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<h1>35</h1>
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<p><em>The whole world exploded</em>.</p>
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<p>The detonation was so vast, so colossal, that there was no
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sound, not at first. The narrow gorge erupted in a sea of blinding
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light that turned everything white and burned dark and cracking
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lines into the backs of their eyes. The very air slammed up at
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them, turned solid by the enormity of the explosion, catching them
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in a stunning body blow that threw them right off their feet and
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into the air.</p>
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<p>It was worse than they had imagined, more apocalyptic than
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anything they <em>could</em> have imagined. The whole earth leapt
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upwards under their feet at the same time as the searing, hardened
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air came punching up from downslope.</p>
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<p>In the first split second, there was no noise at all because the
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quality of the very air had changed in the instant of the
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explosion. The earth came up at them, shucked them off and the
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blast carried them away. A monstrous hand reached up and snatched
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at Doug who was lower down the slope, nearer the sharp edge toward
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which the man had been climbing. The hot hand grabbed at him,
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pressing against every inch of his skin and squeezed so hard he
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felt his eyes popping outwards. The hand lifted and threw him and
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he went sailing through the blinding sky, arms and legs
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flailing.</p>
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<p>Danny and Corky, lying in a tangle beside the tree were thrown
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up, along with the ledge of turf on which they sprawled, in a
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sudden reverse of gravity. They went rolling straight up the hill
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one over the other in a tangle. Tom was slammed against Billy so
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hard that his nose burst against Billy's ribs and the two of them
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were punched over the low rise and dumped onto the thick
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heather.</p>
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<p>The noise came then.</p>
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<p>It was louder than anything they'd heard, louder than the
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explosions up in Drumbeck Quarry, or close thunder in a summer
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storm beating its way up the firth. It made the shotgun blast pale
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to a whisper. It was louder than anything in the world. It blasted
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into their heads in a sudden, excruciating blare that drove out all
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thought in a stunning, catastrophic concussion.</p>
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<p>It was nothing like the movies at all. It was no fireworks. The
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earth itself simply exploded.</p>
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<p>The blast wave drove under the roots of the hawthorn tree which
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had catapulted the bomb into the air and ripped it, roots and all,
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from where it clung to the edge of the gorge, lifted it straight
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into the air. Corky was tumbling upwards, landing on his shoulder,
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crashing onto his backside. His teeth crunched together and up at
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the back, one of them cracked in a soundless, painless crunch. The
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sky was white and the noise was crackling inside his head now, for
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he had gone deaf once more. All he could hear was the concussion
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and the glassy crackle inside the bones of his skull. There was no
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time to breathe, no time to yell and every nerve in his body was
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slammed numb. He saw the hawthorn tree fly upwards like a jagged
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rocket, tumbling as it flew, the one trunk ripping away from the
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other, scattering leaves and twigs. He landed on the heather with a
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thud which might have knocked his breath out, but he couldn't tell.
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Danny landed half on top of him, on his backside. His eyes were
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wide and unblinking and his pupils seemed to have disappeared so
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that only blue showed.</p>
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<p>The blast went on and on, rocking through them, while the earth
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danced and jumped as if it was alive and it seemed as if the
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explosion would never end. Corky managed to turn, found his breath,
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sucked in air that was hot and burning. The world smelt as if it
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was on fire.</p>
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<p>Doug had landed over to the left, feet up, head down, flipped by
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the explosion up to the same level, but out from the protection of
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the heathery gradient. He was rolling back, trying to get a grip on
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the shale surface, sliding downwards as he did so, slipping
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straight towards the sheer drop.</p>
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<p>"Doug!" Corky bellowed, but no sound at all came out, although
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he knew he had shouted. Doug didn't hear him. Danny was rolling
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over now, eyes trying to focus, a trickle of blood dripping from a
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burst lip. He saw Doug start to slide, saw the shale crumble under
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him. The lip was now closer than it had been before. Beyond it was
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the drop to the corrie below and the cauldron of white where the
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bomb had cracked the world.</p>
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<p>Corky crawled over, forcing his numbed limbs to move. Danny
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scrambled past, mouth working violently as if he too was
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screeching. Danny got a hand to Doug's ankle. Corky grabbed his
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other leg and Doug stopped slipping. He rolled quickly, grabbed
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Danny's shoulder and spun onto the relative safety of the turf.</p>
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<p>All of this happened in bare seconds. The noise was still
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ripping inside their heads, and they were entirely unaware that
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each of them was bawling. Up the slope, Tom and Billy, further away
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from the blast and less concussed, had landed together on the low
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rise at the highest vantage over the main valley and all the
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runnels which fed it. They were both winded and numb.</p>
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<p>The tree went sailing upwards, even higher than where they
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sprawled. It was spinning and twirling and scattering its confetti
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of leaves and pieces of thorn in a spectacular ballet into the
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white.</p>
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<p>Rocks and pieces of mudstone blasted upwards, some of them
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trailing dust or smoke, up and out, in a spectacular eruption,
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mixed in with red-hot pieces of metal which burned through the sky
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like meteors in reverse. The rocks went up in a fountain and came
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back down as black hail.</p>
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<p>Below the edge of the gorge, the face they had crawled up in
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panic, where Danny had slung the curved stick to knock the man off
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his feet, the whole slope shivered, shuddered, then all of it
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peeled away in an avalanche of rock and shale. The edge where Danny
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and Corky had sprawled slowly slipped away with a huge roar and Tom
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was surprised that he could hear it. It was not as loud as the
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percussion of the bomb, but the earth shivered even more violently.
