'A mutant rat,' said Culver. 'Of the same strain as the Black, but ... different.' Dealey's words came back to him.
He had said there were two breeds, born of the same altered gene. 'A grotesque', Dealey had called it.
It was an inadequate description. He had implied they were undergoing some genetic transformation. Oh Christ, so this was the result!
There was a rustling, not far away.
Nerves taut, ready to snap, both men whirled around, the light beam stabbing at the darkness.
'Over there!' Fairbank pointed.
Shapes were moving. A mewling sound to their left made them turn in that direction. Other movements, scuffling in the darker corners.
'It's like before,' Fairbank said in dismay. They're not all dead.'
Culver swept the light over the sluggishly heaving forms. They can't harm us. Listen to them. They're weak, dying. They're frightened of us!'
A black shape disengaged itself from the mass. It tried to crawl towards them, hissing as it came, but it could hardly move. Fairbank aimed the gun.
Before he could fire, a squealing scream came from a far corner. The two men looked wide-eyed at each other, then towards its source.
The kid!' exclaimed Fairbank.
The torch beam reached the far corner, but too many other objects were in the way for a clear view.
'Let's get her and then get out!' Culver urged. He held the axe ready. 'Shoot at anything that moves, try and clear a path!'
They set off, both men determinedly keeping panic in check, making for the corner where the piteous crying had resumed. Only now the sound was different, more shrill... less like a child's ... more like ...
A hail of rapid phuts overshadowed the other noises as
Fairbank fired at the obscenely bloated bodies. He could not be sure that they moved, but was taking no chances. The creatures seemed to pop with small explosions.
A Black rat rose up in front of Culver, standing on its haunches so that it looked immense. It snarled and hissed at him, blood-flecked foam dripping from bared teeth, but Culver could see the animal had no strength, only instinctive hatred driving it on.
Blood splattered Culver's hand as he brought the axe down on the thin skull.
The two men kicked ground bones aside as they made their way towards the crying child, scuffing up white powder and looking away from dismembered human parts. As Fair-bank stepped over an inert pink form, the creature raised its sinister, pointed head, toothless jaws attempting to snap at his ankle.
The engineer stamped down hard and felt bones crunch beneath his foot.
The mewling increased in pitch, became an intense swell of squealing, of helpless ululation ... infantile wailing...
Childish crying...
The realization struck Culver like an icicle dagger. He almost stumbled, almost fell among the fearful writhing bodies. He tried to reach out and bring Fairbank to a halt, but it was already too late. They were there. They had reached the far corner. They had reached the Mother Creature's nest.
'Oh ... my ... God ... N0\' Fairbank sobbed as they looked down at the throbbing, pulsating flesh and its terrible spawn.
'It can't be,' Fairbank moaned. 'It ... just ... can't ... be...'
In another section not too far away, from a hole in the crumbled brick wall, came the sounds of scuffling, of scampering clawed feet.
Kate, Dealey and Ellison flinched when they heard the gunfire. Kate stood perilously close to the edge of the collapsed floor, attempting to shine the flashlight into the doorway through which Culver and Fairbank had disappeared.
'Steve!' she called, but only heard more soft gunfire. And in the pauses, an awful ululation, a strident, piercing screeching. She turned to the others. We must help them!'
There's nothing we can do,' Dealey told her. His throat was dry, he could barely speak; the hand gripping the Browning would not keep still. 'Keep ... keep the light... on the doorway as a ... as a ...
guide for them,' he stammered.
Ellison remained on the other side of the broken boards, inside the darkened room, listening to the dreadful sounds, the trembling in his legs making it difficult for them to support his body. His hands were clawed against his face, his eyes staring and seeing nothing but blackness. They were crazy, crazy to stay here, crazy not to run, to get out while they had the chance, crazy to think they could defend themselves against so many. Culver and Fairbank were finished. Nothing could save them! The rats would rip them to pieces and then come searching for the girl, Dealey and himself! Why hadn't they listened to him? The stupid, bloody fools!
He looked towards the source of light, seeing Dealey's
silhouette, the man leaning forward into the opening, clutching the gun. The gun! He had to take the gun! And the flashlight - he would need the flashlight!
Ellison moved quickly.
Dealey turned as the Browning was snatched away, tried to protest, but was pushed back against the doorway, shards of splintered wood digging into his back.
Gun held forward, Ellison made a grab for the flashlight. 'Give it to me? he screamed as Kate tried to pull away.
He caught her arm, yanking her inwards. She fell, tried to kick out at him, but a hand smacked her viciously across the face. She cried out, falling backwards. The flashlight was taken from her.
Dealey tried to intervene and Ellison pushed him away once more. He levelled the gun at him. Tm leaving!' The engineer's words were spat out. ‘You can come with me, or you can stay. But I'm getting out now!'
The others ...' Dealey began to say.
We can't help them! They've had it!'
Ellison began to back away, keeping the weapon pointed at the two figures, who were blinded by the flashlight. Then he turned and began to run, heading for the door at the other end of the room, away from the mayhem below, away from his companions. And, he foolishly thought, away from the vermin.
Fairbank shouted his abhorrence, screamed his fear, as he fired at the huge swollen mass before them.
The creature screeched, the sound of a hurt, terrified child, and attempted to lift her obese body, tried to protect herself, her two jaws snapping ineffectively, her useless limbs thrashing the ground, trampling and scattering the tiny offspring that had suckled at her breasts.
Bullets ripped into her, explosions of blood spurting out in dark jets, drenching the two men, soaking the earth around her, covering the blind, squealing things beneath her with its sticky fluid. In a paroxysm of agony, she rose up, exposing her sickening, fleshy underbelly, several of her brood still clinging to the many breasts that dangled there. A frenzied hail of bullets tore her open, a waterfall of blood gushing out, carrying with it internal organs that steamed in the dank atmosphere. Still she moved, still she writhed, falling again, but incredibly shuffling her way towards the two men.
Fairbank's howling cry mingled with the muted crackling of the weapon, his face lit up with the bright flashes, his eyes demented with loathing, with revulsion for the monstrosity coming towards them. The massive, throbbing body began to come apart, the rising curved spine shattering into splinters, bursting outwards like shrapnel; flesh ruptured and
parts pulverized as bullets tore through; one barely raised claw was shredded to pulp. Yet still it advanced.
The pointed head, its incisors like curled tusks, the eyes white, sightless, weaved in front of them; a strange stump protruded from her shoulder next to the head, an opening within it which could only have been another mouth, spitting blood-specked drool.
Culver sank to his knees, strength draining from his legs. He stared at the heinous deformity, the misbegotten grotesque, horrified, his muscles numbed. But as her foul breath and her spittle touched his cheek, the shock was punctured.