by Peter Knyte
As strange as the scene appeared to the naked eye it was doubly so when viewed through the wider prism of the combined spectrum, the heat and other stored energy signatures of the solidified pools of metal and glass was breathtakingly beautiful in places, all the more so because of its stark counterpoint with the twisted girders and other debris that had withstood the blisteringly high temperatures.
In places it almost looked as though some great structure was trying to emerge from the tranquil pools of previously molten material, while in others there was no mistaking the fact that the process had actually been the other way around.
It was of course around the periphery of the canon impacts that things survived more completely, creating an even stranger effect. A carriage that was completely dissolved at one end had survived well enough at the other to still be hitched to its neighbour which seemed completely untouched.
We walked carefully through the scene, the soles of our boots hissing occasionally as we stepped on things that were still very hot. It was a fairly easy trail to follow, Fraser’s shots having followed the line the creature took as it attempted to flee, but he’d lost it a couple of times where it had cut sideways through or beneath the cover provided by the carriages, only for him to spot it again when it appeared back in the open. He’d also fired the occasional wild shot off to the side of where he’d last seen the creature, thinking it might be hiding, and had at least once managed to drive it from its cover.
As we examined the scene, trying to find the point where the creature had managed to get away, it was difficult to imagine where it could’ve finally found shelter from the onslaught of the canons, but then we stumbled across something that looked promising.
It was clearly an area of the yard that had been used to periodically wash down and clean the outside of the commuter carriages.
Located on the edge of one of Fraser’s wild shots, off to the side of where he’d seen the creature last were the remains of the carriage washing equipment, which had survived in places despite being made of softer metal, presumably because of the pressurised water feeding through it. The entire apparatus was now leaking in a hundred different places, spraying the area with water, but despite having been running for a couple of days non-stop the area hadn’t flooded.
Hughes was clearly thinking the same.
‘There must be a drain around here somewhere,’ he commented. ‘Perhaps one big enough to provide the creature with access to the sewer.’
It took a minute or two find enough of the valves to turn all the spraying water off, so we could examine the area without getting soaked, and in the process Fraser found a working hose that he dragged around to create a more manageable flow of water which we could follow.
The entire washing apparatus had clearly been designed with several carriages or a train in mind, probably with an engine at the front, though if there had been one here it was now part of the molten pool of metal that surrounded the site.
‘It there was a grate or guttering under that lot big enough for the creature wouldn’t all this have drained away,’ Fraser asked, pointing at the obviously substantial sheet of steel and glass.
‘Perhaps,’ I conceded. ‘Or maybe a lot of it did, before it sealed itself somehow.’
‘You know,’ chipped in Hughes. ‘If this place was designed to wash down a good portion of the city’s rolling stock, that would add up to a lot of dust and grit over time, and dust and grit would only carry so far in the water before it started to settle, so the railyard would have to be able to get down there to clear it out once in a while.
‘Now if that’s the case,’ he continued. ‘I’d wager there are several access hatches along the route of the drain to make that job easier. We just have to figure out which way the drain runs.’
It was worth a try, so we spread out and started circling around the washing apparatus in gradually larger and larger circles, ignoring the areas which were densely covered in rails.
Two minutes later and we’d found it in the shape of a small brick built building that even had a typically informative tinplate notice on the door informing the world that this was in fact the Culvert access point D6, and only authorised personnel were permitted to enter and of course that there were steps.
I couldn’t help but smile as we opened the unlocked door and entered.
There were a half dozen electric lamps and hard hats located inside, which we availed ourselves of before opening the trapdoor that revealed the concrete steps down into the culvert.
The steps brought us down to the side of a large reinforced concrete pipe, which was accessed through another door with another tinplate notice informing us that hardhats must be worn at all times.
I stopped briefly to draw my gun before opening this second door. I had my lenses operating again so had no need of the electric lamps, and just before I opened the door onto the culvert I noticed from the electrical conductivity in their skin that both Hughes and Fraser were much more tense than they had been a minute before.
I knew I should have been feeling that tension as well, but instead I sensed only the increasingly familiar ember of rage which never seemed to fully die down.
As soon as I opened the door the warmth of the air within the culvert washed over us along with an obviously metallic odour, indicating at least some of the molten metal must’ve found its way down here.
It was the work of moments to make our way down the sandy floored pipe to where the molten metal from the cannon strike had flowed in along with the water to create a solid waterfall of molten metal and glass. Molten metal and glass which had obviously solidified within minutes, but not before it had started to run down the culvert as a superheated river.
The metal curtain was still far too hot for us to get right up against, but we could get close enough to see the rectangular outline of the drainage hatch through which the creature might have gained access.
‘If this creature was caught under that waterfall of molten metal I can’t imagine how it could’ve survived,’ Hughes remarked, looking slightly uneasy.
