to regain their breath, their composure. The squeals from the enraged vermin sent shivers running through them.
Presently, Dealey voiced what they all knew. They'll find other ways into the sewer.'
Culver opened his eyes and was relieved to see the flashlight he had dropped had been saved.
Fairbank held the Ingram above water level, his face a taut mask, eyes staring and particularly white against the contrast of his dirt-grimed face. Kate's head was against her knees, loose, bedraggled hair falling around her face. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch her, knowing there was precious little time for comfort. Ellison and Dealey held the torches, the latter also clutching the Browning automatic; there seemed to be barely any strength left in either of them.
Culver stretched out a hand. 'Let me have the gun.'
Dealey hardly had to move to give it to him, so close were the walls of the channel. 'It got wet when I fell into the water; I had it in my pocket.'
Culver took the gun, praying it would still fire. 'Ellison -the flashlight.'
Without argument, the engineer passed it over.
'Any idea which way we should go?' Culver asked Dealey. The sound of his voice sent the squealing above their heads into a new furore.
'No. I don't have much idea of the sewer network and I'm completely disorientated anyway.' He glanced up nervously into the opening above.
Then we'll move in this direction,' Culver indicated with the Browning to his left. That's the way the water's flowing, so it must lead somewhere.' He rose, crouching because of the low ceiling, and climbed over the others. ‘Ill lead. Kate, you stick close to me. Fairbank, you bring up the rear.'
They all scrambled to their feet, desperately tired and
limbs aching, but keen to be moving. They waded after Culver through the filthy water, the foul smell considerably less unpleasant than the other odours of that day. It was difficult to walk, for the sluggish water leadened their feet, and the constant crouching put added stress on their legs. Yet it was a relief when the sounds of the vermin faded behind them.
They splashed onwards, water trickling through to the channel from other, smaller outlets on either side.
The curving walls were covered in lichen and repulsive to touch; here and there, brickwork had fallen inwards, leaving dark impenetrable gaps. Soon a new sound reached their ears and they paused to listen.
'It's rushing water,' Dealey said. There must be a main sewer ahead of us.'
'And a way out,' added Ellison.
'Yes, there has to be.'
Their pace quickened and the rushing noise quickly became a mild roar. They stumbled on, ignoring the small things that bumped against their shins, the occasional pocket of gaseous fumes, constantly slipping on the smooth floor beneath the water, but rising to their feet instantly, not stopping to regain breath or rub bruised knees. It wasn't long before they entered the bigger centre channel.
It was at least twelve feet across, the ceiling curved and high. On either side of the swift-moving stream, its spumes-cent surface littered with debris, were causeways wide enough to walk on. As they shone the flashlights in either direction, they saw other conduits and outlets spilling their contents into the main sewer.
They stepped up onto the causeway on their side, each of them feeling a sudden lift in spirits at this new sight.
We're lucky,' Dealey said over the noise. This tunnel
must have been completely flooded when the rainfall was at its worst.'
'I can't see any ladders.' Fairbank was shining his torch more carefully in one direction, then the other.
Culver did the same to add more light.
There'll be some further along. I would think there's a storm weir in that direction ...' Dealey indicated the water's flow'... so we may find a way out along there.'
Culver felt a hand slide round his waist and looked down to see Kate gazing up at him.
'Are we safe now?' she asked, her eyes imploring.
He couldn't lie. 'Not yet. Soon, though.' He briefly pulled her to his chest and kissed her hair. 'Keep your eyes open,' he told them all. Then he was moving on once again, the others filing close behind.
The rushing water reminded him of the flooded Underground tunnel and his mind wandered back further, to the desperate race against the fallout, the journey along the railway track - the first encounter with the mutant rats. And his first sight of the terrified, frozen girl who was Kate. He thought of the long, trouble-strewn days inside the Kingsway shelter, the first expedition into the shattered world above. The dying, begging people. The rabid dog. Bryce. He remembered the fight back against the floodwaters, the rebellion inside the shelter itself. And then the invasion of rats, the flooding of the Exchange, the terrible struggle to escape. He thought of Dr Clare Reynolds.
Strangely, this day and the day before were just a mad, turbulent blur, with no order, no sense. An insane jumble of visions and stenches. Mixed with death.
One element was common throughout, apart from the weeks of waiting inside the shelter: since the first bomb had dropped he had been running, running, running. Even now he had not stopped and he began to wonder if he ever would, for there would be more danger to face in the new world outside, where only the insects and scavenger beasts could thrive. Perhaps there were no more places left where people could rest.
'Hey! You missed something! Over there.' Fairbank was casting his beam towards the opposite causeway.
Culver aimed his own flashlight in that direction and saw the opening, a passageway beyond. He could just make out stone steps further back. 'Any idea where it could lead?' he asked Dealey.
'Impossible to say. It's not a channel or a drain.'
Culver stared down into the spume-flecked water. We can't risk crossing here. We'll have to go on.'
'Not much further, though,' Kate said excitedly. 'Look, there's a gangway across.'
Deep in thought, Culver had missed both the opening and the small, causeway-connecting bridge in the near distance. They hurried towards it, and found the structure was made of iron, narrow in width, and with just a spindly handrail on one side.
'It has to be fairly close to that passageway for a reason,' commented Ellison. 'It's gonna take us out of here, I know it'
Culver led the way across, testing the bridge's safety with every step. The metal surface was rusted but firm, although the handrail itself wobbled uncertainly. They hurried back the way they had come, this time on the opposite bank, and soon reached the opening. The passageway was at least eight feet high and wide enough for two men to walk along comfortably side by side. The glistening wet stone stairway at the end of the passage was easily visible in the illumination of both flashlights.
It led upwards, into the ceiling.
Kate clutched Culver's arm. 'It's the way out! It has to be!'
Fairbank whooped with glee and even Dealey managed to smile.
What the hell are we waiting for?' cried Ellison, and Culver had to restrain him from charging forwards.
There's a whole network of sewers, conduits and pipes all around us - not to mention passageways such as this. Those rats could be anywhere by now: above, behind or ahead of us. It's their territory, so let's just take it quiet and easy.'
He moved to the foot of the steps and shone the torch upwards. Just beyond ceiling level was another opening, a doorway. He began to mount the stairs, taking them slowly, one at a time. The others, heeding his warning but nevertheless impatient, crowded behind him.
Culver reached the top and saw the door itself was old and rotted, a rusted metal sheet battened to its surface. It was open about two feet. He shone in the beam and saw another long corridor. Like the previous one, puddles covered the floor and its walls were of old, crumbling brickwork. It appeared to stretch a long way.