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Corky and Danny held on to Doug as the ground began to slide from
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under them. They could feel the rumble of it moving, the bucking
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dance of ground in motion. Doug turned, crawled upwards, making his
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feet move faster than the sliding surface. Corky hauled on his
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collar.</p>
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<p>From their vantage point, Tom and Billy could see the narrow
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ridge shatter and crack on the far side, the thin shoulder that
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separated this gorge from the next, where they had discovered the
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backed-up lake. The whole top end, a hump of volcanic basalt rock
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maybe some twelve feet high and six wide, was pushed outward by the
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enormity of the blast.</p>
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<p>The three others scrabbled desperately to avoid being dragged
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down in the avalanche into the corrie below them. They got to solid
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earth, pushed themselves up onto the bracken, kept coming. Tom
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could hear them yelling frantically, but his eyes were fixed on the
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far side. Beside him Billy stood like stone, legs braced, eyes
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wide, mouth even wider.</p>
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<p>Corky reached them, his face grey with shale dust. He had Doug
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still by the collar as if he was unable to let it go. Blood was
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trickling from Danny's mouth. Tom's burst nose gave him no pain
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yet.</p>
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<p>They all turned.</p>
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<p>Down below, where the lip had started to slip and side, the
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whole side of this gorge bulged outwards, undercut by the blast.
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The ringing in Corky's ears stopped suddenly. He saw Danny push his
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palms against his own ears as if trying to clear the pressure. For
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an instant there was an absolute silence and then something popped
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and Corky heard the bass rumbling thunder.</p>
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<p>The slope bulged, swelled as if a gigantic bubble were inflating
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underneath the ground. The lip where they'd been sliding just
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dropped from sight. Jagged, horizontal cracks, more or less
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parallel, appeared in steps above that and almost instantly, in a
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jagged succession, they fell away in slices. The ground bucked
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again , almost hard enough to throw them off their feet.</p>
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<p>"Back!" Tom bleated and everybody heard him this time except
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Doug, but Corky still had a hand to his collar and he simply
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dragged him further up into the heather.</p>
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<p>Over on the far side of the defile, another series of horizontal
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cracks appeared, broken by vertical fissures that suddenly raced up
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the opposite face towards the ridge. The great boulder at the top
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shuddered and then rocked, not slowly, but surprisingly fast,
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twisting as it did.</p>
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<p>Streamers of debris and shrapnel were falling down around them
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and there was no cover. The hawthorn tree was tumbling through the
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air, both trunks in pirouette around each other. Rocks hit all
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around them. Further up the slope, behind them so they did not see
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it yet, a blazing piece of metal had set the dry summer couch grass
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alight. It would eventually burn eastwards and blacken miles of the
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moorland. The five of them stood there, transfixed once more. Tom
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pulled a numb Billy down beside him. By a miracle, the outsplash
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hit none of then, though all around them it was rapping and
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thudding on the grass in a deadly hail, like shot from the gun.</p>
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<p>On the far side, the rock shoulder slumped. A series of mudstone
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boulders shot out like squeezed pips in a cannonade powerful enough
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to spit them across the gorge to smack into the other side which
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was now a full-blown avalanche. The noise of grinding, rolling rock
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was unbelievable.</p>
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<p>The ridge twisted under its own weight, then fell away, slowly
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at first, then falling into the next gully. Sharp cracks of broken
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stone came out like grenades and then the ridge just fell from
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sight.</p>
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<p>"<em>Christ on a bike!</em>," Doug bawled, and his words were
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almost strangled by the death grip Corky had on his collar. Danny
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was speechless.</p>
