Animatronics

‘Sssh!’

They froze for a moment.

‘What is it?’ he insisted.

‘I heard someone following us.’ She stood very still, listening intently. Kevin studied her carefully for a moment. He turned his head to look back the way they had come. The sounds from the Gallery and the rest of the goldmine were more distant now. There were three distinct crunches, like heavy boots on gravel, and then... nothing.

‘Come on, you’re beginning to spook me now,’ Kevin complained nervously. ‘It’s just the ride – the workings – whatever –’ The attempt to shrug it off did not work, largely because of the way he hefted the gun in his hand and pulled off the safety catch. He took her hand, and led off, at a rather faster pace now.

They left behind a grizzled old miner, pan in hand, swishing gravel in and out of a thin stream of water. A moment after they had gone, he put the pan down and reached for a geologist’s hammer by his side, a flat end to one side of the head and a wicked looking curved spike on the other. He swung the hammer expertly and then, moving very carefully, the three-foot high figure moved off after them.

(...)

‘Doesn’t this damned ride ever end?’ she protested, as the gallery revealed itself.

‘You certainly get your money’s worth,’ observed Kevin, ruefully.

She forced him to a stop as they both recovered a little of their breath. ‘Isn’t there a service hatch, or something?’ she gasped.

‘How d’you think we got in here?’ he replied, with a note of bitterness.

‘Then maybe that’s the way to get out.’

‘What d’you think I’ve been looking for for the past half mile?’ Kevin asked in what was almost a snarl. ‘Well we can’t just –’

Her protest was cut off short as a lump of rock splattered against the wall near her head. As she spun to see where it had come from, another, and then another came whizzing through the air. Instinctively, she raised her arm to protect her head.

Below them was a group of six miners, who had been struggling to right an overturned trolley. They had ceased their otherwise perpetual labours now and were slowly moving up the bank towards them. Across the gallery, another pair, climbing a rock face, had settled on a ledge and were searching for more rocks. In the gloom she could see half a dozen diminutive figures moving out of the tunnel, down the track towards them, crouching low, every hand holding a rock or a weapon.

‘The miners!’ she gasped, incredulously. ‘They’ve come alive!’

She and Kevin also stooped into a low crouch and half-ran, half-stumbled further along the tracks. A hail of rocks shattered all around them and, with a cry of pain, Kevin stumbled and fell, lying still on the ground with blood oozing from a wound behind his ear.

***

The Nightmare Fair, Chapter 4