‘I can’t,’ Christine said, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. ‘I want to escape. I’m scared. If it wasn’t for you I’d be running like a jackrabbit to the barges. My mission now is about getting to Mandrick too. But you’re not running away.You’re not scared. Maybe you know something I don’t, maybe I’m all wrong about you but I don’t think so. You’re charging headlong into the fight with the battlements falling down around you. I always dreamed I would be like that if it ever came down to it, but I’m not. Not without you.’
‘You want to work together on this?’
‘Yes,’ she said, gritting her teeth.
‘Then go hold one of the barges. I’ll get Mandrick and drag his sorry arse back and we can both have him.’
Stratton ran up the steps, leaving Christine watching him, her glare turning downright acid.
When he disappeared at the top she looked around at the crumbling prison. Sea water was cascading down walls, the dim emergency lights were flickering, the klaxons were fading as the emergency power grew weaker. In stark contrast a jaunty computerised voice announced the time. Remaining there a single minute more was madness.
Stratton scurried along the narrow corridor and as he turned the corner he saw Hank lying on his back, his eyes open, blood trailing from a hole in his head. Stratton moved past him to the watertight door at the end of the tunnel and he peered through the small porthole.
‘We’re too late,’ Christine said, standing over Hank.
Stratton continued looking through the porthole. He considered ignoring her but decided that was clearly a waste of time. ‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘The pod’s still attached.’
‘Can we open it?’
‘If we could the pod would probably jettison and we’d drown a second later.’ He looked at Christine thoughtfully. ‘We need to get to the surface.’
Something behind him caught her attention. Her mouth slowly opened. ‘Is that an escape barge?’
Stratton turned to follow her gaze through the window. The massive, black barge was moving gracefully away, a huge drag cable trailing beneath it. It slowly tipped up at one end, levelled out, tipped a little the other way and then began to rise.
‘There’s still one more left. Let’s go.’ Stratton started to head off, pausing to pick up the crank key beside Hank before continuing along the corridor and down the stairs, Christine hot on his heels.
They ran along the gantry, reaching the entrance to the tunnel they had come along minutes before, and came to an abrupt stop. Sea water was pouring from it like a waterfall and cascading into the chasm below.
‘Can we get through that?’ she asked, addressing the question to herself as much as to him.
‘We have to,’ Stratton said. He leaned across the torrent to plant an arm on the edge of the tunnel. He reached inside and took hold of one of a stack of conduits bolted to the stone. A firm tug proved that it was secure. ‘Go for it,’ he shouted above the din of the rushing water.
Christine didn’t hesitate, jumping past him to grab hold of the conduit. She pulled herself into the tunnel, fighting against the flow. Stratton leapt in close behind her and they headed into near-darkness as the emergency lighting grew even dimmer.
The going was hard. Their feet constantly slipped out from beneath them due to the force of the water. ‘Watch out!’ Christine suddenly shouted as she pulled herself tight against the wall.
Stratton did the same as several tables, carried on the flood, came bumping down the corridor at speed. Both he and the girl managed to avoid being struck.
Christine moved a few metres further on to a large bracket which she wrapped her arms around in order to snatch a breather. Stratton pulled ahead of her. ‘Keep going.’
She grabbed a pipe as far ahead as she could reach and pulled herself along.
They rounded a bend where the light grew in intensity to discover that it was an emergency light illuminating a sign above a door across the tunnel from them: ESCAPE ROOM. Christine pulled herself opposite the door, wondering if they could cross the gap without being swept back the way they had come. Stratton made his way further up the tunnel. Without any hesitation he pressed his feet against the wall while holding on to a pipe and, as if he was starting a backstroke race, pushed off for the other side.
He turned onto his front as he reached the opposite wall and grabbed for a hold, moving with the water until he reached the door. Large metal brackets were fixed to the wall either side of it and he grabbed the first, pulling himself against the door, which was in a small recess. He reached a hand out to Christine. ‘Go for it!’ he shouted.
She did not hesitate and threw herself across the gap to grab his hand. As she secured herself he banged on the steel door. The noise of their efforts seemed to be swallowed up by the sound of the rushing water. Stratton took the crank key that he had hooked inside the waist of his trousers and repeatedly struck it against the door.
He repeated the noisy assault as he searched for a way to open the door but there did not appear to be one. They feared the worst.
‘They’ve gone, haven’t they?’ Christine said, knowing the answer.
Stratton stopped banging. ‘I think you’re right,’ he said, searching in vain further along the walls to either side of the door for a manual-override slot to fit the key into.
‘What about the ferries?’ she asked.
‘They’re further on up there,’ he said, pointing in the direction they had been going. ‘But the doors into the dock won’t operate without the OCR even in an emergency. ’
A body lying face down in the water drifted past. Judging by the uniform it was that of a prisoner. It was a chilling illustration of the fate that lay ahead for them.
Stratton thought about his diving set outside the dock by the facility umbilical. But even if there was a chance of getting to it, which he could not see, there was only one set and he would have to abandon Christine. It didn’t look like an option either way.
‘Do we have any choices left?’ she asked.
‘Only thing I can think of is to find somewhere we can breathe.’
‘You think they’ll send a search team in here within the next six months, if ever?’
‘It’s possible,’ he said, not believing it.
‘OK, so let’s go find somewhere we can stay warm, get three squares a day and breathe for the next six months,’ she said sardonically.‘That wasn’t aimed at you, by the way. This is all my fault. I held you up.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I did and you know it. I’m a pig-headed bitch.’
‘Listen. If you’re going to be my best friend for the rest of my life you’d better stop whingeing.’
Christine looked into Stratton’s eyes, unable to suppress a slight smile. Then something caught her eye as it floated towards her and she plucked it out of the water. It was a ration pack. ‘We have dinner at least.’
‘What is it?’
She held it closer to the light to read the label. ‘Chicken supreme.’
‘That’s very good, you know.’
She appreciated his humour in the face of such adversity.
‘I know where there’s an air-storage chamber,’ Stratton said. ‘Might even be some electricity.’
‘What are we waiting for?’
‘Hold on to me. Let’s stay together.’
‘For the rest of my life,’ she said as she grabbed hold of his arm and he let go of the door bracket.
They shot down the tunnel, fending themselves off the sides. They soon reached the metal gantry, spilling out of the tunnel onto it as the water plummeted to the lower levels. Stratton got to his feet and they hurried to the stairs and down them. They crossed to another flight of steps, scurried down them to a broad tunnel that was waist-deep in water that was not flowing as fast as in the previous one and headed past a sign directing them towards the hospital. Stratton was encouraged by the shallower water that suggested, for the time being at least, that the prison was not necessarily filling from the bottom up.
They reached the narrower access tunnel that led down to level five and the mine to find the water cascading down it more vigorously than before.
‘We’re heading down?’ Christine asked.
