Fairbank's whisper was harsh. They're coming forward again! Taking it slow this time, just creeping along. The bastards are stalking us!'
Culver shoved the blade in as far as it would go. 'Dealey,' he hissed, 'push your fingers through on this side of the drain. Pull when I give you the word.'
'Hurry it up!' Ellison's voice was a frantic whisper.
The light Kate was holding shook madly.
'Okay, now!' Culver leaned on the blade with all his weight and Dealey heaved upwards. For two dreadfully long seconds nothing happened. Then Culver felt something beginning to shift. The drain cover came up with a squelchy sucking and water ran more freely into the widening gap. After the first few inches it swung up more easily and Culver grabbed at its edge pulling it wide. The lid clanged against the passage wall, the signal for all hell to break loose again.
He snatched the flashlight from Kate and shone it into the
opening. The drain was roughly two foot square, large enough for them to climb into. About ten feet below he saw sluggish moving water.
Culver had to shout to make himself heard over the cacophony of muffled bullets and screeching rats, and even then the others could only guess at his meaning. He tugged at Dealey.
'There are no rungs! You'll have to drop down into the water - it shouldn't be too deep! Help Kate when she follows!'
Dealey needed no second bidding. He was horrified at having to jump into such a black, unknown pit, but even more horrified at the idea of being eaten alive. He lowered himself onto the edge, then sank his overweight stomach into the hole, using elbows to hold himself in that position. There was little room to spare, but he managed to scrape through. With an intake of breath, he slid down, hanging onto the edge with his fingertips. Closing his eyes, Dealey dropped.
His belly and chin scraped against rough brickwork and the fall seemed to last an eternity. He cried out as his feet plunged into cold wetness, but the sound was abruptly cut off when he touched the slimy channel bed. He found himself on hands and knees in flowing water, the level just reaching below his hunched shoulders. His figure was bathed in light from above.
'It's all right!' he shouted upwards, almost laughing with relief. 'It's shallow! We can make it through here!'
He thought he heard a shout from above and then another body was blocking out the light. Rising, Dealey realized the roof of the channel was arched, rising to no more than four feet at its apex. He now stood inside the drain shaft through which he had dropped. Loose chippings and water fell onto his upturned face as Kate's feet slid towards him. He reached up and took her weight, endeavouring to lower her gently, the effort almost too much.
Above, one of the guns had stopped firing.
Culver looked anxiously at the two men and saw Fairbank throw his Ingram away.
That's it!' the engineer shouted. 'Empty!'
'Get back here!' the pilot told him, tucking the small axe into his own belt. 'Dealey, here comes the flashlight! For God's sake, don't drop it!' He let the torch fall and was relieved when it found safe hands.
Ellison came with Fairbank, still firing along the tunnel. Fairbank dropped to one knee beside Culver and leaned close. We can't hold them back any longer! One more rush and that's it!'
'Give me the light!' Still pointed towards the vermin, the flashlight was handed to him. The firing had become more sporadic, the rats advancing, then stopping, Ellison having the sense not to waste bullets.
We'll get Ellison down there first, then you,' Culver said to Fairbank, keeping his voice low in between bursts of fire. 'I want you to stay inside the drain to support me when I come through. I'm going to have to pull this cover shut before I come down.'
That's not going to be easy.'
What the fuck is these days?'
Fairbank grunted and stood with Culver, who reached around Ellison and took the gun. 'Get in the hole!'
Ellison could not take his eyes off the sprawl of dark, inert bodies and their more lethal companions -
those who still crept forwards. They know. They know they can take us. Look at them! They're getting ready for the final attack!'
It was true; Culver sensed it. The bristling, quivering motion among the packed bodies was building to fever pitch.
Instinct, cunning, maybe just determination - something told these creatures that their enemy had become more vulnerable.
'Get into the drain,' Culver said evenly and Ellison moved away. The pilot faced the rats, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other. 'Is he down yet?' he called quietly over his shoulder.
'Nearly,' Fairbank replied.
‘You next.'
'Okay, but first back up until you're on this side of the hole. It'll make things easier for you.'
Hands reached out and guided Culver around the opening. Fairbank clapped his shoulder and wriggled into the drain.
'Make it quick,' he said before dropping from view. ‘Ill be waiting.' He was gone and Culver was alone.
Alone except for the creeping mutants.
He gently eased himself into a sitting position, gun and flashlight held chest-high, then slid his legs over the edge. Now comes the tricky part, he thought.
The rats sensed their prey was escaping. The squeals rose to high-pitched screeches as they surged forward.
Culver squeezed the trigger, knowing he would never contain this charge. Bullets thudded into rushing bodies, spinning them over, ripping them apart. But still they came, splashing through the water, a solid, heaving mass.
With a cry of fear, Culver pushed himself off the edge, his elbows catching his weight before he dropped down completely. He kept firing and the rats kept coming, pushing past those that fell, brushing aside their wounded, pure fury storming them forward.
Culver's feet scrabbled around below him until firm hands grabbed his ankles and guided them. He triggered one last
spray of bullets, then knew he had no choice. He dropped the flashlight, grabbed the drain cover and ducked.
He felt the support beneath him dropping too, giving him room to manoeuvre in the confined space. He stayed crouched just beneath the grating, knowing it had not sunk properly into its home.
Take the gun!' he called down, lowering the weapon as far as he could. Someone, probably Fairbank, took it from him. The drain was brilliantly lit by torchlight.
Culver lifted the cover just a little, pulling his fingers from the opening immediately when something sharp brushed their tips. Using the flat of his palms, he tried again. The weight above him was tremendous and he knew the vermin were swarming over the cover. He could hear their squeals only inches away from his face. He felt talon-like claws through the slits of the drain cover, tearing into his hands, and he ignored the pain, using all his strength to lift and slide the lid round. Fairbank's shoulders trembled beneath him, but the stocky engineer held firm, assisting him as much as he could.
The cover closed with a firm, satisfying thud. The rats frantically scraped at the other side, their screeching reaching a crescendo. Culver could not see them, but he felt their hot, fetid breath on his face.
He allowed himself to slowly collapse and Fairbank sensing it was all right to do so, gently lowered him.
Other hands supported him and he gratefully sank into the running water.
He rested there, head back against the slimy brick wall of the channel, brownish water flowing over his lap, his hands clasped around his knees, breathing in deep lungfuls of stale air, his eyes closed. The others sprawled in similar positions, too exhausted to care about the soaking. They listened to the scrabbling, the frustrated scraping above them while trying