‘It must’ve only just made it down here in time,’ I commented, retracing our steps down the river of metal to where the floor of the pipe became sand and grit once more.
I hadn’t thought to look so closely at the floor when we were moving up the culvert, but now as we examined it more closely it was obvious that the creature had come this way. There was a boot print which had been pressed into the metal while it was still soft, followed by an obvious hand print a step further on, both of which must have burned the creature further as it fled the flaming river of metal. Further down the tunnel beyond the point at which our own tracks came in from the side I could clearly see other tracks where the creature had half-walked half-dragged itself along the sandy floor.
We moved further along the tunnel, knowing now we were on the right track, here and there signs that the creature had stopped or fallen again, before getting up and moving on. Eventually after what must’ve been a few hundred yards, the culvert emptied into a main sewer drain at the junction of several other sewer and storm-drain lines. The particles of sand and dust from the train wash had collected at this point to form a sort of beach, and again we could all clearly see the marks left by the creature as it moved across this area, and toward a corner of the sewer where lots of debris from the storm drains had gathered.
Making our way over to this large pile of debris, we just about managed to avoid having to wade through the sewer, and as soon as we got close I could see that the creature must’ve stopped here for a while. There were carcasses of rats everywhere, dozens upon dozens of them, as well as a number of their more recently arrived still living relatives who had been drawn to the free banquet.
‘It must’ve holed up here to recover,’ Fraser commented, looking at the array of carcasses.
I had to agree, but there was something else about the site that made uneasy.
‘Do you think all this material could’ve just washed
down to this one spot?’ I asked, looking at the huge pile of sticks and cardboard, odd pieces of cloth, even a Police officer’s hat.
‘Why do you ask?’ Fraser said, looking more closely at the pile of rubbish.
‘This almost looks like something the creature accumulated over several days, a kind of nest.’ I replied. ‘But we’ve never seen this kind of behaviour before from a Lamphrey.
‘Could we identify which officer lost that hat if we took it back?’ I asked.
‘Maybe,’ commented Fraser. ‘Some forces keep track of that kind of thing so they can charge officers for the lost item if they make a habit of it.’
Time was getting on, and we still needed to get back to the ship and make our way over to the lower-east side of Manhattan Island in order to help out with the search, so I quickly snagged the hat with a bit of stick and we started to scout around looking for an exit.
We found one just a few yards up from the junction in one of the storm drains. It was a simple ladder this time, leading up to a manhole cover which only took a moment to remove, and which brought us up on the other side of the railyard. I didn’t recognise the street, but with the ship hanging in the sky not far away it was easy to figure out which direction we needed to head in.
We’d only walked about fifty yards toward the ship, when we stumbled across a roped off area near to a police notice indicating that the area was dangerous and members of the public should leave it immediately.
That in combination with the dark stains on the ground behind the rope, suggested this was the site where the Police radio car had been attacked and the driver killed. It was a grisly thought that I might be carrying that very drivers hat in my hand, but for the life of me I couldn’t imagine why the creature would’ve taken it.
CHAPTER 26 - TRACES
We found our way back to the ship fairly quickly, although it did involve having to scale a fence to get back into the railyard, and in no time we were back aboard and heading over to Manhattan Island.
With the ship largely back in operational order and no more signs of the generators unexpectedly surging, it was smooth sailing above the morning traffic.
There was no way of not causing a bit of a sensation as we flew across the lower-east side, but in order to keep the disruption to a minimum Platt had asked us to use Columbus Park as our drop off point. A crowd of people quickly gathered to wave and shout their hello’s as descended, but the Police Captain had a car waiting to pick us up and take us to our designated entry points along the Bowry, so we were whisked away fairly quickly. Only Fraser and myself were disembarking, while Jenkins, Hughes and the Captain remained aboard to fly the ship.
As we got closer to going down into the sewers I couldn’t help but wonder whether it was entirely wise for so many people to be heading down there with the creature as I would be the only person amongst the search teams with the ability to see it, if it had somehow healed enough to be able turn invisible again. I didn’t think it was likely even a Lamphrey could’ve healed so much damage so quickly, so I was probably just being over concerned, as even in the worst case scenario, in the confines of the sewers the lensing scopes which the search teams had used before should be much more effective than they had been in the open, but even so I still couldn’t stop thinking about it.
It had occurred to me earlier on when we’d been heading over to the railyard, and I’d persuaded Fraser to try and get the hang of using a full lensing rig. It wasn’t a very good option but he had a natural talent with lenses so I thought it was worth a try.
Having seen me use my own rig he wasn’t confident he could remember the various intricacies of its operation in such a short time, but he was willing to consider it.
‘Could you not just set up for me and I’ll just switch it on if I need it?’ He asked, optimistically.
