Hidden in the shadows, Johan pulled a wipe from his pocket and cleaned his hand.
Kev spoke up. “Which way did we go last time?”
“Left,” said Simon. “It was definitely left.”
Kev removed the gun from his jacket and held it at his side.
After throwing the used wipe on the floor, Johan walked through the group.
“Richie, I need some light over here.”
The flashlight beam meandered across the floor, and Richie joined him. Side by side, they walked about halfway down the tunnel, the flashlight fixed on the darkness beyond.
Apart from the steady drip-drip of unseen water and the splashes of their boots, the tunnel remained quiet. Johan noticed the lack of rats. The vermin had swarmed here in abundance only the night before. Why had they gone? Could they have sensed what was coming and made a sharp exit?
They reached the junction. Both men leaned through and, with flashlight and pistol, swept the next tunnel. Happy that nothing waited for them on the other side, they climbed through and waited for the others.
“This looks just like the last one,” said Kev. “Are you sure we came this way? I remember the walls being different last night.”
“We can’t be lost so soon,” said Johan. “And we did come this way.”
A knot of tension tightened in his throat. He too remembered the walls being more rotten and wetter.
This is definitely the right way, he thought. Maybe we’re all a bit nervous. It’s fucking with our minds.
Simon had already headed down the tunnel.
“Wait,” Johan said and ran to catch up. He grabbed Simon by the elbow and pulled him to a stop. “If we all go off like that, we will get lost!”
Simon glared at him. “So, you don’t hear that?”
Johan frowned. “What?”
“Listen.”
The dripping continued, and the boys fidgeted behind them.
“Ssssh!” Johan hissed and waved his hand holding the gun. They instantly fell quiet.
Up ahead, enveloped in the darkness, something splashed around. At first, Johan thought it had a natural source, a leaking pipe or trails of water converging. But no, the splashing sounded different, more random… playful even.
“Richie,” Johan whispered. “Up here. Now.”
Richie jogged up and held up the flashlight.
The patch of light slowly slid up the floor of the tunnel, reflected off the surface of the water, and created a dancing pattern on the ceiling.
Still the splashing continued.
Richie slowly raised the flashlight higher. The light moved up and away from the water. The beam shone directly into the total darkness beyond.
“Can you see anything?” asked Richie, the flashlight gripped tight in his trembling hand.
“No. Get closer.”
The flashlight lowered. “What?” said Richie.
Johan turned his head. “You need to get closer. We can’t see anything.”
Richie’s eyes widened.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me! Are you nuts?”
“No. Go on!”
“There could be one of those things down there!”
Johan cracked a smile. “We sure hope so, right, Simon?”
Simon, attention on the splashing noise, stayed silent.
“There’s no way I’m going down there alone,” said Richie, shaking his head.
Johan pointed the gun down the tunnel. “Just keep to the side. If anything does come out? I’ll blow its head off.” He shoved Richie. “Now get moving.”
Richie staggered the first few steps and stopped. He looked back, and Johan motioned forwards with the gun. Back pressed against the mouldy wall, Richie shuffled along, frequently glancing back.
Johan held the gun with both hands and spread his feet shoulder width apart. He pointed the gun down the tunnel, imagining a figure waiting, hidden in the shadows. His finger squeezed the trigger slightly, but then relaxed.
Come on out, he thought. I can hear you…
Richie had only moved a little way down the tunnel. His flashlight beam cut through the darkness, revealing more dirt-streaked walls. Still, the end of the tunnel remained cloaked in shadows.
Splash, splash, splash.
“Get a move on, Richie,” said Johan.
Kev and Spence had joined them and watched in silence. Kev had his own gun at the ready, and Johan was glad to see he had it trained down the tunnel.
“Just a few more steps,” ordered Johan.
The flashlight beam quivered as it crept along the walls and floor. Richie’s hand jerked around, failing to hold it steady.
The splashing stopped.
Richie immediately came to a halt and stared back. “I… I think it’s gone.”
Johan cocked his head and listened.
“Damn it,” he said and lowered the gun. “There’s nothing there.”
Richie released a long sigh and slumped back against the wall. “Thank Christ.”
A growl rumbled down the tunnel.
Johan’s back quivered like a feather of ice had tickled the skin. He snapped the gun back up.
“Shit!” cried Richie and fled back to the relative safety of the group.
“Get behind me,” said Johan. “All of you.”
The splashing resumed, closer.
“Richie, the flashlight! Get the light up!”
Richie fumbled and nearly dropped the flashlight. Wailing, he held it up, the beam sweeping down the tunnel.
From out of the shadows, a small dog stopped in the circle of light. It barked once and, with a playful hop, scampered back into the darkness.
28.
The night transformed the warehouse into a place of shadow and twisting dark corridors, like a forgotten funhouse of the dead. A breeze whistled through the enormous room unchallenged. It wheezed through the rafters. They groaned. The rows of roosting birds seemed unperturbed.
