Lair

by James Herbert

  ‘But we don't know that all the exits have been blocked yet,’

  said Thornton.

  ‘We have to take that chance; we can't waste any more time.

  If they suddenly make up their minds that they want out, nothing will stop them.’

  ‘I agree with Luke,’ said Lehmann. ‘It appears to be too dangerous to send out small groups to seal the holes anyway.’

  ‘How many of these groups are out at the moment?’ asked Thornton.

  ‘Seven,’ Howard answered promptly. ‘Roughly in these areas.’ His fingers stabbed seven times at the map before him.

  ‘Call them in,’ said Thornton, firmly. ‘No point in risking further lives. We'll do as Mr. Pender requests: use the gas immediately.’

  ‘But if they should break free? If they can't be contained

  . . . ?’ Pender recognized the voice and turned towards Edward Whitney-Evans.

  ‘The cyanide gas will work within seconds and the pumps are powerful enough to penetrate deeply. They shouldn't have a chance to escape.’

  Major Cormack tapped the map thoughtfully. I think we have enough men to cover any area above the sewers we think particularly vulnerable. We could cover the whole blessed network if necessary, although that would mean thinning our perimeter considerably. Flame-throwers and machine-gun fire should take care of any beggars breaking loose, provided we keep a sharp lookout.’

  Stephen Howard leaned forward. You realise we can't provide your men with protective suits. There just aren't enough.’

  Pender smiled grimly. ‘I'm afraid the suits don't give enough protection. We left six or seven men back there in the forest who would testify to that if they were still alive.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, which was eventually broken by Thornton. ‘How many rats attacked you? Have you any idea?’

  Pender shook his head. ‘It seemed like thousands - they were everywhere - but in reality I don't think there were more than a couple of hundred.’

  ‘Good God, that many? We imagined they were a small isolated group.’

  ‘Hopefully, there's even less now. We ran into your reinforce-ments on the way up. They should have destroyed quite a few.’

  ‘I'm afraid not.’ Captain Mather had appeared at the ratcatcher side. We've just had word by radio. When the troops got to the area, there were no rats in evidence. Plenty of dead ones - those we killed - but no living rats. Apart from what was left of our men, and the vermin corpses, the area was deserted.’

  Pender made his way towards the improvised medical room at the end of the corridor the same room where Jan Wimbush had been attacked only two nights before. He glanced into a classroom to his right as he passed, surprised at its dramatic transformation. It now had the total appearance of a military operations room, banks of radio equipment stretched along one wall, blocking out half the light from the picture windows, an enlarged, mounted map displaying numerous coloured pointers spread out on the joined tables in the centre of the room, and machinery - some looking like television monitoring sets, others like radar scanners - that Pender could not hope to recognize. A constant hubbub came from the room and he wondered how anyone could think, let alone direct operations from there.

  Mingling with the brown uniforms of the military were the dark blue uniforms of the police. A joint operation. He hoped they wouldn't get in each other's way.

  He passed on and entered the last classroom where the injured soldiers were being treated. It wasn't meant to cope with any serious crisis, for there were enough proper hospitals in the surrounding suburban areas; it was only a place to attend to minor injuries, cuts and bruises. The Warden's wife, Tessa Milton, was busy organizing tea and coffee for the soldiers who were good-humouredly asking for whisky and gin, while the medical officers were dabbing at their wounds with treated pads.

  He saw Vic Whittaker near a window, Jenny clearing the blood from the gash in his face, and he headed towards them.

  Tessa Milton caught him lightly by the arm as he passed. ‘Oh, Mr. Pender. Is there any news of the other groups?’

  They're being called back in,’ the ratcatcher told her, realising she was concerned about her husband who was with one of the search-parties. They haven't run into any trouble yet -

  they'd have radioed in if they had. We were just unlucky, that's all.’

  She smiled up at him, the anxiety still in her eyes. ‘I'm sure you're right. Did you get hurt?’

  ‘A few flesh pinches, bruises. No cuts.’ He was suddenly aware of just how painful those 'pinches' were.

