From somewhere deep inside his horror he became aware that Annie was screaming again; and even Joseph now appeared to be moving. 'The rats are more frightened than us,' he heard himself saying tersely, more to calm himself down than anything else. It wasn't much comfort, and the three of them started hurrying back towards the stairs, their feet occasionally knocking against a squeaking rat and the skin on their faces brushing against the cobwebs.
Ben couldn't tell whose feet it was he tripped over, but somewhere along the corridor he fell. He shouted out hoarsely, and tried to ignore the fact that the floor seemed to be undulating with shuffling furry bodies. There was a sudden troubled squeaking, and he pulled his hand quickly up off the ground when he realized it was resting on a strong, thick rat's tail. He shouted out again, his head suddenly swimming with panic as he tried to stumble to his feet. All strength seemed to have left him, however, and as the rats continued to swarm round his body, the walls started closing in on him. Claustrophobic. Surrounded by a sea of whip-like tails and stinking fur.
And then there was a hand on his arm. It was Joseph, pulling him up. 'On your feet, lad,' he said sternly, and that was all the instruction Ben needed. He pushed the panic from his mind and thrust himself up.
'Let's go,' he said with determination.
It was with unspeakable relief that Ben saw the dim light from the trap door illuminate the steps; and with even more relief that he heard no planes overhead. He stepped to one side to let the terrified Annie pass. Once she was on the steps, it was Joseph's turn. 'You go first, lad,' he said breathlessly, and Ben nodded, emerging back into the concrete hut with an explosive breath of air.
Annie's whole body was shuddering, and she was breathing in short, sudden gasps that would have been cries if there had been tears in her eyes. 'I–I don't care what's happening out there,' she stammered. 'There's no way I'm going back down those stairs.'
Ben's teeth were chattering as he nodded his head. He started drawing deep breaths to calm himself down, and for a few seconds the three of them stood by the trap door in silence.
It was Annie who spoke first. 'Er, do you mind if we close that thing? I'm sure I can still hear those horrible rats.'
Ben nodded curtly, stepped round to the side of the opening and slammed the door shut. It echoed round the hut like a gunshot, and again the trio fell silent.
'So,' Ben said finally, more for the sake of putting the thought of the rats from his mind, 'fifty years, eh, Joseph? Can't think why you didn't go back there sooner.'
The old man turned to look at him. His grizzled face was serious, and he ignored Ben's ill-judged attempt at humour — an attempt that he instantly regretted the moment he caught that glance.
'Rattus norvegicus,' he said. 'The brown rat. Coarse hair, average body weight of three hundred and fifty grams. Acute hearing, sensitive to ultrasound. Selectively bred as laboratory rats for medical experimentation, which means that their presence down there is more apt than you could ever imagine.' Joseph's lip curled into a frown. 'You don't understand, lad,' he continued in a low voice. 'It's OK — there's no reason why you should. But what happened down there fifty years ago was far worse than anything you've seen today.' His green eyes fixed themselves on Ben, who found that he was unable to look away, so commanding was that gaze.
Ben heard his own heart beating as the two of them stared intently at each other.
'I'm sorry,' Ben said finally. 'I didn't mean to—'
'Just go,' Joseph interrupted. 'Get out. Get away.' He turned, releasing Ben from his fearsome gaze.
Ben nodded, then looked towards Annie. 'Come on,' he said. 'I think we should go home.'
'That's the most sensible thing you've said all day,' she replied. They turned their back on Joseph and walked towards the door. Ben gave the old man one last glance over his shoulder. He was looking around the hut again, that same inscrutable expression on his face.
Ben's eyes, unused to the brightness of the outside, smarted slightly as he walked into the daylight, so he covered them briefly with his hand. So it was that Annie saw them first — Ben heard her gasp even before he noticed them, and he felt her grasp his arm. But when he removed his hands from over his eyes, he stopped dead in his tracks.
There must have been five or six of them, grim-faced RAF men in combat fatigues and military berets, surrounding the hut. They were all heavily armed with ugly, black service rifles, and each of the guns was pointed directly at Ben and Annie.
'Hit the floor!' one of the soldiers barked. 'Lie on the floor with your hands on your head! Get down! Get down or we shoot!'
Chapter Ten
Ben hit the dirt. Next to him, he sensed Annie doing the same.
'Get your hands on your head!' he heard the soldier shout, and he did as he was told. He felt his rucksack being grabbed from him, then his wrists being roughly seized and pulled down behind his back, where one of their captors clunked a pair of metal handcuffs on him.
'Who else was in there with you?' a voice barked.
'Only one person,' Ben replied through gritted teeth. The gravel-strewn ground scratched against his cheek as he spoke. 'He's an old man. His name's Joseph and he's pretty frail. Go easy on him.' He watched as three sets of heavy-booted feet rushed past his field of vision. 'He's not armed,' Ben shouted. 'He's harmless—'
But the soldiers were already shouting, 'Get to the floor! Get to the floor!'
From inside the hut, Ben heard Joseph's distinctive voice. 'I'm an old man,' he said calmly. 'You are three heavily armed soldiers. It's unlikely I'm going to overcome you with my bare hands, don't you think?'
Instantly there was a sickening thump, like the butt of a rifle against skin and bone, and then the unmistakable sound of Joseph groaning and falling to the floor. 'Leave him alone!' Ben shouted, before being unceremoniously pulled to his feet, as was Annie. They watched as the old man, a large welt already visible on the side of his face, was dragged out of the hut. One of the soldiers struck him harshly in the pit of his stomach. He fell to his knees before his arms were grabbed behind his back and he too was restrained with cuffs.
Nearby there was a military vehicle — a large, canvas-covered four by four. Wordlessly they were pushed towards the truck and bundled into the back, while three soldiers, their weapons still firmly in their fists, joined them to keep guard. The back of the truck was pulled closed, and it started moving slowly along the rough dirt track.
The atmosphere was tense. The bruise on Joseph's face seemed to be getting darker by the minute; Annie kept looking at it, and then furiously back at the soldiers. Ben could tell that she was fuming that an RAF soldier should have inflicted such a wound on an unarmed old man. Finally one of the soldiers — a burly man with a nose that looked like it had been broken at some stage in the past — spoke. 'Pretty stupid place for a couple of kids to be hanging out,' he told them. He directed his attention towards Joseph. 'But I might have expected something a bit more sensible from an old boy like you.'
Joseph's face remained stony. 'Stupidity isn't just for young people,' he said quietly, touching his fingers to his bruised face as if to illustrate his point.
The soldier sneered.
'Where are you taking us?' Annie demanded.
'Same place we take everyone caught interfering in military operations,' he replied dismissively. 'To a holding cell, while we evaluate whether or not you're a threat to national security.'
'National security!' Annie blustered. 'That's ridiculous.'