Innes Hammond by Maddons Rock V1.2 (Txt)

Author:Maddons Rock V1.2 (Txt) [V1.2, Maddons Rock]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Escape from Dartmoor

I think that must have been the longest three quarters of an hour I have ever lived through. When we had filled the sacks we loaded them on to a lorry and began distributing them round the blocks. I kept on glancing at my watch. Slowly the light faded. The drizzle showed like a thin silver veil against the light of an open doorway. For five minutes I was busy stacking coal in a bunker beside one of the furnaces. When I came out to the truck again it was dark. The mist seemed to have come down like an impenetrable blanket. I suddenly felt panicky that we should lose our way. The truck moved slowly out into the parade ground. The lights of the prison showed all about us. The mist was not as thick as it had seemed. I got my bearings again.

Bert plucked at my sleeve. ‘Ain’t it time yet, mate?’ he asked.

I showed him my watch. The luminous dial showed twenty to eight. ‘Keep close by me now,’ I whispered. ‘First opportunity we get, we’ll slide off.’

The truck turned up beside another block. We piled out and began unloading more sacks. The warder in charge went inside the boiler house to supervise the stacking of the coal.’

‘Okay, Bert,’ I whispered, ‘slip your boots off.’

A minute later we were gliding along under the shadow of the towering bulk of the block. At the end we paused. Behind us the headlights of the lorry blazed against a granite wall. Above us cell windows glimmered faintly. Ahead, there was nothing but impenetrable darkness. The ground struck cold through my prison socks. My knees were trembling. We listened. No sound of footsteps disturbed the silence of the darkness.

‘Come on,’ I said.

I took Bert’s arm and we plunged out into the open. Our stockinged feet made no sound. Twice I paused to glance back at the lights of the prison. I had tried to memorise the position of the blocks in relation to the paint shed. But it was the wall we struck and not the shed. We turned left, feeling our way along. I was hoping to get the building in which the ladders were housed in silhouette against the lights of the prison blocks. We went fifty yards before we hit up against an entirely different building and I realised we had come the wrong way. We hurried back. It was ten to eight. Incredible how fast the time went now. I was scared that the Borstal riot might start early. Once that started the authorities might train searchlights on to the walls.

My heart was racing as I saw the sheds we were looking for. I took the key out of my pocket as we felt our way along the side of the building and found the paint shed door. Everything depended on whether the key fitted. I fumbled for the key-hole. My hand was trembling violently. The key slipped in. I tried to turn it. Panic seized at me as I found it would not turn.

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