Nat sat low against one of the walls, sure some monstrosity or murdering rapist would find their way through the vast building and grab her. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter. The hatch, which opened into the deep shaft to the sewers, stood in front of her.
A hand grabbed her shoulder.
Her heart leapt, and she rolled to the side, her arms and legs frantically beating the floor. Rolling onto her back, she prepared to fight off her attacker.
“Nat?”
She blinked. “Max?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” she cried, her heart beat making her gasp. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me come in.” Max sat down against the wall.
“Well, I didn’t,” said Nat and slowly crawled back towards him. “It’s too creepy in here. I can’t believe you left me alone.”
“I can’t believe you stayed,” Max replied. He slid his arm around the back her neck and pulled her in for a playful squeeze. “I thought you’d be long gone.”
“I did think about it. But I can’t. You know?”
Max nodded.
Nat leaned in against him and dipped her head. Her face rested on his chest. The sweet smell of her shower gel still hung strong. His skin felt warm through the t-shirt. “Did you find them?” she asked.
He stayed silent for a moment.
“Yes,” he said finally. “They were at one of the entrances. It didn’t take long to track them down.”
“How many?”
“Five.”
“Hmm. Sounds like they got back up. One more bastard.”
“It’s not the extra guy that worries me,” said Max. He idly played with one of her dreadlocks. “They know what they are up against now, or at least, can take a good guess.”
“And?”
“What if they’re armed?”
Nat’s stomach dropped on hearing the words. She almost gagged. “What?”
“They acted suspicious when I walked by. More than they should’ve. One o
f them has a bag. Who knows what’s in it?”
“And you think it could be guns?”
Max nodded. “Or worse.”
Nat pushed up away from him and sat up straight. The splashing from the hatch seemed to have grown louder. She guessed that the water level had risen again.
“Then we have to go down there,” she said. “We have to go down there and warn them.”
“I told Alcazar. We know where these guys are, but they can’t find us, not unless we want them to. As long as things stay that way, my brothers have the upper hand. We have abilities that will match any gun. He was having a long talk with Whistler. I think they have something planned.”
Nat frowned. “You don’t sound too worried. It’s like you want this.”
“I do want this. After all they’ve done…” His eyes narrowed. “It’s Jenkins I’m worried about. I don’t think killing a small dog is beneath them.”
With her hand on his knee, Nat gave him a squeeze. “He’s small and it’s dark down there. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Max placed his cold hand over hers.
“Max?”
“I’m sorry,” he said and quickly removed it. “I’m just… worried for Jenkins.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Nat. She reached across and took his hand, placing it back in position. Their fingers interlocked.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
Nat smiled. “We’re only holding hands. I think I can live with that.”
“I’m sorry,” Max said again. “Just with your boyfriend and everything…”
“Like I said, we’re only holding hands. Nothing wrong with that. I think we need a little comfort right now. See it as the calm before the storm, eh?” She released a long breath. “Those messages he left have me worried. He sounded so angry. I’ve never heard him like that before.”
“How long have you been together?”
“A year…and two days.”
Max patted her hand and stood up. “Wow.”
“Wow? That’s not long.”
Stretching his legs, Max said, “It is for me.”
“A year?”
“Yeah. Anything really.”
Nat also stood, forgetting the dark surroundings for a moment. She rested her hands on her hips. “Anything? Come on, don’t tell me you’ve never been with anyone.”
Max scratched the back of his neck and lowered his eyes to the floor. “It’s always been kind of hard in my situation.” He coughed. “We shouldn’t be talking about this. Maybe I’m just nervous. We need to be quiet and wait for the others…” He glanced at the hatch. “Or whoever else should make it through to here.”
Nat removed her coat and sat back down. “You’re right. Come here.”
Max returned to her side and slid down the wall to sit. Nat, using her coat as a blanket, draped it over them. Beneath, their hands found each other.
Nat laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
29.
Turn after turn, junction after junction. Apart from a few small differences—the lighting hub had been smashed and a shopping trolley lay in the corner—this tunnel looked like all the others. If the dog had been sent to confuse them and lead them deeper into the network, the little bastard had done its job.
Furry little shit. When I catch up with it…
“Johan?” asked Simon. “You think the dog belongs to them, don’t you?”
Johan nodded and resumed his trek down the tunnel. The water had long since penetrated his boots and the fetid water chilled his feet. He imagined the bacteria swarming into his pores.
Should have put bags on, he thought. Plastic bags over my feet would have stopped this.
He planned to use the wipes on his feet at the earliest opportunity.
“Where do you think it’s taking us?”
“To them,” Johan replied. “Hopefully.”
The rest of the group followed along behind. The beam from Richie’s flashlight bobbed along the walls.
A bark echoed from ahead.
“It’s close,” said Johan.
Instead of another wide pipe, the tunnel ended in a high archway, the bricks black with congealed grime. Light flickered from within and cast long shadows across the walls and water.
The bark came again.
