The Tunnel Rats (49 page)

He caressed the knife he'd taken from Ramirez. It was a good weapon, a killing knife, razor sharp with a slightly curved end so that it would slip easily between the ribs. It had sliced cleanly through the black man's chest and arm, and only Wright's thrown flashlight had prevented Kruse from cutting Hammack's throat. Kruse smiled at how easily he'd made Hammack lose his temper. Kruse wasn't a racist, but he'd known instinctively that racial abuse was Hammack's weak spot, in the same way that he'd known that he could get to Wright through the policeman's feelings for his ex-wife. Kruse was as expert at finding weak spots as he was at killing.

Kruse had never intended to kill the three men in the chamber. He'd wanted to weaken them, to injure them if possible, but he wanted them alive. He needed them as bait.

Kruse crawled towards the hatch that led up to the second THE TUNNEL RATS 361 level. He'd wait there for his victims, assuming that the other killer didn't get to them first. He smiled at the thought of a slogan he'd once seen printed on a T-shirt: 'Yeah, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil. Because I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley.' Kruse's smile widened. Of one thing he was sure: he was the meanest son of a bitch down the tunnels.

Wright waited under the hatch that led up to the second level, sitting to one side so that he wasn't exposed from above. The hatch was closed, but he had no way of knowing if Bamber had already gone through or not. He looked back along the tunnel to where Hammack was dragging himself along. The tunnel was narrow, so Wright couldn't see Doc, who was bringing up the rear, but he could hear his whispers of encouragement.

There was nothing either man could do physically to help Hammack, as there wasn't enough room to pull or push him. Hammack grunted with each movement, and he was able to use only his left arm as he crawled. Doc had used Ramirez's headscarf as a sling to support Hammack's injured arm and Hammack kept it close to his chest in an attempt to maintain pressure on the dressings there.

It took Hammack almost twenty minutes to crawl the hundred feet to where Wright was sitting. He grinned ruefully at Wright. 'Sorry 'bout this,' he said.

'Hey, there's no rush,' said Wright. 'I'm tired, too. This pace is fine.'

Hammack lay down on his side and groaned. 'I could sleep for a month,' he said.

'We can rest here for a while,' said Doc.

'How 'bout you call room service and order us all a beer?' said Hammack. He chuckled, but the chuckle swiftly turned into a series of coughs that wracked his chest.

Wright took off his goggles and blinked as his eyes became accustomed to the pale yellow light from Doc's flashlight. 'Have you got spare batteries for that?' asked Wright.

'Three more,' said Doc. 'I figured I'd wait until these fail completely before I put them in.'

Hammack's chest began to rise and fall slowly and he snored quietly.

'Do you think he's going to be okay?' asked Wright.

'He's lost a lot of blood,' said Doc, 'but he's not in shock, not yet, anyway. He's tough. He'll make it.'

'I think it might be better if you went ahead of him,' said Wright. 'Let him bring up the rear.'

'We're not leaving him,' said Doc.

'That's not what I meant,' said Wright.

'What did you mean?'

'If anything did happen, you'd be trapped behind him. If you were in the middle, you could still move.'

'If he dies, you mean?'

Wright sighed. 'Look, don't be so defensive, Doc. I just mean that in the event of there being a problem, there'd be no point in you being stuck behind him. Besides, you've got the flashlight, you should be in front of him, not behind. He can't use the flashlight, not with his injured arm.'

'The man's right, Doc,' said Hammack, his eyes still closed.

'I thought you were asleep,' said Doc, patting him on the leg.

'Too much noise to sleep,' said Hammack. 'Time we started moving, huh? We haven't got all day.'

Kruse crouched down in the conical chamber, his knife in his hand. He switched off his infra-red goggles to get rid of the distracting high-pitched humming noise they made, then took them off and laid them on the floor. There were three exits leading from the chamber, and Kruse knew that his quarry would be coming down the tunnel he was facing. They were making slow and noisy progress, which was just what Kruse wanted. If he could hear them coming, so could the killer. All Kruse had to do was to watch and wait, and when the killer eventually struck,

Kruse would be there to take care of the business. He smiled in the darkness.

