Free Underworld by Cathy MacPhail

couldn’t Angie?
    â€˜Sure it’s not that big Worm you’re scared of, Liam?’
    Liam spun round and faced Axel.
    â€˜What’s all this about the Worm?’ Mr Marks asked.
    â€˜Mrs Soames tried to scare us with it last night,’ Liam told him.
    Mr Marks shook his head. ‘It’s just a legend. A stupid legend.’
    That shocked Liam. He had wanted the teacher to say it was all made up, just to frighten them. That there was no legend of the Worm.
    â€˜You mean … it’s true, sir?’
    â€˜No. It’s not true. It’s a story. Like the Loch Ness Monster. You don’t believe in that, do you?’
    Axel answered for him. ‘No. But I wouldn’t go swimming in Loch Ness, just in case.’
    Mr Marks smiled at him. ‘Well, Axel. Please don’t force yourself to come. I’ll get someone to take you back. I believe there’s an embroidery class going on this afternoon.’
    If only he hadn’t said that about the embroidery class. Axel wouldn’t have come, Liam could see that. He had been looking for a way out. He had even made a movement to pull off his helmet – until the mention of the embroidery class. There was no way he would go back now.
    â€˜We’re wasting time!’ Axel said, with a glare at the teacher.
    Mr Marks held him back. ‘Before we go down here, I want to say one thing. In here, we have to work as ateam. That’s what caving is all about. We’re not going in far, just down deep enough to give you a taste of it. But I want you to imagine how it would be.’ His voice took on the enthusiasm of a fanatic. ‘The thrill of the unknown. The excitement of being somewhere very few people have been before. Of knowing that you might just discover a passage, a chamber never yet found.’
    â€˜The thrill of bumping into the Great Worm.’ Fiona was laughing. She made them all laugh as they followed the teacher inside the gaping mouth of the caves. Liam laughed too. But he wished with all his heart that he had the courage to say that right now he’d much prefer the embroidery class.
    * * *
    I am so cold. Why am I following this man I loathe, following him into a blackness that seems to be swallowing us up?
    â€˜Do you know where you are going, sir?’ I ask.
    He does not turn to answer me.
    â€˜Before the war, I lived on this island. I know it well.’
    He stops and shines his torch through the cave. There is nothing to see but rock. Black rock. We are in a coffin of rock.
    He says again, ‘I know it well.’
    â€˜Should we be going in so far, sir? No one will find us.’
    At the mouth of the cave we would soon be picked up by the British. We would be fed and given warm, dry clothes. My friend, Dieter, had told me the British do not take prisoners. They would shoot us. I do not believe that. It is propaganda. And now, I am so cold I don’t care.
    And Dieter is dead and cold now. Cold for ever, under the sea.
    â€˜Are you questioning an officer!’ He shines his light on my face. I cannot see his. He is only a voice, a voice full of hate.
    â€˜No, sir,’ I say.
    â€˜We go in deeper,’ he says, and he turns from me again.
    I will not be lost in these caves. I will make sure I find the way out. For I am afraid as I follow after him. There is something sinister about the dark in these caves – as if something is in here, waiting for us.
    * * *
    Funny how silent it was when you were inside, Zesh thought. Not as dark as he’d expected, but this cave was well used not just by cavers, but by tourists too, so the entrance and the railinged stairway leading down to the main chamber were well lit by lamps hanging from the roof. ‘Not many tourists here today, sir.’ He caught up with the teacher.
    Mr Marks nodded. ‘We’re not in the main touristseason, Zesh. And we haven’t had good weather. But you wait till summer. It’s busy