The desks were pulled back allowing him just enough room to open the door and slip through.
‘I’m going to see if they’re okay, then I’ll check the doors in the corridor,’ he said. ‘Push the barricade back after me.
If I come back fast and bang on the door, tell them to get those ladders up here. But don’t open the door
- I’ll go into the Headmaster’s study and get away from that window.’
He closed the door behind him and heard the grating of the desks being pushed against it. He noticed the door of the Headmaster’s room was wide open. Hurrying to it he breathed a sigh of relief when he found old Ainsley still fussing over the injured Principal.
‘He - he seems fine now, Harris,’ Ainsley said, mopping the Headmaster’s face with a wet flannel.
‘Good. I’m going to check all the doors now and I want you to shut this one after me. Stay here, and if there’s more trouble...‘ he paused, not bothering to explain what he meant by ‘more trouble’, but letting the silence do it for him. ‘If there’s more trouble, go to the window and call to the firemen. They’ll get a ladder up to you.’, He didn’t suggest they join the others in the classrooms - the sight of the blood-soaked Headmaster would frighten them too much. Up to now, the children had been remarkably controlled, but the sight of blood could easily push them over the edge.
He closed the door and walked quickly to the stairs. He opened the door fractionally and peeped through. All clear.
Good. He went through, closed it, and crept down the stairs.
Water was seeping underneath the door at the bottom. He opened it cautiously. The corridor was empty of life. One of the dead rats that had attacked the Headmaster lay in the water. For a moment, Harris thought he saw it move, but realised its body was merely being stirred by the surging water.
He splashed down the corridor, remembering to dose the door behind him but opening all the classroom doors to allow the water to flow more freely. He passed the staffroom and thought he heard noises. The basement was the more urgent problem at the moment. That was where he’d seen most of the rats disappear. He had to make sure the door was still firm, maybe shove some more furniture against it.
He could come back and deal with the staffroom door later. He descended the stairs to the basement, taking care not to slip in the gushing water. He suspected more fire-engines had arrived and the forces outside were using more hoses to completely flood the lower floors.
He reached the bottom and waded towards the door. He could hear frantic scraping, scratching. He leaned forward to listen more intently above the noise of the swirling water.
Yes, they were trying to scrape their way through the door.
He eased the desk back slightly to see what damage they’d done. Christ, cracks were beginning to appear already. He could hear them gnawing at the wood now. Dropping the desk back he plodded to the storeroom. He looked around.
Just the thing, heavy drapes. Old curtains that had been used in the school hall. He dragged them down from the shelf where they’d laid for the best part of a year, ready to be used for the next end-of-term prize-giving. They were heavy, but one would be enough for his purpose.
He left them draped over a bench, to prevent them getting wet and thus heavier, and went to a stack of blackboards.
They were of the old type - they had to be used with easels - and took two. Carrying them outside, he leaned them against the wall. Then he pulled the radiator and the desk back away from the basement door.
He saw bulges in the wood where the rats had nearly eaten their way through. God, they must have strength in those jaws! Quickly he went back to the storeroom and gathered up the curtain. He hurried back in time to see the wood beginning to splinter.
Almost in a panic, he stuffed the material in the crack beneath the door, folding it to make as many layers as possible. He grabbed the blackboards and slid them up against the door, as close to the bottom as the curtain would allow. Then he pushed the table up against the door, and the radiator against that, re-enforcing the barricade with chairs and boxes - anything he could find from the storeroom.
At last satisfied, he leaned back against the wall and regained his breath. He thought he could hear squeals from inside but wasn’t sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him.
By now he was knee-deep in water. He waded to the stairs and climbed up. As he gained the top step he heard a cracking noise coming from the staffroom door. He saw a long black pointed head emerging, still gnawing at the surrounding wood. He stood frozen to the spot. Would it never end?
He looked around desperately and caught sight of the heavy poker he’d used before, still lying in the corridor, almost hidden by the streaming water. He sprang forward, slipped in the wet and fell headlong.
Glancing back, he saw the rat’s shoulders emerge from the widening hole. Frantically, he stumbled forward on all fours, snatched for the poker and got to his feet, using the wall to steady himself.
It was almost as though the rat knew of his intention as it redoubled its attempt to escape from the splintered wood.
Most of its body was out, only its heavy flanks holding it captive.
Harris ran forward, this time taking care not to fall. Without pause, he brought the weapon down upon the twisting skull. Amazingly, it missed as the rat pulled its head to one side, and crashed against the door-frame. The rat bared its large, sharp teeth at the teacher, snapping at him, its eyes glaring venomously. But with some fear in them, Harris noticed, almost with satisfaction. What’s happened to its inscrutability now? It’s scared. Of me! He cried out in blood- lust, bringing the poker down hard upon the thin skull. It split wide open and substance flowed out, the whole body stiffening and then going limp.
Harris felt sick. Killing even monstrosities like this held no pleasure, no triumph. He backed away, knowing the body now blocking the exit for the other rats wouldn’t last long.
It would either be pushed through or its hind-quarters eaten away.
Even as he walked backwards, he saw the body jerking, as though being tugged from behind. Suddenly, half its body dropped from the hole. That’s all it took, he thought. Less than half-a-minute to chew away its hind-quarters! Another black shape began to push its way through. Harris turned and ran, first throwing the poker back at the door, more in frustration than in panic. It missed the rat and clattered to the floor.
The rat was through, another taking its place immediately as it dashed towards the retreating teacher.
The door opened slowly because of the pressure from the few inches of water at its base and Harris barely made it in time. As he slipped through and pulled it shut behind him, he heard the heavy thud of the rat’s body crashing into the other side. Clawing noises soon followed. There was nothing on the stairs that he could jam against the door. He raced up the stairs and through to the next floor, slamming the door shut behind him. He burst into the Headmaster’s study, giving Ainsley a fright. The Headmaster still seemed to be in a state of shock.
Harris ran to the window and leaned out. Ladders from the fire-engines had already been extended to the adjacent classroom windows and firemen were about to clamber in.
‘Over here!’ he cried. ‘Bring one over here - with a hose.’
One of the firemen looked across at him. ‘The hoses are being used below, sir,’ he said, then added,
‘Don’t worry.
We’ll get to you in a moment, sir. Soon as we’ve seen to the children.’
‘Get a hose up here quickly!’ he shouted impatiently.
’We’ve got to stop the bloody things getting up the stairs!’
Without further argument, the firemen began to descend.