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Not 'we'!

They. They'll get slaughtered.

It has nothing to do with me.

I have to get out of here! There must be a way.

And it has to be tonight.

'There must be a way! There must be a bloody—'

'There is a way.'

It wasn't Ronni.

It was Rain Man, sitting up in bed.

Jimmy gave him a hard look. 'I thought you were sleeping.'

'How can I with you two plotting your escape?'

'You weren't supposed to hear that. And there's no plotting going on. And if you squeal on us I swear to God I'll—'

'You'll what? Kill me?' Rain Man laughed. 'You've just saved me. Anyway, I figure I owe you.'

'Whaddya mean?'

'Don't get me wrong, Frankie . . .'

'Frankie?' said Ronni.

'It's a long story,' said Jimmy.

'Short for Frankenstein,' said Rain Man.

'Are you some kind of monster?' asked Ronni.

'No!' He glared at Rain Man. 'What are you talking about?'

'Well, Frankie, I still think you're an arrogant, disloyal, disruptive son of a . . . but I still owe you. And I think I know how you can escape. Both of you, if that's what you want.'

Jimmy stared at him.

'That's what we want,' said Ronni. She nudged Jimmy. He nodded begrudgingly.

'What's the big idea?' he asked.

Rain Man pushed his covers back. He took a deep breath and stood. He immediately sat down again. Ronni went across and offered him her arm. He took it and she helped him up then supported him as he crossed to the window. He leaned on the sill and nodded out. 'Through the fence . . .'

'Through the fence?' Jimmy exploded. 'Do you not think—'

'Will you give me a chance?' Rain Man snapped. Jimmy glared at him again. They would never be friends. 'OK. So all of the lights are powered from a central generator. If I find a way to disable it then it's going to be pitch black out there. You'll have at least five minutes before they get the backup working.'

Jimmy blinked at him. 'You would do that?'

Rain Man nodded. 'If it makes us even, sure. Anyway, chances are they'll get the lights back on and you'll be shot before you make the woods, but if you think you can do it, why not?'

'And what if you get caught?' Ronni asked.

'I'll act all delirious and they'll think I did it by accident. Or something. It doesn't matter, I owe him.'

Jimmy shook his head slowly. 'Maybe you'll just switch the generator off for a minute, long enough for us to get out there, and then you'll switch it back on again and we'll be sitting ducks. Maybe that's your plan. How do we know we can trust you?'

'You don't,' said Rain Man.

26

Tunnels

They were being followed, they knew that. Footfalls echoed along the tunnels; they caught flashes of light in the darkness. First Officer Jeffers repeatedly whispered for them to be quiet, but it was difficult, with huge brown rats nipping at their ankles every few metres. They too had developed a taste for human flesh since the plague, but with it running out above ground the Rat Gods had seen fit to deliver a nice fresh dinner below. Or something like that. They were relentless.

'I hate this, I hate this, I hate this...' Claire repeated over and over in a frozen whisper. She'd always hated the dark. Now she hated the dark and rats. The dark and rats and cannibals. And the fact that their radios no longer worked so far underground. She tried to focus on the one good thing she was holding on to — Jimmy was alive! Babe lives! What else could it mean? But where was he? Was he trying to get back to the ship? What if he'd been alive when he sent it, but was dead now?

C'mon, Jimmy you can make it.

Even if we don't.

She'd thought Jeffers' idea to use the underground tracks was a good one. But the reality was something else. Cannibals behind. Rats all around. Flashlights beginning to weaken. All they needed now was for the cannibals to appear in front of them as well and they'd be trapped. And eaten. She wanted to run, sprint, make it back to daylight, but they had miles to go and they had to keep the speed down because the other passengers couldn't keep up.

The slowest of them all was the Rev. Calvin Cleaver.

The minister started to cough and splutter almost as soon as they entered the tunnel that would take them on the first leg of their journey underground to Penn Station. Every few minutes he would bend double and dry retch, forcing Jeffers and the crewmen to call a halt until he had recovered sufficiently to continue.

Cleaver was apologetic and blamed his illness on an allergy to rats. 'You go on — leave me . . . I know I'm slowing you down . . . I'm sorry . . .' and he looked fearfully back down the track.

'I'm not leaving anyone behind,' said Jeffers.

It was a good and noble thing to say, but it didn't sit well with Rodriguez. 'You left my wife behind!'

'Mr Rodriguez, your wife was taken,' said Jeffers, his voice calm but firm. 'To have spent any longer looking for her would have endangered our entire mission. We are all together here now, and I intend to keep it that way. Now keep your voice down.'

Rodriguez seethed, but said nothing further.

Cleaver pushed himself erect. 'I think I can go a bit further now,' he rasped.

As they moved on Claire whispered to Ty, 'Maybe if we left Cleaver behind the cannibals might forget about us and have him for lunch.'

'There's not much meat on him,' observed Ty. 'Barely enough for a sandwich.'

'Don't be ridiculous,' said Claire. 'Where are they going to get bread for a sandwich?'

They giggled. But then there was a cry, a flash of light, and the shadows of perhaps fifty pursuers all jumbled together, were briefly illuminated on the tunnel wall perhaps only a quarter of a mile behind them.

Already the giggling seemed like a distant memory.

'Come on!' Jeffers urged.

Two of the crewmen grabbed Cleaver and bundled him along. Claire found herself jogging along beside Jonas Jones. He was a large man and not terribly fit, but he was still quicker than most of the passengers.

'This isn't going to work,' Claire moaned. 'They're too fast, we're too slow!'

Jonas smiled grimly. 'I'm sure the boss has a plan.'

'It better be a good one.'

About a hundred metres further on Jeffers stopped abruptly and shone his torch, which was scarcely larger than a pencil, to the left. Then he quickly consulted the map of the network of tracks he'd kept folded in his left hand. As Claire and the rest of them approached she registered the slightest breath of cool air on her face.

'Mr Benson!' Jeffers barked urgently.

Benson, hurried up. 'Sir?' he asked, a little warily.

'Benson, you've been a thorn in my side ever since you joined the Titanic.'

'Sir.'

'You're always on punishment duty.'

'Sir.'

'Well, if you do this properly, you'll never be on punishment duty again.'

'Sir? What if I do it wrong?'

'Then you'll be dead, Mr Benson, and it won't matter. We all will. Now listen carefully — to our left here is a service tunnel. The entrance is marked on the map, but not how long it is or where it goes. However, there's fresh air coming from somewhere. I want you to run down there and make plenty of noise; take your flashlight and make sure they see you.'

'I'm a decoy, sir.'

'That's it. We will continue on along the tunnel in the dark, hopefully we'll confuse them for long enough to get a proper head start. You understand what you're doing?'