  ‘Jolly good,’ she said brightly. Would you like some tea? Or coffee?’

  ‘No thanks. I've got to get back out there. We're going to gas the sewers.’

  Tessa frowned and was about to ask another question, but Pender excused himself and walked over to Jenny and Whittaker.

  Jenny's smile was radiant when she saw him. ‘Are you okay, Luke? I've been so worried about you . . . all.’

  ‘I'm fine,’ he assured her. He looked down at Whittaker and studied the deep wound on his face. You'll have a handsome scar there,’ he told him.

  ‘It's the rest of my body that really hurts,’ said Whittaker. ‘I feel as though every inch of skin has been bitten.’

  ‘We had a lucky escape. If it hadn't been for Captain Mather keeping a cool head, we'd have been finished.’

  Whittaker looked down and studied his hand which was red and raw with teeth marks. ‘I want to thank you for helping me back there, Pend ... Luke. I don't think I could have held that bastard away from my face much longer.’

  Pender said nothing.

  ‘You're going to need stitches, Vic,’ said Jenny, 'so I'll let the experts take care of that. Let's have your shirt off and I'll treat the bruises.’

  As the senior tutor peeled off his shirt Jenny turned to Pender, concern in her eyes.

  ‘Are you sure you're all right, Luke? Let me have a look at you.’

  Pender grinned. ‘Jenny, I've got bruises in places you wouldn't believe; but I haven't got time to let you examine them.’

  ‘You're not going out there? There's nothing more you . . .’

  ‘We're going to gas the sewers a little earlier than planned.’

  ‘But they don't need you for that.’

  ‘I'm going to be there.’ Any warmth had left his face and she knew it was pointless to argue.

  ‘What if they get out?’ Whittaker said and both Jenny and Pender winced as they saw the red patches and teeth indents all over his torso. Large areas of skin were already turning a yellowish purple. By tomorrow, he would hardly be able to move.

  ‘The troops are moving in,’ said Pender. ‘It's something we should have done in the first place. Instead of sealing any exits with cement, they'll keep them blocked with fire and bullets.’

  ‘And the rats that are already outside those that attacked us?’

  ‘Disappeared. When the other soldiers got there, the rats had all gone. Hopefully, they found their way back into the sewers.’

  ‘And if there are others running free?’

  ‘We'll deal with them later. Our first concern is to eliminate the main force and they're in the sewers. The rest should be just a tidying-up exercise.’

  ‘I hope you're right.’

  Pender pulled the sleeve of his protective suit up, tugging at the elasticated wristband to examine his watch. The soldiers should be in position within the hour. In the meantime, I'll do a quick tour of the main pumping sites to make sure they're ready. I'll see you both later.’ He turned and headed for the door.

  ‘Luke?’ Jenny's voice made him pause, and he was surprised at her hurt tone. ‘I'll come with you to your car,’ she said, catching up with him.

  They walked out into the busy corridor leaving the senior tutor staring after them.

  ‘I won't be using my car, Jenny,’ Pender said, ‘I'll be under armed escort. There's no way I'm going back into the forest on my own.’

  ‘Th
en I'll walk you to your escort,’ she replied. ‘Luke, do you really have to go? Haven't you done enough for one day?’

  He stopped and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking intently into her face. ‘Jenny, I won't stop until those bastards have been wiped from the face of the earth.’

  The venom in his words frightened her and she dropped her eyes from his. His grip slackened and his hands fell away. Jenny kept up with him as he strode towards the reception area.

  Once there he stooped to retrieve his fallen helmet, then pulled the tutor to one side, away from the figures that bustled to and fro. He smiled down at her, the old warmth returning.

  ‘Stop worrying. Everything will be under control after we've used the cyanide, you'll see.’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  Jenny responded by clasping a hand around his waist, but drew it back hastily when he winced.

  ‘Luke, you really are hurt.’ She looked anxiously down at his side.

  He drew in a deep breath, smiling. ‘That doesn't help.’

