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.'