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<p>Below them the rockface slumped down into the corrie with a huge
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grinding. Over on the opposite side, the rock ridge toppled out of
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sight and slammed against something with such force that they felt
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the shock of it tremble under their feet from almost eighty yards
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away.</p>
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<p>The shiver caused more of the ground on this side to slip. Danny
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pulled Corky who dragged Doug without any ceremony. Tom and Billy
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followed on. They scurried, stiff, sore and numb, but miraculously
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alive, along the edge of the heather, gaining height on the curve
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of land which connected the twin, narrow gorges. From that distance
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they could turn and see what was happening.</p>
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<p>"Look at that," Danny yelled. Corky held a hand up to his
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ear.</p>
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<p>"What?"</p>
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<p>Danny pointed and everybody looked. The side of the valley, the
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one they had scrambled up in panic and fear, was sliding down in
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one huge sheet of shale and mudstone. Small pieces of rock were
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shooting out to tumble down to the little rivulet beyond the basin
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of the corrie.</p>
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<p>Over on the other side of the ravine, they could now see from
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the vantage point of the high ground, the great rock on the ridge
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shoulder had rolled down to crash against the basalt walls which
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virtually bisected the valley. Behind them, Lonesome Lake stretched
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blackly, pocked by falling pieces of stone and twigs. The immense
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block of stone had rolled close to the top end of the wall where it
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bedded into the side of the valley, and now it was rocking
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massively back and forth.</p>
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<p>"It's going to.....," Corky bawled.</p>
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<p>The huge stone swung forward, back, teetered and then seemed to
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reach a point of equilibrium. Underneath its weight, the layer of
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mudstone began to crumble. Shards spat outwards on puffs of
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pulverised dust. The rock jarred, swung and then rolled. It all
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seemed to go in ponderous slow motion, but it took only a couple of
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seconds for it to tumble down the steep slope.</p>
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<p>It hit the wall where the trees and twigs and muddy peat had
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formed the natural dam, hit it with such a colossal jarring blow
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that the basalt dyke shivered under the impact. One side of it, a
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foot back from the water-worn crevice that had been cut by
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thousands of years of tumbling water, cracked and splintered,
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sending fissures growing up it like instant black branches. A
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squirt of fine water hosed out from the blockage, maybe ten feet up
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from the base. Lower down, where the new cracks spiderwebbed the
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rock wall a fine spray hissed, almost invisible. Another spurted
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out, black and dirty, arcing out into the narrow gully. The edge of
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the wall bulged the way the side of the face had done. It seemed to
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breathe, stop, breath again. Behind it millions of gallons pushed
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with irresistible pressure. The cracks on the weakened wall close
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to the plug of twigs and branches, feathered out, flaked. There was
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a heartbeat of a pause when nothing happened.</p>
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<p>Then the dam burst.</p>
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<p>It exploded outwards, taking the barrier of logs and everything
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else with it. The thick trunk that had formed the main blockage
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went tumbling out like a caber, end over end. It smacked into a
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rock fifty feet down the gorge and snapped like a dead twig.</p>
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<p>The water came out behind it in a roar that sounded somehow
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alive and ferocious. The wall of water came pushing out in a
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foaming cascade, taking rocks and sticks and everything with it. It
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shot straight out, hit the right hand bend in the gully where it
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turned to empty into the valley, and the bounding debris simply
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carved its own way through. Pieces of quartz and old red sandstone
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rolled along in blocks six feet high, carried by the enormous bore
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of water. The noise was cataclysmic.</p>
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<p>The five of them watched, stunned once more to silence as the
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dam burst and the huge front of water went rushing down the defile.
