Arthur Quinn and the World Serpent (14 page)

The following morning, Ash and Will were still sound asleep on couch cushions on Arthur's bedroom floor when he got up to speak to Joe. He quietly threw back his covers and tiptoed over his sleeping friends. Following Will's revelations the previous night, they'd spent hours online, searching for more information about the Jormungand. They found nothing new – and definitely no clue as to how to stop it.

As usual, Joe was leaving early; the sun still hadn't risen fully in the sky. Arthur found him in the kitchen.

‘Good morning, young man,' Joe said, surprised to see him. ‘You're up early! How are your friends?'

‘They're still asleep.'

Joe was packing sandwiches into a small cooler bag to take to work with him. Arthur hovered nearby, watching him. Joe zipped up the bag then turned to his waiting son.

‘Something up, Arthur?'

‘No. Not really.'

Joe took his car keys off the counter then Arthur added hurriedly, ‘Well … kind of.'

Joe sat down at the kitchen table. He looked at his watch.

‘Okay. I have a few minutes. Take a seat and tell me about it.'

Arthur sat opposite him. He didn't know how to start. What he was about to ask his father seemed so ridiculous in the almost-light of day. And he definitely couldn't be totally honest with Joe. Then he'd surely think Arthur had gone crazy.

‘What if you found out it wasn't a good idea to build the tunnel?' he asked eventually.

‘How do you mean?'

‘Well, what if I asked you not to excavate it?'

‘What's this about, Arthur? Is it because you want to move back to Kerry?'

‘No, it's not that. It's just … I don't think you should drill down there. I don't think anyone should. And you could stop it. You could say it's not safe and the whole thing would be cancelled. They'd find a different route or something.'

‘I could. But it is safe. We know that, Arthur. There's nothing to worry about. We did geothermal scans of under the ground and nothing showed up.'

‘Nothing that would show up anyway,' said Arthur.

‘What are you talking about?'

‘I can't explain it. But you have to trust me, Dad. Please get the project cancelled.'

Joe stood up, angry.

‘Arthur, are you out of your mind? Ask them to stop a multi-million-euro job for no reason other than my son wants me to? That would be professional suicide!'

‘Dad, just listen to me!'

‘No, Arthur, I won't. This is ridiculous. I know this is just because you want to go back to Kerry and I don't want to hear another word about it. Now, I have to go or I'll be late for work.' He picked up his sandwiches and made for the front door, but the next words out of his son's mouth made him pause.

‘Mum would have listened to me.'

Joe stopped for a second then turned on the spot. He suddenly looked very old, very tired, his skin drawn across his face with dark bags under his eyes. ‘Well, she's not here, Arthur,' he said quietly. ‘I'm afraid I'm all you have.' He turned and left the house in a hurry, both furious and disappointed. Arthur sat by himself in the kitchen with a lump in his throat. Eventually he made his way back upstairs and into bed.

On the way to school, Arthur lied to Will and Ash about having talked to Joe. He didn't have the heart to tell them how badly it had gone.

‘I'll talk to him this evening,' he promised.

The rest of the day went very slowly. Miss Keegan had joked about Arthur, Will and Ash wanting to go for their weekly swim. Arthur was shocked it had only been a week since they'd almost drowned in the tunnel. So much had happened in the meantime: his whole view of the world had been turned upside down.

The three of them avoided the subject of Loki and the Jormungand all day. Ash and Will sensed correctly that Arthur didn't want to talk about it.

‘Let's not mention it till he's talked to his dad this evening,' Ash said to Will when she got a chance. He agreed and that was the way they left it.

During class, Miss Keegan twice noticed that Arthur was distracted and had to scold him. He half-heartedly apologised each time and went back to thinking about what his dad had said.

Finally, the school day ended. Will went home while Ash and Arthur both returned to Arthur's empty house. Although Ash had no reason to be there, she didn't want to leave Arthur on his own just yet. She just had a feeling that he needed the company.

The moon had risen by the time Joe finished work for the day. The darkness in the sky was even more pronounced at the Metro site, where the bright work lights contrasted with the blackness above and created sharp shadows here and there. Everyone else in the Citi-Trak office had gone home hours ago, but Joe had stayed back to finish some paperwork. Ruairí had offered to stay with him but Joe sent him home.

