by Lee Isserow
ABAM.INFO
PRESENTS
IN THE BLOOD
By
LEE ISSEROW
Copyright © 2017 Lee Isserow
All rights reserved.
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PART THREE
THE BLOOD FLOWS
1
The network of sewer tunnels under London was extensive, just as intricate as any map of the city that lay above, if not more so. Great brick and concrete vessels for excrement that spanned out under every borough, from every village and township that had been absorbed into the mass of London as it expanded over hundreds upon hundreds of years. The capital had spent the time since its establishment sprawling out like a massive amorphous beast, much like the blood, devouring anything that stood in the way, making them a part of itself.
What started as a square mile of Roman Londinium on the bank of the Thames became a walled city, that burst past those walls as the Tudors, then the Stuarts continued to feed the city's insatiable appetite and unrestrained desire to grow. The great fire did its best to try and quell the ravenous beast's hunger by destroying four fifths of its buildings, but that only gave the city a greater yearning to spread out, to consume. Over the centuries it would double, triple, quadruple in size, swallowing whole anything that came in its path. In the last hundred years alone, London had doubled in size again. And the tunnels under the city, a broad lattice of brickwork and concrete, were not its veins, but its digestive tract, disposing of the effluence of almost nine million people.
It was deep in those bowels that Ben had been hiding with Kat and Luke, after they had escaped from the Blood Squad's headquarters at Thames House. When the prospect of living in the sewers was first raised, the child was excited. At five years old, he had no concept of the reality of the cesspool that was going to be their sanctuary. The word conjured images of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' lair, which was, unfortunately, not even close to the grim truth.
As they traversed the odorous catacombs, the blood seemed to be able to sense the boy's disappointment, and four of the crimson jelly bean creatures darted off down the tunnels, as if they had a solution in mind. Since they first came to the rescue, Ben had noticed that these things, the free blood, as the Blood Squad had called them, appeared to have some sort of central and yet individual thought process that was beyond normal human communication. Each had free will of some kind to act alone, and yet there was also a hive mind amongst them that could be dipped into.
The rest of the free blood led them to a junction between sewers old and new. Orange brick to the right side, a river of waste flowing through a large circular tunnel. The left side was constructed of brick at the mouth, that gave way to concrete, a square tunnel with sharp cuboid corners, leading to a newer part of the sewage system, a wide, short archway that was made of that same concrete as the walls. To the far left wall, there was a ladder, which led up to a balcony of sorts over the junction. This, the three determined, was what the blood deemed as a suitable area for them to stay. Out of the way of the flow of filth, deep enough underground that nobody might accidentally become aware of their presence, let alone actually see them.
With his last ounces of exoskeleton-aided strength, Ben climbed the ladder and surveyed the area, holding on to the rails at the edge of the balcony for dear life. He was well and truly out of adrenaline, let alone energy, having not eaten or slept for days at the hands of the Squad. It might have even been weeks, there was no way to tell. Not that he cared at that time. He was on the verge of passing out.
“We can't stay here...” Kat whispered to him, hoping Luke wouldn't hear.
“It's safer than anywhere you were hiding out with your group,” Ben said, in a hushed tone, his words drifting out between slow, shallow breaths. “Plus, we've got twenty-four seven guards by terrifying shape-shifting monsters that are on our side...” He chuckled weakly.
“Are they?” Kat asked. “How do you know they're on our side? Have you stopped to think how they survive outside a body? How they eat? What keeps them going?”
“Blood needs oxygen... can probably absorb that better without lungs, it's just sitting in the air, isn't it.” Another attempt at a laugh, his muscles did not appear to enjoy being jostled, aching with every movement.
“It needs iron too... and platelets don't last forever, where do they get more without bone marrow?”
“What are you, their biographer?”
“We've both seen the blood attack people, devour them alive, feed indiscriminately. Sure, they might have saved us, but what if they get hungry and we're the most convenient food source?”
Ben didn't have an answer, and even the thought of speaking was painful. He glanced over to Luke, who was playing with three of the free bloods. The child was running in circles, chasing them. The jelly beans had grown legs, jumping around him like excitable puppies.
He remembered Ailes saying the same thing, the first time he saw a 'goblin behind the glass. But that 'goblin was angry, gnashed its teeth at the barrier that lay between him and it. It desired flesh, wanted to consume. These ones, free from the bodies they used to inhabit, seemed almost gleeful as they played with Luke. They had no mouths, let alone teeth. Deep down though, he knew even the most playful puppy could turn, given the right – or wrong – circumstances.
Three of the free bloods that darted off earlier returned from a passage at the rear of the balcony. One flat to the ground, the other two on either side, carrying a couch between the three of them.
“Where the hell did they get that?” Kat asked.
Ben still couldn't muster the power of speech, but a smile did crawl up his face. For now, at least, they were certainly safe with these creatures. They had not only found this unconventional hiding place, but were now going out of their way to make it something close to comfortable for their guests.