  ‘Please, let the medical officer look at you.’

  Pender shook his head. ‘It's nothing serious. Just bruises.

  Hey, you didn't tell me how Jan Wimbush and Will are doing.’

  ‘Jan is still under sedation. Oh, Luke, her injuries are terrible. Her face . . . The wound at the back of her neck is the one the doctors are really worried about. Fortunately, the spine was undamaged, but the wound beside it is so deep. It was touch-and-go for the first twenty-four hours. They think she'll pull through, though.’

  The coldness had crept back into Pender's features. ‘And Will?’ he asked.

  ‘He should be out tomorrow. He's got a nasty wound in his leg where the rat bit him, but no muscles or tendons were torn.

  They're only keeping him in to make sure there isn't any infection. Or disease. He's terribly upset about poor Jan . . .’

  ‘Ready, Mr. Pender?’ Captain Mather stood two yards from them, Mike Lehmann at his side.

  ‘You're going back for more, Captain?’ said Pender, surprised.

  ‘Why not?’ came the reply. Then, with a grin, ‘They're only rats.’

  Mike Lehmann rolled his eyes heavenwards, but seemed in good humour now that the gassing was underway.

  ‘Okay, Luke. Check the north first, then the southern outlets. There's no way the vermin can get into the surrounding sewer networks - every connection is sealed tight. So we won't be getting any complaints from the local authorities saying we've driven monsters on to their patch. We've got 'em boxed in, Luke, no way out.’

  ‘Okay. I'll report back to you from each base. I'll stay with the last one until they've completed pumping.’

  ‘Right. Good luck.’

  Pender looked down at Jenny. ‘I'll see you later,’ he said.

  ‘Be sure you do.’

  Then he was gone, tramping down the path in his awkward suit, Captain Mather striding briskly by his side. They headed for a scout car, two lounging soldiers snapping to attention as they approached.

  ‘Why did he have to go this time?’ Jenny said aloud. ‘He's done his job.’

  ‘His job?’ Lehmann had joined her at the reception area's long window. ‘It's more than just a job to Luke, miss, er . . .

  Jenny, isn't it?’

  She nodded, turning towards Ratkill's head biologist. ‘What do you mean, more than just a job?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘With Luke, it's more of a vendetta. He despises the rats.’

  ‘But why?’

  You didn't know? I thought . . .’ Lehmann left the sentence unfinished, and turned his gaze back to the window, his face expressionless.

  ‘Please tell me,’ Jenny persisted.

  Lehmann let out a deep breath. ‘Luke's parents and younger brother were killed by Black rats in the London Outbreak, four years ago. He was living in the North at the time because of his work.’

  Jenny closed her eyes. She had known, sensed instinctively, that there was an underlying seriousness behind Luke's flippant remarks regarding his job.

  ‘It was months after the incident that Luke contacted Ratkill. I suppose it took that long to get himself together. Stephen Howard was an old friend of his. He knew the full story and discussed it with me before he decided to take him on. I must say, I was against the idea, even though we needed as many men as we could get at that time: I didn't want any of my staff taking unnecessary risks, you see. Anyway, Howard overruled me, said Luke was a professional, whatever his motives. When I got to know Luke, I had to agree.’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘I didn't realise.’

  ‘I'm sorry. I assumed he'd told you. From what I've seen over the last couple of days, you two seem, er . . . close? It's not something Luke talks about much, although I think it would be better for him if he did. It might get it out of his system. Maybe he'll tell you in his own time. I wouldn't mention that I . . .’

  Jenny shook her head again. ‘I won't. At least now I know why he does this godawful job. I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . .’

  ‘It's all right,’ Lehmann said, chuckling. ‘You're right: it is a godawful job. But thank God some of us are inclined to do it.

  Now I've got to get back next door and synchronize the gas pumping. We want all the machines to be used at the same time so there's nowhere for the vermin to run to.’

  Lehmann smiled at the tutor. ‘Don't worry about Luke, Jenny. This'll be good for him. It'll help purge some of the hate that's been building up inside him for all these years. You can be sure of one thing though, he won't be happy until every last one of them is dead.’