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The two halves of the jagged trunk which had blasted out were
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picked up again and thrown into the air, tumbling again. One thick
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section speared the shale on the far side, embedded into the ground
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before the water caught it again, plucked it free, and dragged it
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down onto the valley. The avalanche of water, stone and silty mud
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came crashing out into the main valley of Blackwood Glen in a vast
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torrent that unleashed all the pent-up weight and power that had
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been the deeps of Lonesome Lake. Down there, they could see the
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little ridge where the hawthorn trees grew in a line, the place
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where the four of them had sat out the long night while Corky
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gnawed grimly at the wire. The front hit the hawthorns and simply
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swept them sway. They could see the branches and the roots wave
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violently as they tumbled before it, then tumbled inside it. The
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next second, the flood swept over the campsite, a wall of brown and
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white that was ten feet deep, surging with foam, the colour of mud.
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The tent flipped up. An enamel plate spun into their air like a
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frisbee. In a split second the campsite was gone. The circle of
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stones was scattered like billiard balls. The torrent smacked
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against the alders and hawthorns on the far side, splintering
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trunks and uprooting the ferns. A whole section of turf simply slid
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down, undercut by the sharp stones which were dragged and scraped
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along like a rasp-file.</p>
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<p>The rampart of water reached the turn where Corky has been
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ambushed by the raggedy man, flinging stones ahead of it to embed
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themselves in the opposite slope, then the flood hit the trees,
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snapping the first ones like matchwood, great spruce trees, tall
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and straight, that had stood a hundred years and more, sending up a
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fusillade of gunshot over the roar of the devastation. The gully
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they had followed to reach the dam which held the backed up lake
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was changed forever, two of the turns, left and right, had simply
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been ground away to form a straight gash.</p>
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<p>The camp site was gone, taking with it the ruined tent and their
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old haversacks and the deer's rotted head, the gun, every shred of
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evidence that they had ever been there.</p>
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<p>Over on the gorge to the left, where they had climbed the face,
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pursued by the madman, the geography had utterly changed.</p>
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<p>The steep slope was no longer there. It had peeled and slid,
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taking with it the lip where the hawthorn tree had clung, and where
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Doug and Danny and Corky had fallen and tumbled before clambering
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for their lives after the blast. There was no slope, only a new,
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sheer face where the lines of mudstone sandwiched the thicker
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layers of gravel from the last ice age. It dropped almost a hundred
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feet into what once had been the little basin of the corrie that
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they'd reached after the scrambling, desperate climb up the shale
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slope.</p>
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<p>The corrie was gone.</p>
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<p>In its place, a huge mound of rubble and stone and gravel
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remained, hundreds, maybe thousands of tons of rock, still steaming
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and smoking and billowing dust. Trickles of rocks and stones ran
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down the flanks in miniature avalanches as the slip shuddered and
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settled under its own weight.</p>
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<p>Above them, a vast cloud of smoke was roiling in the once blue,
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once white sky, turning it black, shrouding them in its shadow.</p>
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<p>Below them, where the corrie basin had been, was a vast spoil
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heap of rock and shale, altered forever from what it had been in
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the nightmare chase, the panicked, desperate dash for freedom.</p>
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<p>The man with the twitchy eyes was underneath it. He was buried
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under this new hill.</p>
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<p>For a long time they stood there, listening to the crackling in
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their ears, listening to the scouring roar of Lonesome Lake as it
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drained away, scraping the valley clean of everything that had been
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there, alive or dead, carrying it all down in a cataclysmic swathe
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of destruction through the forest downstream. In the distance, they
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could see the tops of the trees whipping back and forth as the
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torrent shook them to their roots.</p>
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<p>After a while, the noise began to subside and the flow began to
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lessen. They still stood there, frozen, numb, rooted, hardly able
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to breathe, while around them the dust billowed and the smell of
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burning was hot on the air.</p>
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<p>The grey, bare mound that now covered the corrie drew their eyes
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towards it like a magnet. They had buried him.</p>
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<p>Far off, way down the slope on the other side, in the direction
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of Blackwood farm, a cock crew. Closer in, but still some distance
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away, a big grey bird flapped into the sky above the trees, gaining
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height, obviously startled by the rushing torrent of water. Danny
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Gillan thought he could hear the hoarse cry of a heron.</p>
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<p>Down in the depths, where the campsite had been, there was
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nothing to show that anybody had been there, neither boys nor
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madman.</p>
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<p>After a long time, as one, the boys of them turned to head for
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home. For an even longer time, nobody said a word.</p>
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