The Beneath by S. C. Ransom

Author:S. C. Ransom [S. C. Ransom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780857632760
Publisher: Nosy Crow
Published: 2015-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

Will and I were grabbed from behind and our captors wrenched our arms up behind our backs. The pain was excruciating.

“Hey,” I called after a few minutes. “There’s no need to be so rough. Where am I going to run to?” The man holding me ignored me completely.

“Can you give her a break, please?” asked Will, calling over his shoulder. “She’s right – where are we going to go?” The next thing I heard was a grunt as his guard practically doubled him over. Neither of us said another word.

We were bundled along the twisting corridors, unable to make any sense of the direction in which we were travelling, before stopping abruptly. I lifted my head to see a wide door, which was thick and studded with huge strengthening bars. Whatever was on the other side clearly wasn’t getting out – or in. I shivered, hoping that it wasn’t another entrance to the Crop. I really didn’t want to face it again, not before I’d had the chance to make some sort of a deal, and there was no point in making a deal with guards, if that’s what they were.

“I need to talk to the Farmer,” I announced as we waited outside the door.

There was a moment of stunned silence before one man gave a hollow laugh. Will was doing his best to stand upright with his wrist rammed up between his shoulder blades, but he caught my eye and nodded.

“We both need to see him,” Will said in a strained voice. “We’ve got important information for him.”

The man holding him relaxed his grip momentarily, allowing Will to straighten up. He was taller than most of the men and I could see them take an almost imperceptible step backwards. The guy with the beard pushed his way through the crowd.

“What’s this? What’s going on?” he boomed in his deep voice.

“We need to see the Farmer. Both of us.”

“What business do you have with him?”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your concern, do you?” retorted Will, staring at him unblinkingly.

The two of them eyeballed each other for a moment before the bearded guy looked away.

“Maybe they’ve come to let us know about an invasion,” called one guy from the back.

“Silence!” roared the man with the beard towards the small crowd. “Not another word in front of them. Lock ’em up,” he said gruffly, handing over a large key to the man holding Will. “I’ll get the Farmer.”

There was a great wrenching noise as the key turned in the enormous lock and slowly the door swung open. We were bundled into another dimly lit corridor, but the men seemed to be treating us with slightly more respect. The Farmer was clearly not someone you called on lightly.

All the other corridors had been clean and smooth, but beyond the door the air was damp and the floor was roughly dug stone, which was awkward to walk on. A couple of times I stumbled when I caught my toe, and the man holding me hauled me back upright again.

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