‘They just don’t work that way,’ I had to explain. ‘They’re designed only to be used by someone that knows what they’re doing, and to reset in order to preserve power and the lenses themselves whenever they’ve not been in use for a bit.’
He’d tried them anyway, but even with his natural aptitude he still managed to get completely confused with-in moments, and after half an hour of struggling we both eventually had give-up on the idea.
‘Thanks for the offer Ashton,’ he said, taking the rig off and handing it back to me. ‘But if I can’t get it straight when I’m not under pressure, there’s no hope of me figuring it out once we’re in the field.’
I had to concede it was a fair point, so let the matter drop, and just hoped they wouldn’t have been needed.
By the time we got the Bowry, the search teams were all ready to go, so the car just dropped us off in turn at our entry points. Each team would consist of three people, two armed police and a sanitation department worker who knew the sewers in this area well enough to act as a guide.
I’d been paired up with a Blake and Shelby again while their sergeant, Riley was re-cooperating from our run in with Ariel in the old boat-yard, that had resulted in him coming away with a broken leg.
They were both looking pleased to see me despite the slightly fraught nature of our last meeting, and immediately introduced me to our guide an older gentleman of eastern European extraction by the name of Leopold, but who insisted we call him simply Leo.
Despite being dressed in a set over overalls, Leo somehow managed to make them look smart. They were immaculately clean and pressed, as was the white shirt he wore, complete with bow tie.
He had several pairs of wellington boots, along with safety hats and some long rubberised gloves for us to put on before he showed us the way down into the sewer tunnels beneath the road, leading the way and then talking us down the darkened ladder and onto a broad ledge at the bottom.
‘You’re lucky to be doing this in the summer,’ Leo explained, as he shone the beam from his electric torch up and down each of the main channels that fed into the junction. ‘I know everyone up above thinks it must smell more down here with the heat, but it’s the water level that’s more important than anything else.
‘The main lines like this one run from north to south,’ he continued, as if giving a lecture on the subject. ‘Just like the streets and buildings above us, with the slightly smaller cross channels linking between them, similar to the cross streets above, and of course we’ve got a combination of storm drains and sewers, so when it rains these sewers turn into some pretty fast flowing bodies of water.
‘Needless to say, if we were down here in the winter or spring, you’d need a lot more than a pair of boots and some gloves to keep you clean and dry.’
It was certainly rather ripe smelling when we got down next to the flowing water, but it was nowhere near as bad as I’d expected, and within minutes of being down there with Leo politely rambling on to himself, I’d practically forgotten about the smell as we started making our way eastward down the cross-channel we were supposed to be following.
I’m not sure what I was expecting when Platt and Jenkins were talking about forming a line and trying to, forgive the pun, flush the creature out of the sewers and into the East River. But it certainly wasn’t a fifteen foot tall and twenty five foot wide brick lined sewer system that had raised walkways on each side and even handrails and street signs in places, not only that, it also seemed remarkably . . . clean.
The plan we’d come up with on the surface had been a relatively simple one. All the search teams would simply start at the same time on the north-south sewer line that followed the Bowery. We’d make our way eastwards, check-ing out any smaller culverts or side channels as we went, and then when we reached the next major north-south line, we would wait until we could see a flashlight signal from each team to our north and south, and when everyone had checked in we would once again proceed.
All the police officers were issued with their whistles which they were instructed to use as normal to summon help if needed.
We fell into a deceptively normal routine after check-ing t
he first few culverts and side channels that would be big enough for the creature to get into. We stopped at the next north-south sewer and liaised with the other teams without a hitch.
It was then that we started to find the rats, just one or two, but completely eviscerated, and beneath the power of my lenses totally drained of any trace of life.
In no time, one or two turned into half a dozen, and then piles of the things too numerous to count.
‘Thought they were a bit thin on the ground,’ commented Leo, almost sympathetically as he once again pushed them into the flowing water beside us with the steel rod he carried like a walking-stick.
‘Perhaps I should take the lead now Leo,’ I suggested, unfastening the flap on my holster.
‘As you wish sir,’ he said, politely giving ground and allowing me to step past. ‘I’ll attempt to warn you before we reach any side channels worth investigating.’
I started my lensing rig running again, as we proceeded, but with the exception of the trail of dead rats there appeared to be nothing else out of the ordinary, and eventually after checking out several more side channels we made it to the next main sewer line running from north to south.
A moment later and we got a response to our flashlight signal from the team to our north, but after waiting for a further ten minutes there was still no sign of a signal from the team to our south.
There was no alarm whistle, but it was clear something was up, so I asked the rest of the team wait where they were while I investigated, but I’d gone barely thirty feet before the signal finally appeared in the darkness, indicating the team had arrived in the main sewer.