Free The Guardians by John Christopher

hour. Look, I’m afraid you’re going to have to foot it the rest of the way. I can’t get Captain any farther through the trees. It’s not far now, though.”
    â€œThat’s all right. How do I get off?”
    â€œJust cock your leg over.” He watched critically as Rob struggled to dismount. “Hang on while I tie him up.”
    The horse whinnied after him as they went away.
    â€œWant to hold on to me?”
    â€œNo, thanks.” Rob gritted his teeth. “I’m all right.”
    In places they had to force a way through undergrowth. Mike commented that it was a good thing; it was less likely that anyone else would come this way. They were on rising ground, thick with trees of different kinds and sizes. After ten minutes they broke through into a more open space looking up to the crest of the hill, a grassy hump overgrownwith brambles and creepers. Rob looked for the cave but could see nothing.
    â€œBearing up?” Mike asked. “Over here.”
    He led the way across the clearing to a point where the brambles ended. Carefully he pulled at a tangle of thorn. It came clear and there was a way behind it. You had to squeeze close to the side of the hill on one side; on the other you were concealed by the undergrowth.
    Mike, pushing ahead of him, said, “I found it when Tess went in after a rabbit. That’s my dog. I thought I might turn it into a den or something, but I never did. I left it covered so that no one else would find it. Here we are.”
    There was an opening, framed in crumbling concrete, about three feet wide and four high. Rob ducked to follow Mike in. It was dark, because very little light filtered through the tangle of leaves and briars outside. Rob could just see that they were in some sort of chamber, a six-foot cube or thereabouts. Like the doorway it was built of concrete.
    â€œWhat was it for?” he asked. “Who would want to build something like this, inside a hill?”
    â€œThere’s more of it higher up but it’s broken and overgrown. I think this was just an extra way out. It was probably a gun battery—for firing at aircraft. Something out of the Hitler War, anyway.”
    â€œAs old as that?”
    â€œMaybe older. They had aircraft in the previous war, too, didn’t they?” He looked around. “It’s a bit rough. Do you think you’ll be all right?”
    â€œI’ll be all right.”
    â€œWe can make some improvements. I’ll go and get a few things now. You don’t have to stay in here as long as you dodge back if you hear anyone coming up through the wood. When I come back, I’ll whistle.” He demonstrated a call on two notes. “O.K.?”
    Rob nodded. “O.K.”
    He waited lying out in the grass. Trees and the hill cut off most of the sky but there was a patch of sunlight. The silence and isolation, the dark alien quality of the wood, troubled him a little. Mike was a long time gone. The patch of sunlight moved away from the clearing and now lit only the side of the hill above the brambles. It was less warm and heshivered. He dismissed a suspicion that Mike might have had second thoughts: there was something about him which was dependable. Two rabbits appeared from the wood and he watched them, fascinated. It was hard to believe he was really here, in the County, with plants budding, wild things living all around him. And yet already this was the reality, the Conurb—with its packed streets, high-rise buildings, crawling electrocars—the fantasy.
    The rabbits pricked up their ears and in a moment, with a flash of white tail, were gone. He heard Mike’s whistle below in the wood.
    He was heavily weighted down, a large bundle slung over one shoulder and a bag in his right hand. He dropped them on the grass and said, “Sorry I’ve taken so long. It seemed a good idea to tackle things as thoroughly as possible.” He kicked the bundle.