Хэммонд Иннес - Nothing to Lose [= Campbell’s Kingdom]

It was probably only a few seconds that I hesitated there, not finding the courage to commit myself irrevocably to that awful drop, but it seemed like an age. Then at last I eased the tension slightly on the rope, and the cage dropped down from the lip, seeming to plunge sickeningly on the steep drop down the cliff face. Nervously I strained at the rope till I was hardly moving. But as I gained confidence in the brake system I let it move faster, so that soon I was past the steepest point and leveling out in a long glide toward the pylon on the slide top. Once I looked back, fearful that the dam was breaking up behind me and the pent-up waters of the lake were thundering over the edge of the fault.

The pylon slid by and then I was running almost free to the concrete housing. Below me I saw men pausing in their work to look up at me, faces gleaming white in the sunlight. I shouted to them that the dam was breaking, as I swung over their heads, and they stared at me with vacant, uncomprehending expressions. Either they didn’t believe me or they didn’t understand what I was saying, for I started no panic; they just stared at me and then got on with their work. And then I was past them and dropping down to the housing. I slid into it gently and climbed out and started back up the roadway to the site where they were working. I reached a bunch of trucks unloading materials. I yelled to the men around them to get them moving back to the camp where they would be safe.

“The dam’s breaking up!” I shouted at them. I climbed to the cab of the first truck and signaled with the horn to the men working on the site. “Get back to the camp!” I shouted to them at the top of my voice. “The dam’s going! Get back to the camp!”

My voice seemed a thin reed in the vastness of the place. It was lost in the clatter of the concrete mixers and the din of metal on stone. But here and there men were stopping to stare at me and then talk to the men working near them. One or two dropped their tools and moved toward me. I kept on shouting to them, my throat, dry with fear and the sweat running out of every pore. I hadn’t realized it would be so difficult to get them started up to the camp to safety. But here and there men began to move, and in a moment it seemed the word buzzed through the whole site and they began to move away from the slide toward the timber, slowly, like bewildered sheep.

And then Trevedian was there, shouting at them, telling them to get back to work. “What are you?” he roared at them. “A bunch of yellow-bellies to be fooled into hiding away in the woods because this fellow Wetheral is so mad at us for drowning the Kingdom that he comes down here shouting a lot of nonsense about the dam? He’s a screwball, you know that. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been drilling for oil up there! Now get back to work and don’t be so easily fooled!” He turned and came toward me. “You get the hell out of here!” he shouted. His face was dark with anger.

The men had stopped, standing uncertainly where they stood. My eyes lifted involuntarily to the cleft between the peaks. Was it my imagination or was the veil of white that wavered down the face of the fault wider and bigger. My legs felt weak and my throat was dry. I had to suppress a great desire to run.

I shouted to them again to get clear while they could. “Do you think I’d risk coming down the hoist on the brakes, leaving my friends up there, if the situation wasn’t serious? There was a hole a yard wide halfway down the dam when I left! It will be a lot bigger now! Any minute the whole thing may collapse! The original structure was built of dud cement!” I glanced up again at the cleft. “Well, if you won’t save yourselves, I can’t help it! I’ve done my best!” I jumped down from the truck and started to run. I thought that would get them moving. Trevedian thought so too. Doubt and uncertainty and the beginnings of fear showed in the faces of some of those nearest to me. He swung back toward me, started forward to intercept me and then stopped. “Max!” His voice was sharp, domineering. “Max, stop him!”

I glanced quickly toward the timber. It was about fifty yards away, and between me and it stood the huge, bear-like figure of Max Trevedian.

“Get him, Max!” Trevedian turned to his men. “And you, stay where you are! Why, we’ve only just built the dam! We’ll soon see what all this is about!... Max! Get hold of him!”

Max had already started forward, moving toward me at a shambling run, his great arms swinging loose. I stopped. “Don’t be a fool, Max! Stay where you are!”

I heard Trevedian telling his men to stay where they were, telling them he’d soon find out what all this was about, and then my hand touched the gun in my pocket. “Max!” I shouted. “Stay where you are.” And as he came steadily on, my fingers, automatically finding the opening to my pocket, slipped in and closed over the butt of the gun. I took it out.

Max was not more than thirty yards from me now. I glanced quickly up toward where the men were standing in a close-pocked huddle. They were scared and uncertain. Once Max reached me, I knew I’d never get them moving in time. It was Max or them — one man or nearly a hundred.

“Max,” I screamed, “stay where you are!” And then, as he came on, I raised the weapon slowly, took careful aim at his right leg above the knee and fired.

The report was a thin, sharp sound in the rock-strewn valley. Max’s mouth opened, a surprised look on his face. He took two stumbling steps and then pitched forward onto his face and lay there, writhing in pain.

“You swine! You’ll pay for this!”

I swung round to find Trevedian coming at me. I raised the gun. “Get back!” I said. And then, as he stopped, I knew I had the situation under control for the moment. “Now get out of here, all of you!” I ordered. “Any man who’s still around in one minute from now will get shot! And get to high ground! Now get moving!” To start them, I sent a bullet whistling over their heads. They turned then and made for the timber, bunched close together like a herd of stampeding cattle. Only Trevedian and the man who was with him stood their ground. “Get your brother out of here to safety,” I ordered him.

He didn’t move. He was staring at me, his eyes wide and unblinking. “You must be crazy,” he murmured.

“Don’t be a fool!” I snapped. “Come on! Get your brother out of here!”

“That dam was all right. Government engineers inspected it at every stage. We had engineers in to inspect it before we started the work of completing it.” He shook his head angrily. “I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it.” He turned to the man beside him, “We’ll see if we can get them on the hoist phone. If not. I’m going up there. Will you run the engine for me?”

“Don’t be a fool,” I said. “Every moment you delay—”

“Oh, go to hell!” he shouted. “Come on, George!” They started at a run for the cable terminal. For a second I considered tiring, trying to stop them. But my fractional hesitation had put them out of effective range. Maybe he’d make it.

I turned away and went over to where Max lay with his body doubled up over a big splinter of rock. His face was bloodless and he was unconscious. His right leg was twisted under him and blood was seeping onto the stones, a crimson splash in the sunlight. I got hold of him by the arms and began to drag him over the rocks. He was incredibly heavy. Each time I paused I called toward the line of the trees, hoping one of the men would have the guts to come back and help me. But the timber seemed silent and empty. In shooting Max I had finally convinced them of the urgency or the danger, just as I had convinced Trevedian himself.

Foot by foot, I dragged Max’s body along the stone-packed road, up the hill to the timber. Every few yards I had to pause. I heard the Diesel start up and saw the cage move out of its staging, Trevedian still working on the cradle, tapping home the pins that locked the driving cable to it.