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herself.

Moving her hand to the throttle, she cut the power. Ahead I saw the low bridge blocking our path and we drifted, slowing to the speed of the current.

“How do we get…?” I said, but Cassie cut me off.

“It’s a swing bridge,” she said, as if listening to my thought before I’d given it voice. “Someone will have to get out to operate it.”

I stared at the low metal bridge, tracing the painted white railings running along the top. Cassie turned to the deck below.

“Someone needs to get off and swing the bridge out of the way.”

I turned, peering around the reluctant faces, catching only Alex nodding in reply.

“Alex and I will do it,” I said.

Thompson paused for a moment before hurrying to push the last parts of the rifle back together.

“We’ll cover,” he said, and Sherlock glared up as Gibson nodded, shivering but still with a smile, slipping his arms back into a dry long-sleeved fleece.

“Hang on,” Cassie said, turning away from looking to the bridge as we drew slowly closer. “It opens outwards. We might be able to push it out of the way without getting off the boat.”

I turned, looking to the handrails coming into focus and the wooden deck only wide enough for two people to walk side by side. To the left the underside of the bridge was much larger than the right and I guessed it was the side where it hinged to the bank, the mechanism hidden by a stone surround.

Cassie lifted the throttle levers and we edged in close. Without being told, I braced myself as we slowed. Turning back, Thompson’s pistol trained out across the horizon and the two rifles in the other soldier’s grips covered the other two-thirds of the view, ready for whatever might lie in ambush.

I thought about jumping to the deck and glancing the shotgun around the view when Cassie spoke.

“Get forward and push. I don’t want to risk the hull.” Her words were aimed at Alex, Jess and me. We climbed around the thin ledge, holding the metal rail as we shuffled to the front deck. Not able to take my gaze from the murky water, I stared, searching out what waited should we fall in.

Despite the boat travelling at barely a crawl, the bridge came at us too quickly. Cassie let the throttle out in reverse and we slowed, bringing our outstretched hands to the bridge’s white handrail and we curled our grips to the cold metal. It was clear the hull of the boat could fit under the bridge, but anything above that level had no chance unless we drained the canal.

After checking we each had a hold, I nodded back to Cassie and the engine came to life. Taking a step back, surprised by the movement, I regained my stance and pushed. For a moment, its weight forced us back and it felt as if the bridge was stuck in place.

Just as I thought I would fall backwards, the bridge moved and I had to let it go when it swung out of reach, leaving only Alex to the far left to keep its momentum until it slammed into its stone home at the side of the bank.

It was only then I deciphered the hushed words between the soldiers as we’d pushed the metal. Had they seen something?

A sudden fear rushed through me when the heavy metal structure bounced against the stone, the bridge heading back our way, swinging into our path to send us into the murky water where more of those things could be waiting below the surface. Ready to rush back around the hull, the bridge halted, and we passed through, leaving the rise of adrenaline to drain away.

Back under the cover of the wheelhouse, I tried not to think of what would have happened if it had knocked us off our feet. Instead, I looked to the horizon.

The slow, continual motion forward helped to settle my fear as we travelled along the straight line of the man-made channel. The view from the wheelhouse filled me with confidence, with fields either side. A cluster of smoke columns rose to the sky, turning my thoughts to what could be a town, or perhaps a city ahead.

I had hoped as we headed further out of Exeter the towns might not have been a repeat of what we’d already witnessed and would offer safe transport out of the nightmare, or at least to where the children were. The rising smoke helped dispel the dream.

There was still hope, I reminded myself. Perhaps all was not lost. Perhaps the Royal Navy had a ship just off the coast, ready to pick us up and continue the soldier’s mission. The thoughts dissolved when the waterway narrowed in front of us.

The muddy banks of the canal turned to concrete with a brick building, possibly a hotel or a pub, holding state at a set of lock gates we had no choice but to get out and operate.

70

The words I dreaded came from Cassie, pushing away any thought she could have another trick up her sleeve. “I can’t push this one open.” Her voice remained steady and she didn’t look my way.

Turning to footsteps behind, I watched Thompson beside me, peering at the lock. After looking for just a moment, he jumped to the deck, raising his finger to Gibson.

“Stay on board and I’ll over-watch canal-side.” Gibson nodded through his shakes, moving to the back of the boat as Thompson pointed to Sherlock whilst reaching out for his rifle. “You and...” he said, pointing towards me as if searching for my name as he took the gun, “and you operate the lock. We’d help, but we need to keep watch.”

I replied with a nod, then glanced to Sherlock, who held his expression steeled, a single brow raised.

“You,” Thompson

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