Lair (16 page)

Fender and Mather wheeled round at the sudden outburst of cries and saw the injured man kicking out at the Black rat which ran among them, confused and frightened.

The roof!" Mather shouted as another black shape dropped through the gaping hole. "Quickly! Shoot them!" He shot the second rat as it fell, its body jerking in mid-air.

Fender and another soldier began spraying the canvas ceiling with bullets, tearing it to shreds, but instantly killing the rats that were clawing their way through. The bodies plummeted into the truck and the men drew themselves away, not sure if the creatures were dead.

The interior was suddenly bright as daylight broke through the tattered roof and Fender saw one of the injured men struggling in the far corner with what presumably had been the first mutant to gain access. The man's visor was up and Fender saw it was Whittaker.

The rat catcher scooped up a bloodied bayonet which lay at the feet of a soldier now using his automatic rifle, and stumbled over the recumbent figures and dead vermin towards Whittaker, knowing it would be too dangerous to use the rifle in the confined space.

There was a nasty gash in the tutor's cheek where the giant rat had slashed him either with teeth or claws. He was desperately trying to hold the rat's gnashing teeth away from his face, his hands around the creature's neck. The rat's eyes bulged as Whittaker squeezed and its hind legs raked the tutor's body in a demented motion.

Fender fell to his knees before the struggling tutor, locked an arm beneath the rat's lower jaw and began pulling it away from Whittaker's exposed face. He raised the bayonet and carefully, deliberately, slid the tip to a point beneath the rat's ribcage. Then he struck deep, twisting the blade and drawing it down.

Dark blood poured from the creature's abdomen, flooding over the tutor, soaking him. The rat twitched spasmodically, trying to turn its head and strike at the man who had inflicted the mortal injury. But it was no use; Fender held it tight until the twitching had stopped and life had gone.

"Oh my God, oh my God," was all Whittaker could say.

Fender looked up as a shadow was cast over him. Captain Mather banged three times on the back of the driver's cabin and the vehicle suddenly lurched to a halt. It then began to move forward, gathering speed as it went.

Mather turned towards Fender. That was the signal to get us out of here," he explained. There's nothing we can do for the others without all of us being killed. It's regrettable, but that's how it is."

Fender felt the shock again. Leaving men to die in that way.

"As far as I could ascertain," the officer said apologetically, 'there were only two men still alive, and they looked pretty much done in.

There was blood on them. These useless bloody suits..." he left the sentence unfinished. "I'm sure the others were dead."

He rose and made his way to the rear of the truck where the soldiers, relieved to retreat, were firing back at the creatures in the forest glade. Fender joined them and saw the vermin were making no attempt to pursue but, for the briefest of seconds, he found himself staring directly into the eyes of a mutant which stood apart from the others, a curious white streak running the length of its head. He was thrown to one side as the vehicle jolted into a dip and when he looked again, the rat was gone. He closed his eyes and breathed a silent prayer.

Soon the soldiers stopped firing, for their targets were out of sight.

None felt like cheering as the truck jolted its way back to the road, not even when other army vehicles came racing towards them. They were too exhausted. And they felt too defeated.

FIFTEEN

He found Stephen Howard in the lecture hall, a large map of Epping Forest before him, with Mike Lehmann and Antony Thoraton seated on either side. There were others present at the long table, but Fender strode briskly towards the research director without looking at their faces. The Centre itself was alive with activity which increased considerably on the arrival of the recently besieged men. The injured had been able to walk, albeit painfully, to the classroom set up as a makeshift medical room, although one or two had to be half-supported.

All their companions wanted to do was to calm their jangled nerves with a quiet smoke.

Howard looked up as Fender approached the table.

"Luke. The radio message said you were under attack..."

We were." Fender began to remove the heavy gloves, his plastic-visored helmet already discarded and lying somewhere in the reception area.

There were rats on the outside, in the trees."

"But we thought they were all in the sewers," said Lehmann.

They've either got an exit we haven't discovered yet, or ... they were outside all the time."

"Our patrols would have spotted them."

Fender turned to regard Major Cormack who was seated at the table, his back to the rat catcher "I don't think so.

They've remained hidden for a long time now. Besides, who would think of looking up into the trees?" He turned his attention back to the research director. We've got to use the gas immediately, while we've got the majority trapped."

"But we don't know that all the exits have been blocked yet," said Thornton.

"We have to take that chance; we can't waste any more time. If they suddenly make up their minds that they want out, nothing will stop them."

"I agree with Luke," said Lehmann. "It appears to be too dangerous to send out small groups to seal the holes anyway."

"How many of these groups are out at the moment?" asked Thornton.

"Seven," Howard answered promptly. "Roughly in these areas." His fingers stabbed seven times at the map before him.

"Call them in," said Thornton, firmly. "No point in risking further lives. We'll do as Mr. Fender requests: use the gas immediately."

"But if they should break free? If they can't be contained ... ?"

Fender recognized the voice and turned towards Edward Whitney-Evans.