“It’s in there,” said Johan. He shifted the gun to his other hand and wiped the sweat from his palm.
Keeping to the side, he edged closer to the archway. He held up a hand, signalling the others to stay back.
The boys watched, silent.
Johan arrived at the threshold of the next room.
“Kev,” he hissed. “Get up here.”
Weapon at the ready, Kev crept up to Johan’s side, slowly sweeping his feet through the shallow water. He stopped on the other side of the archway and peered around the edge.
“See anything?” asked Johan.
“No,” said Kev. “Not really.”
“On three?”
Kev blew out a long breathe that made his fat round cheeks bulge out even more. His skin had blossomed the colour of raspberries, and sweat glistened across his brow. He nodded and raised the gun higher.
“One…” Johan whispered. “Two…”
The dog barked.
“Fuck…three!”
Both of them swung around the sides of the archway and stepped into the room.
The chamber, larger than Johan had thought, appeared to be a kind of central junction. Several matching archways led away from the circular hub. At its centre, the floor opened up in a wide pit.
Johan swept the point of his gun across the room. After a few seconds, he lowered it, realising they were alone. No freaks. No dog.
“Clear,” he said.
Looking relieved, Kev walked further into the room, craning his neck to gaze up.
“Jesus! Look how high it goes.”
“Watch it!” Johan yelled.
Kev glanced down in time to stop before the pit.
Standing still, Johan allowed his stare to rise and explore the upper reaches of the room. It reached an impressive height and ended in a wide grate. Through the slits in the metal, light seemed to flutter in and decorated the smooth walls with twinkling patterns.
“Those look like street lights,” said Johan. “It must go all the way up to the road.”
“Then we are lost,” said Simon on entering the room. “We haven’t been in here before.” He glanced around. “How the hell are we supposed to find their lair now?”
“That damn dog has led us this far. We’ll find them.”
Richie and Spence filed through the archway. The group stood around the pit a little way apart from one another.
“My God,” said Spence. “Look at this.”
With his attention on the missing dog and the street above, Johan hadn’t noticed the walls. At first, it looked like random scrawls and shapes had been painted, the work of a child or artistic genius. As Johan took a few steps forwards, he saw the true picture. The walls showed a street at night. High up along the walls, chalk lanterns shone down, illuminating the revellers gathered beneath. Higher still, a pale lemon moon glowed amid a tapestry of stars, all arranged in a purple wash of sky. The filtered light from the grate brought the stars to life.
“Incredible,” Johan gasped.
On the painted streets, every inch of wall had been covered in faces and figures locked in eternal happiness. Some danced, others laughed. Some made love while more people watched and clapped and cheered. At first, it reminded Johan of a Lowry, with so many people crammed together. He took another step forwards and rested his hand on the cold plaster.
“How long must it have taken to paint this?” asked Richie, staring up in wonder.
“A real long time,” said Johan and moved his hand.
From underneath, a face smiled up. Its eyes shimmered with green and just below its hairline sprouted two curly horns.
Johan frowned and leaned in for a closer look.
&n
bsp; He wasn’t sure if the figure was male or female. It fit with the rest of the party goers in swirling red robes.
Looks like a demon has snuck in, thought Johan.
He looked away and found another scene to the immediate left. Within a group of women in white gowns, a tiny figure danced a jig. He appeared all of three foot tall, his naked body covered in spines. His arms seemed to end in long, sharp points of bone. The women smiled down on him.
“This is fucked,” said Johan, looking around. Countless monsters lay hidden among the normal people in the painting, all laughing and joking together. “This is some kind of sick fantasy.”
“Yes,” said Simon. “I see them too. One of them must have done this.” He ran a hand over the paintwork. “You think this is what they want? To fit in?”
The idea turned Johan’s stomach, and he backed away from the wall, careful of the pit behind.
“Distractions,” he said. “That’s what the bloody dog was doing! They could all be making their escape while we stand around gawking.”
“He’s right,” said Simon. He looked crest-fallen, guilty for allowing himself to be misled. “Let’s keep going.”
“But what about the dog?” asked Spence. He gestured around the chamber. “It could have gone through any of these archways. There are what, eight tunnels from here?”
Johan did a quick count. Spence was right.
“Then I don’t know,” he said after a moment’s thought. “I guess it’s down to luck.”
A shrill whistle rang out and swept around the circular room like an aural tornado.
“What the hell was that?” asked Richie. “Dogs can’t whistle.”
“Then it wasn’t the dog,” said Johan and readied his weapon.
The boys waited around the pit and listened to the rise and fall of the whistling crescendo. It stopped abruptly.
“Here we go, boys,” whispered Johan. “Get ready…”
The whistling started anew, this time with a cheerful tune.
“What?” hissed Simon. “What the? It’s a song… I know it but can’t quite…”
“‘Going Underground,’” Johan growled. “This fucker is playing with us.”
Behind Kev, something darted past in a dark archway.
“There!” shouted Johan and raised the gun.
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