Chasing Imagination

Casper

My thoughts about what Linzy had just said were pushed to the back of my mind when a familiar voice echoed down the tunnel.

‘Anyone in?’ Nightshade called, peering round the corner. She was dressed much the same as she had been every time I’d seen her; dark, eccentric, with the legendary purple hair and countless piercings and tattoos.

‘Hi guys!’ she said, leaning against the wall. ‘Wait, how many of you are there? Five? Is that it?’

‘Markus said smaller was better,’ I said.

She huffed, but still somehow looked happy. ‘Whatever. You’ll have to do then. Casper! Good to see you over here again. And the new girl too—what’s your name again? No, wait, I got it: Amy! Good to see you Amy!’

‘Good to see you too,’ Amy replied politely, clearly taken aback by Nightshade’s flamboyant speech patterns.

‘And then there’s Linzy, and...oh, Daniel? Yes. Daniel. And who’re you again?’ She pointed to Leah.

‘Leah,’ she reminded her.

‘Oh of course!’ Nightshade said. ‘I remember you. Anyway, follow me. Don’t wanna just be standing out here.’

She led us north for about ten minutes until veering off through a door that led into what was obviously a long since unused Dreamer common room of sorts. None of the lights worked, but we had enough torches between us to cast a fair amount of light. There were shabbily upholstered armchairs and sofas dotted around at random intervals, their designs hopelessly out of date, and a few rickety stools sat around in the spaces. I perched on a chair, worried that, if I sat too far back, the entire thing would disintegrate into dust beneath me.

‘So,’ Nightshade began, leaning on her elaborately manicured hand, hundreds of silver rings catching the thin light, their reflections dancing across the concrete walls around us. ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you all the way out here? And at such a dangerous time, too.’

‘Yep,’ I said, sure I was speaking on behalf of everyone.

‘Well, since the last time we spoke, Casper,’ Nightshade continued, her vibrantly green eyes sparkling in that mysterious way they always did. They reminded me of the eyes of a snake; seductive, drawing in their prey. ‘We’ve had a little bit of a breakthrough over here. Some of my men—and women—went out on a mission the other day, and discovered us the entrance into Vault One.’

My heart jumped irregularly. I couldn’t tell whether it was from excitement or fear. ‘Vault One? Are you serious?’

‘No way!’ Linzy exclaimed.

‘Wow,’ I heard Amy quietly gasp, sitting close to me. She may have been new, but she still knew the importance of Vault One.

‘Yes,’ Nightshade said, ‘so my mission for you is simple: follow my directions, break your way in, and steal everything you damn well can!’ She smiled, her eyes on fire with the drama of the situation.

My heart went from jumping to lurching. This was so much bigger than the sort of task I had anticipated. No way could we pull this off.

‘Al—right,’ I stammered, far from sure. ‘How do we get in there?’

‘Right,’ Nightshade began, her tone business-like, ‘continue down this tunnel; exit as soon as you get to the other side of the river. Don’t wait until you join up with the Upper Tunnels. Then, head to Westminster; to the Houses of Parliament.’

My mouth hung open as though it had lost the elastic with which it was supposed to close. The Houses of Parliament were, understandably, some of the most forcefully guarded buildings in the country.

At that point, Nightshade produced a very crumpled picture from her pocket. ‘This—‘ she pointed to Westminster Abbey; one of the few churches or religious buildings that still remained open. ‘This is where you enter. There’s a door round the back of the abbey; hard to notice, and you think it just leads into the back of the church. But no. It leads underground. Take it, turn right at the fork, and follow it round until you reach what is, in reality, just a glorified hole in the wall. It was a wall blown down by the Dreamers in order to find their way into the Vaults. If the security guards have found it, they will be guarding it heavily, but I don’t know how often they go into the Vaults. One thing’s for sure, though: there will be surveillance. All I want you to do is grab all you can; find the religious texts especially, if that’s the sort of thing that’s in there, and get the hell out before they come down on you hard. Don’t come back here; go straight back to Kingston.’

I looked around in bewilderment. How were we, five totally ordinary Dreamers supposed to accomplish something as great as this?

I nodded. ‘Alright. We’ll do it.’

I stood up, and the others followed. Nightshade remained seated.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ I asked, glancing down at her, looking weirdly relaxed in amongst the ancient, insect-infested furniture.

‘Nah,’ she said, ‘I’m waiting for my ride to get back.’ I laughed; trust Nightshade to have a personal chauffeur to drive her safely back to Tottenham Court Road.