The cyanide gas will work within seconds and the pumps are powerful enough to penetrate deeply. They shouldn't have a chance to escape."

Major Cormack tapped the map thoughtfully. I think we have enough men to cover any area above the sewers we think particularly vulnerable. We could cover the whole blessed network if necessary, although that would mean thinning our perimeter considerably. Flame-throwers and machine-gun fire should take care of any beggars breaking loose, provided we keep a sharp lookout."

Stephen Howard leaned forward. You realize we can't provide your men with protective suits. There just aren't enough."

Fender smiled grimly. "I'm afraid the suits don't give enough protection. We left six or seven men back there in the forest who would testify to that if they were still alive."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, which was eventually broken by Thornton. "How many rats attacked you? Have you any idea?"

Fender shook his head. "It seemed like thousands they were everywhere but in reality I don't think there were more than a couple of hundred."

"Good God, that many? We imagined they were a small isolated group."

"Hopefully, there's even less now. We ran into your reinforcements on the way up. They should have destroyed quite a few."

"I'm afraid not." Captain Mather had appeared at the rat catcher side.

We've just had word by radio. When the troops got to the area, there were no rats in evidence. Plenty of dead ones those we killed but no living rats. Apart from what was left of our men, and the vermin corpses, the area was deserted."

Fender made his way towards the improvised medical room at the end of the corridor the same room where Jan Wimbush had been attacked only two nights before. He glanced into a classroom to his right as he passed, surprised at its dramatic transformation. It now had the total appearance of a military operations room, banks of radio equipment stretched along one wall, blocking out half the light from the picture windows, an enlarged, mounted map displaying numerous coloured pointers spread out on the joined tables in the centre of the room, and machinery some looking like television monitoring sets, others like radar scanners that Fender could not hope to recognize. A constant hubbub came from the room and he wondered how anyone could think, let alone direct operations from there. Mingling with the brown uniforms of the military were the dark blue uniforms of the police. A joint operation. He hoped they wouldn't get in each other's way.

He passed on and entered the last classroom where the injured soldiers were being treated. It wasn't meant to cope with any serious crisis, for there were enough proper hospitals in the surrounding suburban areas; it was only a place to attend to minor injuries, cuts and bruises. The Warden's wife, Tessa Milton, was busy organizing tea and coffee for the soldiers who were good-humouredly asking for whisky and gin, while the medical officers were dabbing at their wounds with treated pads. He saw Vie Whittaker near a window, Jenny clearing the blood from the gash in his face, and he headed towards them.

Tessa Milton caught him lightly by the arm as he passed. "Oh, Mr.

Fender. Is there any news of the other groups?"

They're being called back in," the rat catcher told her, realizing she was concerned about her husband who was with one of the search-parties.

They haven't run into any trouble yet they'd have radioed in if they had. We were just unlucky, that's all."

She smiled up at him, the anxiety still in her eyes. "I'm sure you're right. Did you get hurt?"

"A few flesh pinches, bruises. No cuts." He was suddenly aware of just how painful those 'pinches' were.

"Jolly good," she said brightly. Would you like some tea? Or coffee?"

"No thanks. I've got to get back out there. We're going to gas the sewers."

Tessa frowned and was about to ask another question, but Fender excused himself and walked over to Jenny and Whittaker.

Jenny's smile was radiant when she saw him. "Are you okay, Luke? I've been so worried about you ... all."

"I'm fine," he assured her. He looked down at Whittaker and studied the deep wound on his face. You'll have a handsome scar there," he told him.

"It's the rest of my body that really hurts," said Whittaker. "I feel as though every inch of skin has been bitten."

We had a lucky escape. If it hadn't been for Captain Mather keeping a cool head, we'd have been finished."

Whittaker looked down and studied his hand which was red and raw with teeth marks. "I want to thank you for helping me back there, Pend ...

Luke. I don't think I could have held that bastard away from my face much longer."

Fender said nothing.

"You're going to need stitches, Vie," said Jenny, 'so I'll let the experts take care of that. Let's have your shirt off and I'll treat the bruises."

As the senior tutor peeled off his shirt Jenny turned to Fender, concern in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're all right, Luke? Let me have a look at you."

Fender grinned. "Jenny, I've got bruises in places you wouldn't believe; but I haven't got time to let you examine them."

You're not going out there? There's nothing more you ..."

We're going to gas the sewers a little earlier than planned."

"But they don't need you for that."

"I'm going to be there." Any warmth had left his face and she knew it was pointless to argue.

What if they get out?" Whittaker said and both Jenny and Fender winced as they saw the red patches and teeth indents all over his torso. Large areas of skin were already turning a yellowish purple. By tomorrow, he would hardly be able to move.

The troops are moving in," said Fender. "It's something we should have done in the first place. Instead of sealing any exits with cement, they'll keep them blocked with fire and bullets."

"And the rats that are already outside those that attacked us?"

"Disappeared. When the other soldiers got there, the rats had all gone. Hopefully, they found their way back into the sewers."