  They pumped the cyanide into the underground tunnels and prayed. There was no reason why the deadly fumes should not eliminate the vermin completely, for they were trapped, sealed in their own tomb; yet every man felt uneasy, as though they were dealing with more than just animals, but something un-known, something alien to their world. They listened to the sounds from below through earphones, the microphones sunk deep into the earth, penetrating the dark chambers, and heard the cries of the dying creatures, their panic as they fought to free themselves, the frantic scraping against solid walls, their terrified squeals as they scrambled over each others' backs to get clear of the destructive, seeping gas.

  Some, just a few, managed to scrabble their way through an undetected opening, close to where Pender's group had been attacked earlier, but the soldiers were waiting for them. The first through were burnt to black ash by the flamethrowers, and those immediately behind had their lungs seared with the heat. Their corpses blocked the narrow passageway as effectively as the cement, for although their companions tried to gnaw their way through the bodies, the creeping fumes stole over them and they quivered in final, painful death-throes.

  The men above the ground could not see the carnage that was taking place below, but they could feel the death in the air, they could envisage the desperate struggle inside the black cata-combs. Even the forest itself seemed to maintain a respectful silence.

  On the faces of the men who listened into the receivers was a mixture of disgust and pity. The cries in their ears seemed to belong to hundreds upon hundreds of children, screaming their panic, wailing as they died. It did not take long for the gas to penetrate every dark hole of the sewer network and soon the radio men at their different points began removing the head-phones, feeling no gloating victory, just an ebbing of their spirit. They looked up at the silent men around them and nodded. The rats were dead.

  Sixteen

  ‘Luke, you look done in. Come and join us in the Warden's office, we'd like to discuss something with you.’

  Pender wearily tossed the helmet into the corner of the reception area and stared into Stephen Howard's smiling face.

  ‘If it's all the same to you, I'd like to get back to my hotel and take a long, hot bath. Can't we meet later?’

  ‘Afraid not. I promise you, it won't take long.’ The research director turned on his heels, still smiling pleasantly, and strode from the reception
area, taking the corridor leading to Alex Milton's office. Pender followed, his limbs stiff from the bruising he'd received earlier that day.

  The only people in the small room were Mike Lehmann and Antony Thornton. The research director immediately walked over to a cabinet on one side of the office on which stood an assortment of drinks.

  ‘The Warden sent these over from his private stock,’ Howard explained, his smile now beginning to irritate Pender. ‘Still Scotch, no ice, no water?’

  Pender nodded and sank into a straight-backed chair beneath the room's only window. He pulled off the thick gloves and dropped them on the floor, flexing his fingers and examining the red marks on them. Howard handed him the Scotch, his expression one of sympathy.

  ‘I'm sure you must be rather sore in places after that dreadful attack today. Thank God we had these suits reinforced after the Outbreak.’

  Pender took a long swallow of his drink, momentarily closing his eyes at the liquid warmth. ‘As I said earlier, they'll need to be made even tougher. They didn't stand up well enough.’

  ‘Of course. Now the danger is over, well have time to improve them.’

  Thornton, seated at the Warden's desk, raised his own glass.

  ‘I think congratulations are in order, Stephen. Once again your company has provided an invaluable service to the country.

  God knows where we'd have been without your expertise.’

  ‘It's not all over yet,’ said Mike Lehmann staring down into his glass. There may still be others running free on the outside.

  Those that attacked Luke, for instance.’

  ‘I quite agree,’ said Howard, his smile gone. He sat in a seat facing Thornton and reached for his own drink that had been perched near the edge of the desk. We have to be pessimistic, Antony. You may think us over-cautious, but we can take no chances whatsoever. It is possible the rats that attacked Luke and his group returned to their companions in the sewers -

  after all, the one unblocked exit that was discovered when the gassing started was quite near the spot where the attack took place. But we cannot assume that is the case: the forest has to be searched thoroughly before we can give the all-clear.’