‘Alright,’ I said, ‘see you soon. And good luck with keeping the authorities out.’

‘Thanks,’ she said. I was almost at the door; the last one of the group out; when she spoke again.

‘Casper?’ she called. I ushered Leah out the door and turned round.

‘Yeah?’

‘I said I was right about the war.’

***

It was a grim thought to leave with and, aside from everything else on my mind as we sped along out of Waterloo and under the river, I was thinking about war too. Of course Nightshade was right! She always was, one way or another. This was just another of those situations.

I hoped Amy didn’t hear that. She was still so new and, as she had proven over the last couple of weeks, still so fragile. The last thing she needed was to be plunged into a war. Surely it wasn’t true war yet; war would mean we had to come out in public somewhat.

I didn’t know why I cared about Amy’s feelings after she had completely ravaged mine, but I did. If ever there was any hope of salvaging us, I would embrace it gladly.

‘We’re under the river,’ Dan announced, ‘we need to head up now.’

‘Uh, where?’ Leah asked, glaring at him as she gestured to the unchanging tunnel stretching off ahead of us in the same way as the one we had just walked down.

‘Here,’ I said, diverting off suddenly down a tunnel that was barely wider than a crack in the wall. Leah huffed; she didn’t like to be proven wrong.

The tunnel was just about wide enough for us to move along single file, and then at the far end was a ladder. I ascended first, the rungs damp and dripping with age-old slime, most likely from a leak, and came out of a tiny, open manhole onto a little platform at the edge of the Thames. Fishy-smelling, briny water splashed up every time a wave hit the bank, spraying us all and sending the putrid stench even further into my nostrils.

The platform, which was barely big enough for us all to fit on, had some concrete steps which led up the bank to the main road. At the top of the steps, the gate, which separated off this ‘private’ property from the rest of the north bank, was locked, but I hopped over it without a second thought. Being a Thursday, and being around ten pm, the nightlife was hardly extensive tonight, but still London’s centre was far from deserted. Cars and red buses came past at regular intervals, and there were still plenty of groups and couples out enjoying the new warm weather.

Looking across the river, it glowed with a kaleidoscope of light, reflected from the countless buildings on south bank. The south of the Thames was alive if you only knew where to look.

‘Westminster,’ Linzy murmured, and we all headed off, speed-walking in the direction of Big Ben, its silhouette standing out because it was even blacker than the night around it.

We followed Nightshade’s instructions, heading round the back of the abbey, which was as deserted as you would expect for this time of night.

‘Here we go,’ Amy said, the first to spot the door. It was well concealed, carved deep into the heavy stonework of the abbey’s exterior. My breath caught in my throat. I had long since stopped being scared of trips down to the Vaults, but this was a different story entirely. Once we were in, there may be no way out. And there was no doubt that the security would be tight down there.

The door was locked, but I blasted the padlock apart with one shot, cringing at the sound. After that, the door swung open easily, and we were plunged into blackness, cobwebs and spiders our only company.

‘Torches!’ I hissed in a whisper, worried about talking too loud. At once, three pools of light came on around me, enough to light the way ahead as we began to descend the sloping path. I had spent the last few years of my life living in tunnels not so different from this one, but this particular one brought about a fear I had long since buried.

‘Turn right,’ Amy said once we got to the fork, remembering the instructions. I heard the panic in her voice, so much stronger than the fear I felt right now. She wasn’t used to this. Why had I brought her? What if she became too afraid? Or what if she got caught? This trip was ten times riskier than anything I had completed before.

The first noticeable CCTV camera came into view round the next corner, visible because of a telltale green bead of light on its side, signalling that it was on, but also as a convenient aid for us. I ran a hand across my throat, miming ‘cut,’ and we were plunged into a darkness that felt more impenetrable than death. Amy gave a quiet gasp, now walking beside me, and I reached out a hand to her. I was clumsy in the dark, brushing her arm with my fingers first as I searched for her hand, but when I found it I clasped onto it. I felt her whole body tense up beside me, her fingers going rigid in mine. She didn’t pull away, but it was as big a warning sign as any she could have given me. She hated me. It was like she had just confirmed the theory as fact.

Moving on past the bead of light, I let go of her hand, dropping it as though it was red hot.

‘Torches,’ I whispered, and three lights came back on. Amy had a torch, and when she turned it on, it lit her face. I could see all too clearly the resentment she looked at me with.

'I’m sorry,' I mouthed at her, confident that the others didn’t notice. She just turned her face away.