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