The fourth blood appeared a few minutes later, looking very different to how it left. It was crawling, slug-like. The exterior of its skin was still a sheer, diaphanous red, but deep inside it there was a wide cube of brown. Through the jello texture, it looked a scabrous box that lay at its centre, like a chocolate filling to some gelatinous candy, around fifteen inches wide and long, six inches tall. The slug stopped in front of Luke, the cube ascending slowly through its mass with a soft gurgling sigh, until it came out the top of its body. The scabby lid lifted from the top of the box, steam rising from the contents, a warm, inviting smell filling the otherwise putrid air. His eyes became wide, a smile arcing across his face, showing the centimetre of gum where his front tooth once was.
Kat looked over to him, tried to tell him not to reach inside the creature's scabby container, but he was quicker than she could form the words, and brought a slice of pizza to his mouth.
“Just like ninja turtles!” he declared, his mouth full of an oily and cheesy and bready mush.
The blood slithered over to Kat, who lifted two pizza boxes from the scaly container. The brown cube swiftly receded, its hard shell softening, returning to bright red liquid as part of the slug's body. She took a slice to Ben, well aware that he was probably too weak to move. As the melted cheese hit his tongue, he felt like he had never tasted anything so delicious in all his life.
All three of them ate in silence, but for the wet, smacking sounds of their bites and chews. Whilst they did so, the blood under the couch wrestled its way out, and proceeded to belch out a skateboard, that rolled along the balcony and softly bumped into Luke's side. He turned, grabbed it with his greasy hands, raising it to the air, shouting “Cowabunga!”
The word ech
oed through the tunnels, across miles and miles of brick and concrete hidden beneath the city.
Ben couldn't hold the laugh in. It roared through him, aching with every guffaw, but it felt so good to laugh he dare not stifle it. All three of them laughed, and ate, and laughed some more. For that one night, all their troubles left them, in favour of embracing the ridiculousness of their situation and the weird altruism of their saviours.
But reality was soon going to set in. They wouldn't be safe, not in London, not even hiding deep beneath the streets, deep in its digestive tract. Perhaps they wouldn't be safe anywhere in the country, depending on the Squad's reach. One thing they knew for certain, was that they wouldn't be able to leave the city, wouldn't be able to find true safety, without help.
2
When the tide came in, and the water level rose in the tunnels, they felt fortunate for having been taken to the balcony. The rush of the Thames could have easily washed them down the tunnels. Perhaps even separating them at the junction below, or any number of junctions that lay ahead in the labyrinth of tunnels that forked out, and out, and no doubt forked out some more into the deep, dark dankness beyond.
Contrary to Kat's fear, the 'goblins showed no signs of having anything close to hostile intentions towards them. If anything, they were getting the impression that each of the free bloods knew they were all part of the same organism, connected by an unspoken bond through the infection that flowed through their veins. That was how it was beginning to feel to Ben, that the creatures each had free will, much like they as people had free will, but were all united by this infection. That's assuming that's what it really was, an infection. He had heard so many lies from the Squad, from Steve, he honestly had no idea what to believe any longer.
Ben woke with a start to a short, sharp squeal, an ungodly sound that ripped him from the blissful embrace of sleep. He turned, terrified that they had been discovered, that one of them had been harmed.
Relief washed over him, when he saw two bloods sucking down the fluids of a particularly large rat that had the misfortune of wandering a little too close. That was how they had been surviving underground. Devouring whatever creatures dwelled down there. There were rumours of there being two, three, or four rats for every person in London, so the blood certainly had plenty of food. He compelled himself to remember to tell Kat, hoping that it would reassure her that they were perfectly safe with these creatures.
When he regained some strength, Ben left the confines of their encampment, and found his way back to the grand archway they had come through when they first escaped. Every day, he climbed the rusting stairwell, hiding out of view, and watched the boats that went up and down the Thames. He was beginning to put together a plan to get out of the country. It wasn't much of a plan, he knew that all too well, but it was the only one they had. There were risks, but any plan would have risks. The question was, if Kat and Luke would be willing to throw caution to the wind and take the risks involved.
After five days in hiding, the majority of their time spent recovering and rejuvenating with the aid of the blood, Ben deemed that it was time to bring up the plan he had been concocting. At the very least, they might act as a sounding board for alternative elements. None of what he was scheming was set in stone, nor was it guaranteed for success, not by a long shot.
As soon as the words left his lips, Kat's face instantly showed horror at the prospect, and she voiced her concern. There was so much that could go wrong, so much that relied on hope, so much more that relied on putting their trust and faith in the free blood. It wasn't her own safety she was worried about. The idea of putting Luke anywhere close to further danger was abhorrent, and made her feel sick to her stomach.
Luke, however, was giddy with excitement. And somehow, to Ben's amazement, through his relentless enthusiasm she warmed to the idea. Way sooner than he ever could have expected, Kat was convinced that the entire thing would be an adventure, rather than a risk. She was on board, they all were.