"And if there are others running free?"

We'll deal with them later. Our first concern is to eliminate the main force and they're in the sewers. The rest should be just a tidying-up exercise."

"I hope you're right."

Fender pulled the sleeve of his protective suit up, tugging at the elasticated wristband to examine his watch. The soldiers should be in position within the hour. In the meantime, I'll do a quick tour of the main pumping sites to make sure they're ready. I'll see you both later." He turned and headed for the door.

"Luke?" Jenny's voice made him pause, and he was surprised at her hurt tone. "I'll come with you to your car," she said, catching up with him.

They walked out into the busy corridor leaving the senior tutor staring after them.

"I won't be using my car, Jenny," Fender said, "I'll be under armed escort. There's no way I'm going back into the forest on my own."

Then I'll walk you to your escort," she replied. "Luke, do you really have to go? Haven't you done enough for one day?"

He stopped and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking intently into her face. "Jenny, I won't stop until those bastards have been wiped from the face of the earth."

The venom in his words frightened her and she dropped her eyes from his. His grip slackened and his hands fell away. Jenny kept up with him as he strode towards the reception area.

Once there he stooped to retrieve his fallen helmet, then pulled the tutor to one side, away from the figures that bustled to and fro. He smiled down at her, the old warmth returning.

"Stop worrying. Everything will be under control after we've used the cyanide, you'll see." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

Jenny responded by clasping a hand around his waist, but drew it back hastily when he winced.

"Luke, you really are hurt." She looked anxiously down at his side.

He drew in a deep breath, smiling. That doesn't help."

"Please, let the medical officer look at you."

Fender shook his head. "It's nothing serious. Just bruises. Hey, you didn't tell me how Jan Wimbush and Will are doing."

"Jan is still under sedation. Oh, Luke, her injuries are terrible. Her face ... The wound at the back of her neck is the one the doctors are really worried about. Fortunately, the spine was undamaged, but the wound beside it is so deep. It was touch-and-go for the first twenty-four hours. They think she'll pull through, though."

The coldness had crept back into Fender's features. "And Will?" he asked.

"He should be out tomorrow. He's got a nasty wound in his leg where the rat bit him, but no muscles or tendons were torn. They're only keeping him in to make sure there isn't any infection. Or disease.

He's terribly upset about poor Jan..."

"Ready, Mr. Fender?" Captain Mather stood two yards from them, Mike Lehmann at his side.

You're going back for more, Captain?" said Fender, surprised.

Why not?" came the reply. Then, with a grin, They're only rats."

Mike Lehmann rolled his eyes heavenwards, but seemed in good humour now that the gassing was underway.

"Okay, Luke. Check the north first, then the southern outlets. There's no way the vermin can get into the surrounding sewer networks every connection is sealed tight. So we won't be getting any complaints from the local authorities saying we've driven monsters on to their patch.

We've got 'em boxed in, Luke, no way out."

"Okay. I'll report back to you from each base. I'll stay with the last one until they've completed pumping."

"Right. Good luck."

Fender looked down at Jenny. "I'll see you later," he said.

"Be sure you do."

Then he was gone, tramping down the path in his awkward suit, Captain Mather striding briskly by his side. They headed for a scout car, two lounging soldiers snapping to attention as they approached.

"Why did he have to go this time?" Jenny said aloud. "He's done his job."

"His job?" Lehmann had joined her at the reception area's long window.

"It's more than just a job to Luke, miss, er ... Jenny, isn't it?"

She nodded, turning towards RatkiU's head biologist. "What do you mean, more than just a job?" she asked curiously.

"With Luke, it's more of a vendetta. He despises the rats."

"But why?"

You didn't know? I thought..." Lehmann left the sentence unfinished, and turned his gaze back to the window, his face expressionless.

"Please tell me," Jenny persisted.

Lehmann let out a deep breath. "Luke's parents and younger brother were killed by Black rats in the London Outbreak, four years ago. He was living in the North at the time because of his work."

Jenny closed her eyes. She had known, sensed instinctively, that there was an underlying seriousness behind Luke's flippant remarks regarding his job.

"It was months after the incident that Luke contacted Ratkill. I suppose it took that long to get himself together. Stephen Howard was an old friend of his. He knew the full story and discussed it with me before he decided to take him on. I must say, I was against the idea, even though we needed as many men as we could get at that time: I didn't want any of my staff taking unnecessary risks, you see. Anyway, Howard overruled me, said Luke was a professional, whatever his motives. When I got to know Luke, I had to agree."

Jenny shook her head. "I didn't realize."

"I'm sorry. I assumed he'd told you. From what I've seen over the last couple of days, you two seem, er ... close? It's not something Luke talks about much, although I think it would be better for him if he did. It might get it out of his system. Maybe he'll tell you in his own time. I wouldn't mention that I..."

Jenny shook her head again. "I won't. At least now I know why he does this godawful job. I'm sorry, I didn't mean ..."