‘What is it, Vic?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘It sounds like rain.’
‘Can’t be. Keep still!’
We sat motionless, listening.
The pattering sound was nearer now: a sound of a thousand little leathery feet running over pebbly ground. I knew what the rustling sound was. I’d heard it before: only it wasn’t one or four, but hundreds.
The rats were on the move!
V
I jumped to my feet.
‘Come on. Let’s see how fast you can run.’
‘What is it?’ Paula said, scrambling up.
I grabbed her hand.
‘Rats! Now, come on. Don’t be frightened. We’ll lose them.’
Bent double, we ran down the tunnel. The pattering sound behind us grew louder. We blundered on, stumbling over stones, banging against the rough walls, but keeping up some sort of pace. The tunnel curved to the right; turning the corner, we found more head room. After a few yards it was possible to stand upright
‘Stretch your legs,’ I said, and increased my speed, dragging her along with me.
The going was easier now. We kept on, gasping for breath, running blindly into the darkness. The tunnel seemed endless. Suddenly Paula lurched and would have fallen if I hadn’t swung round and steadied her. She leaned against me, sobbing for breath.
‘I’m done!’ she gasped. ‘I can’t go any farther.’
‘You can, and you’re going to!’
I put my arm round her and forced her on, but we had gone only a few hundred yards when her knees buckled and she sprawled on the ground.
‘Give me a minute. I’ll be all right. Just give me a minute.’
I leaned limply against the wall, my ears cocked, while I struggled to control my laboured breathing. The pattering sound had died away, but I knew we wouldn’t have more than a moment’s respite.
‘We’ve got to keep moving.’
Away in the distance, the pattering sound began again. Paula staggered unsteadily to her feet.
‘Come on,’ I said and, supporting her, went forward at a staggering jog-trot.
After a while she got her second wind, and we began to run again. The sound behind us had become ominously close. Somehow, probably spurred on by the squeaking and pattering behind us, we managed to increase our speed. We came to another intersection and without pausing to think, I swung right, dragging Paula with me. We pelted down a long, high tunnel.
Ahead of us the tunnel began to narrow. I flashed the beam of the torch to see where we were going. Before us was an archway, no more than a hole in the wall.
‘In here,’ I panted, pushed her through the archway and staggered in after her.
We found ourselves in a big, lofty cave. As I swung the beam around, lighting up the walls, I saw a great pile of wooden boxes standing in the middle of the cave.
Paula cried, ‘There’s no way out, Vic!’
She was right. We had blundered into a cul-de-sac. There was no escape now. We couldn’t go back. The rats were already rushing down the outside tunnel.
‘Quick! Block the entrance with those boxes! It’s our only chance!’
We rushed to the pile of boxes, grabbed one apiece, staggered with them to the entrance, dumped them and jumped back for two more. We had the first row in place when we smelt the rats.
There was something blood-curdling and ghastly in the smell that drifted into the cave as the pattering feet came rushing down the long length of the tunnel.
‘As fast as you can.’
I grabbed hold of two boxes, dragged them across the floor, swung them into place. As Paula ran back for another box, I turned the beam of the torch into the outside tunnel. The sight that met my eyes sent a chill up my spine.
The whole of the narrow floor of the tunnel was carpeted by a heaving mass of brown, furry bodies. The sound of their shrill squeaking, the rustling tails and pattering feet made a nightmare sound of horror.
I snatched out the .25 and fired twice into the seething mass. The crash of gunfire rolled down the tunnel, deafening me, and setting up echo upon echo.
The awful brown carpet swerved, but there was no room for them to retreat. Swarms of rats, stretching the length of the tunnel, prevented those in front from getting away.
The two bullets had brought down three of the monsters, and the rest of them flew at the bodies, piling one on the other, their razor-like teeth slashing and hacking while the air was filled with their horrible, piercing squeals.
I grabbed a box from Paula and set it in place, rushed back and dragged two more across the floor and heaved them up.
As Paula lifted hers into position, a rat sprang through the gap and knocked her over.
Her frantic screams brought me rushing to her. She was flat on her back, hitting out at the rat with both hands, while it snapped viciously, trying to get past her beating hands to her throat
I smashed the gun butt down on its back, grabbed it and threw it over the wall of boxes in one movement.
There was no time to find out if she was hurt. I slung the box she had dropped into the gap and rushed back for more.
She was on her feet now, and came staggering over to help me. We had completed the second row, making a wall four feet high, but it wasn’t enough. The entrance to the cave would have to be entirely blocked if we were going to be safe. Even then, with their numbers and weight, the rats might push over our improvised wall.
‘Keep going,’ I panted. ‘A double row.’
We toiled on, dragging the boxes across the floor, slamming them into place, rushing back for others.
The noise outside was horrifying, and every so often the boxes swayed as the mass of struggling bodies thudded against them.
‘There’s another in!’ Paula screamed
She dropped her box and backed away, her hands protecting her throat.
I swung the beam of the torch, saw something streaking at me through the air, and threw up my arm.
The brute bit into my sleeve, just missing the flesh and hung, its feet scrabbling at my arm.
I dropped the torch, grabbed at its neck, missed, fumbled, and felt its teeth snap into my hand. As it snapped again, I got my grip and broke its back. I tossed it through the remaining gap in the wall and lifted the last box, pushed it into position, sealing the wall.
Paula picked up the torch and came over to me. We examined the wall of boxes. The rats were scrabbling at them, but they were holding.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘One more row and we’ll be safe.’
‘You’re bleeding.’
‘Never mind. Let’s get one more row in place.’
We dragged more boxes across the floor and piled them into position. We were both practically out on our feet, but we kept on somehow until the third row was built up. Then we both flopped down on the floor, exhausted.
After a few moments, Paula made an effort and sat up.
‘Give me your handkerchief and let me fix your hand.’
She bound up the wound, and then flopped down beside me again.
‘What wouldn’t I give for a bottle of Scotch?’ I muttered, slid my arm round her and gave her a little hug. ‘Well, you can’t say we don’t get some excitement, can you?’
‘I’d rather not have it,’ Paula said, her voice shaky. ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life. Do you think they’ll go away?’
To judge by the hideous uproar going on outside, they were set for weeks.
‘I don’t know. Not for some time, anyway. But don’t worry, they can’t get in.’
‘But, Vic, we can’t get out. And if they do go away, we still haven’t found how to get out of here, and the torch won’t last much longer.’