War Bird

11. A-Wanderin' From Door to Door.

We're escorted by Jenks and Turnbull down more winding tunnels that slope gently upwards. At first I think we’re going to go above ground, but we soon arrive in a large, circular lobby, which must be the main entry point for this place. The floor is patterned tile, and it looks a bit like a compass. At the North point is a large set of heavy doors, with two men guarding them. They are dressed just like Jenks and Turnbull, and they nod at us all as we troop past. I’m guessing that’s the way to the surface then. There are four more tunnels that shoot off in different directions from the lobby, each archway decorated with black symbols, but I don’t have time to look closely at them as we are pushed down one of the tunnels. This one is short, but different to any of the others I’ve seen so far. The floor is smoother, the walls straighter with pretty yellow lights dotted regularly along. We soon arrive at yet another lobby, but a lot smaller than the one we just walked through, lined with wood panels. There are five doors, all closed, with one set that is big and heavy looking. This is the one Jenks nudges us through, but he doesn’t follow us in. He slams the door shut and then I hear him snap to attention outside.

“What is this place?” Asher says.

The room is mostly filled by a massive wood table, covered by a map. At the head of it are four chairs, bigger than the others crowded around the table. More, much smaller maps cover the wood-paneled walls, along with photos, scraps of paper with scratchy writings and strange symbols.

“Looks like a meeting room.” I walk over to the wall, my feet making no sound on the thick carpet. The photos are blurred ones, mostly dark figures in wooded areas, of burning buildings and-oh man- dead bodies. I stop at one pic that makes my throat close. It’s very dark, but two large eyes glow in the centre.

“It’s a bit like an Incident Room.” Ed’s voice is right behind my ear and I jump, making him laugh. “Like what the police have.”

“How would you know about those?” I ask. He just raises an eyebrow and walks over to the table to check out the map.

“Looks like a map of Normandy.” Ed rests his elbows on the map and bobs his head at something on it. “Sea’s there.”

“How did they manage to build this place underground?” Asher prods the wall. “This here is solid wood. And this carpet. I mean...I remember Year 9 History, soldiers fought in trenches, not...giant underground lairs.”

“Magic is a wondrous thing,” a silky voice says from the doorway. 

The speaker is a woman about Miss Ever’s age, but way more glamorous. Glossy ginger waves are curled back into a glamorous bun, showing off a narrow face with sharp cheekbones and enormous brown eyes. She’s smiling at us like we’re animals in a zoo, blood-red lips showing perfectly white teeth. Standing just behind her is a tall, skinny man. He’s kind of grey all over. Grey hair, grey eyes, grey suit. Even his skin, which clings tightly to the sharp bones of his skull. He could be twenty-five, he could be fifty. He watches us carefully, arms hanging loosely at his side. Miss Ever strides in after them, patting her hair.

“Sorry,” she says to the two newcomers. “It’s pandemonium in the Bay today.” She and the two others take three of the four big chairs at the top of the table.

“Sit!” Miss Ever orders and we quickly take our seats.

“What do you want?” Asher’s hands are gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles are knobbly. 

“First, let me introduce you to Madam Kull,” she gestures to her left at the glamazon, who nods cooly in response. “And General Arkwright. We are the Commanders here-”

“Who’s the fourth Commander?” Ed’s interruption makes Miss Ever frown.

“What makes you think there’s a fourth?” She replies, her mouth becoming a thin line.