They moved off, aware that the smoke was becoming more dense, the water-level higher, but unaware that the rats were regrouping above them.
It wasn't long before Culver and the others found themselves inside the ventilation plant, spurred on by the threat all around, the red glow becoming a brighter orange, shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling, fiery highlights bouncing off the water's black surface. There was less smoke inside the plant room itself and the floodwater was calmer. It was quieter in there, too.
'Over there!' Dealey pointed. That's the central air duct.'
Culver's beam lit up the shaft. 'Can we get through? Isn't there machinery inside?' he asked, frowning.
'No, the plant itself is really in a building above us. That's where the filters, cooling and heating units, and humidifiers are. This is just the main shaft for circulating the air; other, smaller ducts run off from it.'
The water level was almost up to their shoulders as they waded and half-swam towards the wide shaft.
'Any ideas on how we get inside?' Culver asked, for the ventilation grille itself was not in sight. It was something they had all pushed to the back of their minds, directing their efforts on one problem at a time, unwilling to think too far ahead lest they become totally discouraged. The fact that the entry point to the ventilation shaft was under water had now
to be faced. They grouped around the shaft, bedraggled and feeling trapped. Culver tried to remember what the grille had looked like, how it was sealed.
'Is the grille screwed into the shaft, or is there a lock?' he asked Dealey.
The reply was despairing. There's a lock to give the maintenance people easy access. I don't have that particular key.'
Culver exchanged the lamp for Fairbank's insulated flashlight and plunged it down, hoping it really was waterproof. The beam glowed beneath the surface, diffused but strong enough to see by. His head and shoulders followed and he found the metal gridwork before him. He searched for the edges, his fingers running along the rim. He soon found the lock and examined it closely, the torch and his head only inches away. He rose to the surface, releasing the last of his breath and gasping in another deep lungful.
We're lucky the opening isn't screwed into the wall - I think I can break it open,' he told the others who were watching anxiously. Holding a hand out towards Fairbank, he said, 'Let me have the blade.'
The engineer handed him the makeshift weapon, realizing what he was about to do.
Noises came from outside, shouts, splashing, a frenzy of movement. They shone the lamp and the flashlight towards the door just as Strachan appeared; Ellison was close behind, and there were other figures jostling one another to get into the ventilation room. Strachan beamed his own torch in their direction and shouted with relief when he saw them.
A scream from outside changed his expression.
The men - there appeared to be no women among them - bundled through the door, some falling, tripping those behind. A flurry of activity outside increased the panic.
Culver understood what was happening and dived beneath the water, taking the guillotine blade with him. He found the grille lock and tried to insert the length of metal into the crack beside it, using the thin blade-edge. The task was too cumbersome with the torch in one hand and the metal in the other. He quickly re-surfaced and thrust the dripping flashlight into the startled Jackson's hand.
Take a deep breath and come down with me!' Culver instructed him. 'Hold the beam on the lock while I prise the grid open.'
He disappeared again and felt the long crack between door and frame with his fingers. The light appeared almost immediately and he guided Jackson's hand towards the lock. Using both his own hands, Culver slid the blade fractionally into the slit just above the lock, then worked it in, using only slight pressure to open the gap wider, pushing the metal blade in further as he did so.
When it was two or three inches inside, he used more pressure, pushing the blade at an angle towards the shaft wall, praying the metal would not snap. The gap widened, just a little. He eased the pressure, then tried again. The lock resisted and the blade quivered in the eerie, watery light. His breath was leaving him, but he knew he hadn't a second to lose; Strachan and the others had been followed and there were no prizes for guessing by what. The ventilation room would soon be overwhelmed by vermin.
A sudden greater use of force, regardless of breaking metal, and the door sprang open, its release quickly cushioned by water - so that it stood ajar just six inches or so.
Culver pulled it wide, snatched the torch from Jackson, and swam through, rising up on the other side gasping for air. And the air was so sweet.
He stood inside the shaft, pointing the beam upwards,
drawing in deep breaths of this new, fresher air. A metal ladder was set in the wall, not with separately mounted rungs as Dealey had supposed. The ladder went straight to the top, a height of some sixty or seventy feet, perhaps more; there were openings on either side, smaller shafts, metal arteries from a major vein.
Another grille obscured the top and he noticed the ladder led to a small trapdoor set in it He dropped back down into the water and slid through the opening, emerging among a ring of expectant faces on the other side.
'It's okay,' he told them. We can make it.' He handed the blade back to Fairbank and pulled Kate closer to the shaft. Take a deep breath and go straight through the opening. You'll find a ladder to your right - start climbing straight away!'
He turned to Jackson, giving him the torch. ‘You go with her and keep the light on the opening inside the shaft.'
Activity near the doorway caught his attention.
The water's surface was a churning pink foam and he realized that several of Strachan's party had been caught there, the rats dragging them down, tearing them to pieces beneath the water. These strange mutants had adapted to sewer life in a way he would not have thought possible, the foul waters, whether sluggish with slime or rushing with rainfall, holding no fears for them, just another part of their underworld environment. At least those dying men were distracting the vermin, unwillingly giving the others a chance to get clear.
'Move!' he yelled at Kate.
She vanished and Jackson quickly followed. The others in the group clustered around Culver.
'Hold it!' He raised a hand as if to ward them off. 'One at
a time or we've all had it!' He tugged at the nearest man to him. ‘You next, make it quick!'
The engineer eagerly complied.
As the next man went through, Culver saw that there were no more than a dozen left in the ventilation plant. There was no way of knowing how many others were still alive but trapped in other parts of the complex, and no time to reflect upon it. There was nothing more that he and the others could do; to attempt to rescue any more would probably prove fatal for them all.
One of the men standing on the fringe of the group suddenly cried out. His eyes showed surprise, but he kept motionless except for his head, which slowly peered down into the black water swilling just below his chin. His face abruptly creased in agony as he screamed, the cry filling the room, rebounding off the walls. He fell backwards, arms beating at the water.
Another man, close to him, shouted and lunged down. He quickly came up, his hands full with a writhing, black-furred creature. The rat's incisors snapped at the air, its frantic scrabbling too powerful for the man to contain. It fell onto his shoulder, wicked, pointed head twisting to gouge his cheek. The spurting blood drove the rodent to a new frenzy.
As the others watched dumbstruck, Dealey was already sinking below the surface, nose and breath held. He found the opening and pushed his clumsy body through.
The bastards are coming from beneath!' Fairbank held the blade high and shone the lamp down into the water. He slashed down and a murky shape below changed direction. He slashed again, keeping up a constant
