The government has to be practical. And so do we.' Dealey's voice became tight, as though he were fighting to keep control. 'I'm giving you a chance to live through this; it's up to you whether or not you take it.'
‘You can't make it without me.'
'Possibly not. It's your choice.'
For a few long, sightless moments, Dealey thought that the other man had walked away from him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when he heard him speak.
'I doubt there's going to be much left to survive for after this, but okay, we'll find the shelter. I'd still like to know how you know about this place, though. I take it you work for the government.'
'Yes, I do, but that's not important right now. We must get into the tunnels.'
There are some doors on the other side of the hall. I can just about make it out in the darkness; one could be the stationmaster's office, so we're bound to find a torch or a lamp of some kind.'
There's no light down here?'
'Nothing. Just daylight - what there is of it.'
The emergency lighting may still be working in the tunnels, but a torch might come in useful.'
'Right.'
Dealey felt a hand on his arm and allowed himself to be
led across the hall. The cries of the injured had died down, but a low coalescent moaning had taken its place. Something clutched at his trouser leg and a voice begged for help. He felt his guide hesitate and Dealey quickly pulled the other man to him. 'You haven't told me your name yet,' he said to distract him, walking on, keeping the other man going.
'Culver/ came the reply.
'Let's concentrate on one thing at a time, Mr Culver: first, let's find a torch; second, let's get to the tunnels; third, let's get into the shelter. Nothing else must sidetrack us, not if we want to live.'
Culver knew the blind man was right, yet it was difficult to disregard his own misgivings; would it really be worthwhile to survive? Just what was left up there? Had most of the northern hemisphere been wiped out, or had the strikes concentrated only on major cities and strategic military bases? There was no way of knowing for the moment so he closed the questions from his mind, just as he kept further, more emotional, thoughts at bay. Only the mind-numbing shock would see him through, so long as it did not affect his actions; for now, nothing else but finding a torch mattered.
The ground trembled briefly and screaming broke out once more.
The two men stopped in their tracks. 'Another bomb?' Culver asked.
Dealey shook his head. 'I doubt it. An explosion not too far away, I think. It could be just a fractured gas main.'
They reached the first door and Culver twisted the handle. Locked. 'Shit!' He took a pace back and kicked out. Once more, and it gave. Another, and it was open.
Culver went in, Dealey following close behind, a hand on his guide's shoulder. A voice came from the darkness. 'What
d'you want? This is London Transport property, you're not allowed in here.'
Culver was not surprised at the irrationality. Take it easy, we only want a torch,' he reassured the man whom he could just see crouching behind a chair in one corner of the tiny room.
'I can't let you ...' his voice broke. What's happened out there? Is it all over?'
'It's done,' Culver said, 'but it's not over. Is there a torch in here?'
There's a flashlight on the shelf, to your right, by the door.'
Culver saw it. Reached for it.
The crouching man raised an arm to protect his eyes when Culver flicked the switch and shone the beam in his direction.
'My advice to you is to get into the tunnels,' Dealey said. ‘You'll be safer there.'
Tm all right where I am. There's no need for me to leave here.'
Very well, it's up to you. Are you the stationmaster?'
'Mr Franklin is dead. He tried to control the crowds. They were panicking. He tried to hold them back, tried to make them form queues. Instead, they trampled him. None of us could help. Just too many!'
'Calm yourself. The crowds have gone, most are below in the tunnels. And the nuclear attack is over.'
The attack? Then it really happened, they really did it? They dropped the Bomb?'
'Several, I should think.'
Culver decided not to mention the five separate cloud stems he had seen; he would tell Dealey later, when they were alone.
Then we're all finished.'
'No, not if everyone stays under cover for now. The worst damage from radiation should be over within two to four weeks, and by then the authorities should have everything under control.'
Culver almost laughed aloud, but the effort would have been too much. 'Let's get out of here,' he suggested instead.
'I can only repeat: you'll be safer in the tunnels,' Dealey told the crouching man, who gave no reply.
Culver turned the beam away, switching it off as h? did so. The flashlight would be useful: its casing was made of heavy-duty rubber and the lamp reflector was wider than normal. We're wasting time,' he said quietly.
If Dealey was surprised at his guide's sudden resoluteness he did not show it. 'Of course, you're right.
Let's hurry.'
They made their way through the ticket barrier towards the escalators. There were three and none was working. Culver noticed that the ticket hall had filled with more people, most of whom appeared to be totally disorientated, their movements uncertain, their eyes blankly staring. He told Dealey of what he saw.
'Is there nothing we can do for them?' he whispered harshly.
'I'm afraid not. I only hope we can help ourselves.'
Concentrate. The stairs. Have to ease our way over to them. Ignore the old woman sitting on the floor rocking her blood-covered head backwards and forwards. Forget about the kid clinging to his mother, yelling for her to take out the horrible pieces of glass from his hands. Don't look at the man leaning against the wall vomiting black blood. Help one and you had to help another. Help another and you had to help everybody. Help everybody and you were finished. Just
help yourself. And this man Alex Dealey, who seemed to know so much.
They were soon at the top of the centre escalator. Bodies were sprawled all the way down, sitting, lying, some just slumped against the handrails. He could just make out dim emergency lights below.
We'll have to be careful going down,' he said. The stairs are packed with people and we'll have to work our way through them.' He released the blind man's arm and clamped Dealey's hand around his own. 'Hold tight and stick close.' He pushed his way through to the stairs.
Men and women looked at them, but no one objected. Some even tried to move aside when they realized Dealey was blind. It was slow progress and Culver was careful not to trip, allowing his companion to lean on him, to use his strength for support; one slip and they would never stop rolling.
They were halfway down when people below came pouring from the platform entrances.
They clawed at those on the escalators, trying to get on to the stairways, calling out, screaming something that Culver and Dealey could make no sense of. The renewed panic was infectious: the confused mass on the stairs rose as one and began to beat their way back up, punching out at those who blocked their path, pushing their way over those who lay injured.
'What now?' Dealey asked in frustration as they were shoved aside by the group just below them.
What's happening down there, Culver?'
