounce off and do very little damage.'

This provoked another discussion. But it seemed that there was little available that would serve to focus the power of the explosion on to the dam.

'The best we can hope for then, sir, is that it's sufficient to weaken the structure and let the water start to leak through,' Carter said.

It did not, s...o...b..ld thought, sound very promising. But he kept his thoughts to himself and left them to it. Looking out from the top of the dam it seemed to him that the smoke below was deepening. Yet the fire was just as visible, burning perhaps even more fiercely. And it seemed to stretch further than it had. On the other side of the dam he could see that the ice in the reservoir had melted. In several places the water was beginning to bubble.

He turned back towards Middletown, or rather where Middletown should be beneath the yellow*tinged glow of the smoke. He shook his head in disbelief and depression. He was tired, so very tired. He leaned down and rested his head on his hands as they gripped the railing. His eyes were closed. If only he could wake up back at the Rectory, wake up to a breakfast prepared by Betty.

Poor Betty. So young. So very young.

With a long sigh he opened his tired eyes, but he did not yet lift his head.

Something was moving. Down towards the base of the dam there was movement, a glow. He tried to focus on it. No it was closer than he had thought, perhaps half way up. Not a single point, but a flowing, climbing ma.s.s spreading up over the dam. A river of glowing magma rolling upwards, towards him.

s...o...b..ld straightened up abruptly. 'Colonel Wilson!' he shouted. 'I think your men should hurry!'

They did hurry. Wilson took one quick look over the side of the dam where s...o...b..ld was pointing, then ordered the explosive pack to be lowered.

'We have to set it off before that stuff reaches the waterline,' he said urgently. 'Once it's above that, we have no chance. It's hot enough to burn through the rope and the backpack, the explosives will just fall out.'

The fuse was lit, and the backpack hastily lowered over the side.

'How long is the fuse?' s...o...b..ld asked as he leaned over the rail to watch the package being lowered into position. The rail s.h.i.+fted slightly under his weight, the supports weakened from the break further along.

'Two minutes, more or less,' Wilson told him. He waved to the man lowering the rope to tell him to stop. 'Right, tie it off there.'

'Why so long? Why not set it off immediately?'

The soldiers were tying the rope to the railing, right in the centre of the dam.

'Because,' Wilson explained, 'we don't want to be standing on the dam when the charge goes off.'

'Ah.' s...o...b..ld turned to gauge the distance to the side of the dam, to the ground beyond. They were almost in the middle. It was several hundred yards. 'Two minutes more or less, you said?'

The soldiers pa.s.sed him at a run.

'That's what I said,' Wilson said as he pushed s...o...b..ld into a stumbling run ahead of him. 'And it's been burning for a minute already.'

Neither of them looked back until they reached the high ground at the side of the dam. It rose slowly away from the structure, affording them a view back at the dam. s...o...b..ld could see the diminutive backpack hanging by a fine thread. A tiny spark at the edge of the pack showed how close the fuse had burned. But below the charge, clawing its way slowly closer, was a glowing red stain. As they watched, it seemed to peel away from the wall of the dam, to reach up towards the explosives.

The spark disappeared, inside the top of the back.

'Any second now,' Wilson said.

There was utter silence from the soldiers as they stood in a rough semicircle watching. s...o...b..ld held his breath.

The red ma.s.s curled inwards, pouncing in slow motion on the back pack.

There was a flash of light from the pack, just visible as the ma.s.s of glowing rock connected with it, smothering it entirely.

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