Page 89 of New Storm Rising
Gallagher smirked. “Who do ya think?”
“I see.” A pause. “And if things stand in the way of your…” He cast a glance askance at the herd of bovines everywhere around him. “…little pets?”
“Then they’ll be trampled, naturally. Nothing should stand in the way of progress.”
“The two of us have very different ideas of what ‘progress’ means, Sheriff.” Reaching down, Mr Ambrose placed his hand on the butt of his revolver. “I wonder whatyouwould say if you were trampled to make way for progress?”
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. “Careful there, Ambrose. That almost sounded like a threat against an officer of the law.”
“And what if it was?”
“We are on official business. Our way is straight through there.” Gallagher pointed across the grounds, completely ignoring the rickety house, the shed, the guards, and anything else in the way. “I’m supposed to make sure everything goes smoothly. If anyone were to get in our way…well, it would be really a pity if I’d be forced to enforce the law.”
The two men stood there for a long moment, their gazes clashing. All around them, their subordinates waited with bated breath, hands on their guns. Wind whistled. Cows ruminated.
“Very well.”
I stared. Could it be…hadMr Ambrosejust been the first one to break the silence?
“You’ve won. You may pass.”
Apparently he had. And not only that, he hadgiven in! To someonethreateninghim! Had I lost my mind? Was the world coming to an end?
The sheriff smirked. “You heard ’im, boys. Yee-ha!”
Whips cracked. Hooves pounded. Like one giant, morbid organism, the massive herd moved forwards.
Straight towards us. Which included me!
“Back!” Mr Ambrose barked. “Everybody back, inside the mine!”
The men hesitated, glancing down at their rifles. “Shouldn’t we try to stop—”
It was so quick I almost missed it. Mr Ambrose’s eyes flickered to me.
“No! Move,now!”
Something in his voice made me not want to argue. Rushing into the shed, we slammed the door shut behind us. Karim was already up ahead, flipping open the trap door. Outside, the thunder of hooves grew louder.
“Go!” Suddenly, I was airborne. Cradled in Mr Ambrose’s arms, I was raced towards the open trap door and, a moment later, sailed down the ladder at prodigious speeds. And not a moment too soon.
Thud! Thudud! Thu—BOOM!
Metal and wood flew everywhere. Dirt poured into the tunnel from above, and I raised my hands to shield myself—only to find myself on my back, Mr Ambrose kneeling above me as sand and earth spilled down on either side of him, little rocks bouncing everywhere. Above us, the earth trembled as everything was trampled down and torn to pieces.
Cows! Bloody cows! I always knew the countryside was dangerous! Heck, why didn’t I stay in London?
“Move!” Mr Ambrose yelled.
“I’m trying,” I groaned. “There’s a big slab of rock on top of me!”
The slab of rock didn’t answer. Instead, he picked me up and, unceremoniously throwing me over his shoulder, Mr Ambrose rushed down the tunnel, dark figures flickering in and out of sight on either side of us.
“Let me down! I can walk on my own! I can—”
Crash!
An avalanche of rocks and dirt slammed into the ground behind me, flattening everything.