Joe signed his last blueprint for the day, dropped it in a paper folder and then into a filing cabinet. He slung his coat over his shoulder, picked up his keys and left the office, locking it behind him. The click of the lock sounded unnaturally loud in the silence of the site.

It was much colder outside than he'd thought it would be and he shivered when an icy breeze penetrated his clothing. He put on his coat, making sure to zip it right up to his neck, and rubbed his hands together vigorously.

Thunk!

He hadn't even time to wonder what the sound was before he heard it a second time.

Thunk!

It sounded like two pieces of heavy metal knocking together.

Thunk!

It came a third time and this time he was able to pinpoint the sound. It was coming from behind the office prefab, where the storage containers were. He hesitated for a minute but then figured that somebody might be in trouble. They might have been accidentally locked into one of the containers. It had happened on another site he'd worked on a couple of years ago. As dangerous as it had been, at least it was the height of the summer then. If somebody was locked into a container on this freezing night, they could end up catching pneumonia or worse. He considered calling the security man stationed at the gate but then decided to find out what the noise was before disturbing him – besides, there might be a simple explanation and he didn't want to look like a fool. Maybe a fox or some other animal had gotten trapped. He pulled up his coat collar against the cold and started walking towards the containers.

‘Hello?' he called out. No answer. ‘Anyone there?'

He heard another
thunk
followed briskly by a
thud
, as if something had dropped to the ground.

‘Is someone back there?' he called again. Still no reply. He approached the storage area. Long shipping containers were stacked in three rows of five. They housed all the materials the crew needed for excavating: safety equipment, gear for welding, drilling, hosing and nailing, spray-paint cans, ladders, ropes, screws and glue to name just a few. All the containers in the first row seemed fine at first glance, as did the second row. But the door to the middle container in the last row was wide open. ‘
D
anger!' was painted in bold red letters on the front. He heard someone moving about inside.

‘Who's in there?' As he walked towards the open container, his feet crunched on the gravel. The harsh work lights cast his shadow far against the side of the containers, making it look like Joe was a giant. When he got near the open door, he saw the padlock lying on the ground, split open. He reached the opening and looked inside.

At first it was difficult to see, but gradually his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. A tall, dark figure was hunched over, reading the labels on the wooden crates stacked inside. He was leaning on a shovel.

‘Hey! Who are you?' Joe asked, hoping the nervousness he was feeling couldn't be heard in his voice. ‘How did you get past security?'

The figure turned quickly, startled. He had long straggly hair and a matching beard. Even though the work lights were faint here, Joe could still make out his grin stretching from ear to ear.

‘Oh …' said the man in a croaky rasp, ‘Willie and I go way back.'

‘What are you doing here?'

‘I apologise. It's Hallowe'en soon so I was just playing trick or treat.' He patted one of the boxes, taking a step towards Joe. ‘You have the treats …' He took another step forward. ‘And I have the tricks.' With that he suddenly swung the shovel in his hand, whacking Joe in the ribs. He swung a second time and caught him across the shins.

‘Argh!' Joe cried out in pain as he crumpled to the ground. He'd heard a loud crack when the man had hit him first and, from the agonising spasm shooting up his side, he could only assume that the blow had broken a couple of ribs.

‘Oh dear me!' said the man in mock concern. ‘Where are my manners?' He bent over Joe, leering down at him. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I'm a friend of your son's.' Joe heard the shovel slicing through the air once more and fell unconscious the instant it collided with the side of his head.

Arthur was surprised to find a garda standing outside when he answered the door. He was tall, with wavy ginger hair and pale green eyes. He was holding his hat to his chest. His squad car was parked in the drive, blue lights flashing. The old lady across the street with the dog had ventured out to take a look.

‘Hello, son. Are you Arthur Quinn?' asked the garda.

‘Yes.'

‘Son of Joe Quinn?'

‘Yeah, that's me.'

‘I'm Garda Morrissey,' he said, showing him his identification. ‘Can I come in? I need to speak to you.'

As Arthur led the garda into the living room, he imagined the worst. There'd been an accident at work with the drill. Or the Jormungand had somehow gotten out and – he didn't want to think about what would have happened if that was the case.

Ash looked up from the couch where she'd been watching TV.