Ben hated to admit it, but somewhere inside himself there was a giddy five year old who was just as excited as Luke. After all, soon they were going to be playing pirate.
3
Instigating Ben's plan meant leaving the safety of the sewer. As soon as the tide went out, the three of them stepped out of the grand, ancient archway, their feet sinking into the silty banks of the Thames as they walked to the staircase, ascending its slippery steps to the street above. They were all too aware that they could be seen on CCTV at any moment, and have the Blood Squad descend upon them. The tunnels they had been hiding in were all too close to Thames House, and the free blood seemed to be concerned about that more than they were, chasing after them, slinking past them, and linking together, forming a barrier that blocked the top of the stairwell.
“What?” Ben asked.
The 'goblin reached out with a tentacle and took hold of his hand, tugging him back down the stairs. He turned back around and followed it, Kat and Luke behind him, and they went back into the tunnels. The path the blood took them on brought them deeper into the sewage system than the balcony they had been living on. Twisting and turning through dark, dank passages. The stench grew the further they went, becoming thicker and more foul with every passing junction as they traversed the labyrinth. Ben considered stopping, finding something to scrawl a map on in case they got lost or were led astray. But he didn't say a word to the others, didn't wish to put seeds of doubt in Kat's mind. The blood knew exactly where they were heading, and he had to trust in them.
After what seemed like hours of mouth breathing and trying their best to avoid stepping in a steady river of effluence, the bloods signalled to a ladder.
“Where does this lead?” Ben asked.
The blood, unable to speak, simply pointed up the ladder with more veracity. They were to climb, no questions, and that was the end of the conversation.
“Whatever you say...” he sighed, starting to make his way up to street level.
Reaching the top, Ben found a heavy grate blocking their exit. He tucked his head down, pushing upwards with his shoulders, using the ladder as leverage, and heaved the grate up, pushing it to the side on the street. It clanged as it hit the tarmac, daylight flooding the dank tunnels below. He climbed out and caught his breath, helping Luke and Kat up onto the street.
They were in an alley in the heart of London's financial district. Ben recognised the monolithic buildings that surrounded them. The Gherkin signalled the direction they might take to get lost deeper in the city, St Paul's cathedral the landmark that was closer to the river, and far enough away from Millbank to maybe not get on the Squad's radar too quickly.
“Thank you,” he said to the bloods.
The creatures nodded, as if registering the thanks, and slid back down into the sewers.
“Which way?” Kat asked.
Ben pointed to the cathedral. “We head there, then it's just across the river, maybe only a mile or so.”
The financial district was a maze of small winding alleys that weaved their way in between the larger, busier roads. The three of them kept to the back streets as much as possible, their heads aimed low at the ground, in case the Squad was using facial recognition to track them. To further mask the three of them, Ben walked ahead for the first fifteen minutes, Kat and Luke following twenty or thirty metres behind, trying to act like two distinct groups. After those fifteen minutes passed, they switched it up, Ben and Luke walking together with Kat in the lead. The three of them walked together for a short while as they came closer to St Paul's, in order to discuss the route to take when they got there. The area was a tourist attraction, and was certain to be heavily surveilled.
Kat and Luke came round the left of the cathedral and headed down towards the Millennium Bridge. Ben came round the right hand side, and crossed over at London Bridge, the three of them meeting on the south bank, and continuing along the riverside towards their destination.
Ben had spent his days standing at the mouth of th
e tunnel well, making himself familiar with the various charter boat companies that sailed up and down the Thames. Most of the boats were small, not necessarily fit for going across the Channel, let alone the North Sea. However, one company stood out. YachtSea!. The banners hung off the sides of their vessels declared that (despite the punny name,) they had speedboats and yachts that held anything from ten to seventy people, with multiple cabins, kitchen and living areas, and operated cruises in the south of France. More importantly, from what Ben had seen, the boats seemed to go pretty damn fast.
The three of them came to a walkway emblazoned with the YachtSea! logo, that led down towards the river, a dock at the end, several boats moored side by side. An older man in a what Ben took to be a captain's hat was toiling away by one of them.
“Hi,” Ben said.
“Can I help you?” asked the man. He had a grizzled face, deep lines that forked in all manner of directions that didn't seem natural, as if he were a pencil sketch that had been crumpled up, a myriad folds left in the paper. Grey stubble on his jaw and thick bags under his eyes made him look older than he probably was, as did the deep tan, his skin tight with a leathery texture from too many days out on his boats in the sun.
“We... want a boat.”
“Yeah?” said the man, his voice deep and gravelly, words scratching against his vocal chords “You made a booking?”
Ben faltered. He had not thought enough about this stage of the plan. It was all good and well commandeering a boat, but how exactly was he going to do that had not been dwelled on. He knew there was the option to cut himself, to let a 'goblin out and threaten the captain, but that didn't feel right.
“No,” he said. “We're taking one, and you're going to drive it for us.”