back.
The tidal wave that followed, tightly packed into the narrow corridor, picked up all four of the burnt survivors and hurtled them along in a boiling stream, catching Thomas as it went, scraping their bodies along the walls, smashing into the machinery that finally blocked the tidal wave's path.
His neck was broken and other bones had snapped, yet Bryce could hear the voice again, homing in from a distance, soon drawing near.
Are you ready now? it asked, just a little sulkily.
He could feel himself spinning, another bone crunching somewhere in his arm as it hit something solid, and although he turned and twisted, he was not giddy, nor confused.
Have you had enough?
Oh yes.
Then breathe in the water.
I have. I'm filled with it.
A sigh. Well, not much longer.
I can still sense.
Yes, but you can't feel.
No, everything's numb.
Pleasant?
Very.
/ told you. Any fear?
A little.
It'll pass. Very soon.
Where am I going?
You'll see.
Is it nice?
No answer.
Is it nice?
Ifs different. Nice doesn't matter.
I trust you.
No answer, but this time an answer wasn't necessary.
Bryce followed the voice that no longer spoke, drifting lazily after the sound-shadow into a strange, deep void, a total absence that was all, to find that it was true: Nice did not matter. Nice didn't matter at all.
Their bodies were churned and broken as they found their own, separate deaths, each one different, individual.
Water gushed through the complex, and the fire followed at a slower, yet no less lethal pace.
Culver searched for Kate, the red glow emanating from the fire in another part of the complex his only source of light. A huge wave had just passed over them, tossing their bodies like corks on an ocean, but now the level had settled to its former roughness once again. Smoke descended as if to join forces with the floodwater in absolute destruction. He glimpsed Dealey braced against the wall, his face red but eyes white. The black engineer, Jackson, was next to him, the others gone, presumably swept back along the corridor their human chain had straddled.
'Kate!' Culver cried, afraid for her. She emerged from the dark water a few feet away from him, sweeping her head to one side to free her face and hair from the wetness. She sucked in air and immediately began to cough as acrid smoke rushed in. He plunged towards her, a hand encircling her waist, and pulled her back against the wall for support. He held her steady until the coughing had subsided, relieved that the smoke had begun to drift upwards, no longer disturbed by other forces. It was a brief respite, for he knew that the shelter would soon fill with the choking fumes, just as it might soon fill completely with floodwater.
There seemed to be hardly any energy left in Kate as she slumped against him. Her forehead nuzzled against his cheek, and she said, 'It's no use, is it, Steve? We haven't a chance.'
He was tempted to drag her over to the catwalk and climb up, to lie there and pray that the flames and smoke would die away, that the floodwater would gradually subside. That the mutant vermin would choose to ignore them.
We've got one last shot,' he told her, 'and we're going to take it.'
The shaft was their only chance.
A small ray of hope came literally from Fairbank, who shone the flashlight at them from the Operations Room doorway.
Tm coming over!' he shouted, his voice barely audible over the confusion of sounds.
Wait a minute!' Culver called back. There's a bad pull there; we'll help you across!'
'Okay! I've got a lamp as well as a waterproof flashlight. I'm going to toss it over.'
He switched on the second light and reached across the corridor as far as he could without getting caught in the treacherous currents. Culver had moved closer on the other side of the opening and caught the lamp deftly as Fairbank gently lobbed it over. He passed it back to Dealey.
'Keep it on us! Jackson, grab my arm and don't let go!'
Once he felt his upper arm gripped, Culver moved away from the relative protection of the wall. The current tugged at his legs immediately and he leaned into it, his other arm stretched towards Fairbank.
The engineer, clutching the rubber-insulated flashlight and something else in his left hand, reached out to Culver with his right. He had to make his own way for at least a foot, then their fingers curled around each other's wrists and Culver pulled as Jackson drew him in.
They caught their breath on the other side and eventually Fairbank gasped, This bloody water's getting higher.'
Culver felt the choppy surface just below his armpits. We haven't got much long—'
A scream from Kate and they turned to see the dark shapes streaming towards her lit clearly by the lamp Dealey held. There were three of them, yellow eyes just above the waterline, perhaps sensing the most vulnerable in the group, the easy prey.
Fairbank's speed was remarkable. He leapt forward, the water barely slowing his movement, torch in his left hand, the other object now transferred to his right, raised high. He brought the blade down hard and swift, decapitating the leading rat, pulling the weapon clear and striking again, catching the second rat across its back, severing the spine.
The rat squealed, the cry eerily infantile, and blood gushed from the wound in a dark fountain. The cutter was more difficult to pull free this time, but the third rat veered away as its companions sank. It found the shadows and hid itself, keening for others who had been scattered by the thundering noise and who now crouched in other places, squealing and afraid of the smoke and approaching flames. They found each other in the dark, regrouping, massing together, for their combined force was their strength.
The four men gathered around the girl, Culver tried to soothe her, the others anxious to be on their way.
'We've no time to lose, Culver,' Dealey said agitatedly, his head close to the pilot's, the lamp beam constantly moving, searching the area around them.
Curious, Culver ignored him. What the hell did you use there?' he said to Fairbank.
The engineer grinned and held his prize aloft, shining the torch onto it. 'Guillotine blade,' he announced.
The guillotine was kept close to the photocopier in the Ops Room. I managed to break off the blade.' He swished it in the air like a straight, thick-backed cutlass.
'Come on, we've no time for this!' Dealey urged.
'Link arms, like before,' Culver ordered. 'Let me have the lamp. You behind me, Dealey, Kate in the middle between you and Jackson. Fairbank, you take the rear. The idea is to all keep together.'