He stiffened as he heard a scraping sound behind him. He pulled on the goggles and switched them on. They hummed and after a few seconds they flickered into life. He headed towards the source of the sound, his knife poised.

May moved slowly down the tunnel, the crossbow out in front of her. A group of red ants marched purposefully in single file across the floor of the tunnel, out of one tiny hole and into another. She took care not to trample on them as she crossed over their ranks. She squatted down and took a drink from her canteen. A sudden noise made her look back the way she'd come. She grabbed for the crossbow. A bolt was already in place, and she slid her finger over the trigger.

She heard another noise, then the rustle of clothing. She sniffed softly, moving her head back as she inhaled. She could smell a man's sweat.

The tunnel she was in stretched for a hundred and fifty feet behind her. She couldn't risk turning around to get away because she'd have to expose her back. She crouched down. Ahead of her was a thirty-foot length of tunnel, just big enough for her to kneel up in. It met a Tjunction, with larger tunnels running east-west. To the east was a conical air-raid chamber; to the west was a hospital chamber. May had set a booby trap at the entrance to the hospital: a cage containing scorpions, similar to the one she'd placed in the escape tunnel leading from the command centre. Whoever it was would probably continue straight ahead; there was no reason to take the smaller tunnel, the one she was in. She switched off her flashlight, put it on the ground, and waited.

She heard the man move slowly forward, then stop. May frowned in the darkness. She held the crossbow with both hands. There was no glow at the end of the tunnel, no light 364 STEPHEN LEATHER to show that he was approaching. Could he be moving in the dark? She dismissed the thought immediately. It was impossible. Even she wouldn't move through an unexplored section in total darkness: there were too many dangers for the unwary. Although she knew where all the traps were, there were still the snakes and insects to contend with.

Another sound came from the man's direction - a high-pitched whine, like a mosquito. She put her head on one side, focusing her attention on the sound. There was another rustling noise, like a sleeve brushing against the tunnel wall. He was moving again. Still there was no light.

May took her left hand off the crossbow and picked up her flashlight. The crossbow wavered as she pointed the flashlight down the tunnel and switched it on.

She stifled a scream. Crouched at the T-junction was a monster, a huge insect-like creature with glassy eyes and a bulbous head, looking straight at her. It was holding a knife in its hand. May backed away in horror. She didn't believe in ghosts or demons - all the horrors she'd witnessed in her life were the actions of men - but this, this was something that could only have crawled out of hell. It had the body of a man and the head of a giant locust, and whatever it was, it could see in the dark. The creature moved towards her, its mouth parting to reveal human teeth. Its blank eyes stared at her, and she could see her own reflection in its stare. She saw the look of horror on her own face, the scarf around her neck, and the crossbow shaking in her hand. The crossbow. She'd forgotten about the crossbow. She put the flashlight on the ground, its beam highlighting the monstrous creature, and aimed her crossbow with both hands.

As she sighted along the bolt, she realised it wasn't a monster she was facing, but a man, a man wearing a mask. No, not a mask, something else, something that helped him to see in the dark. She aimed at the man's chest and pulled the trigger. The man was already moving and the bolt hit him in the shoulder. He fell back against the tunnel wall. May fumbled for another bolt.

Hammack groaned and lay down on the tunnel floor. 'Doc, I'm beat,' he gasped.

'It's not much further, Bernie,' said Doc.

'Don't kid a kidder,' whispered Hammack. 'We're not even up to the second level yet. I'm bleeding again. And I need water.'

Doc reached over his back and undid the top of his rucksack. He pulled out his medical kit and passed it back to Hammack. 'Take a dressing out and slap it on the wound,' he said. 'And if the pain gets worse, chew on another tablet.'

Hammack reached for the kit with his good arm.

'I'll go ahead and bring the Brit back,' said Doc.

'Then what?'

'He's got water in his backpack. Enough for you, anyway. He had Dennis's map, maybe he can remember where the well was and we can find water.'

'That's a big maybe, Doc'

'I'm going to have to leave you in the dark. You okay with that?'

Hammack nodded. He rolled over on to his back, opened the medical kit and took out a dressing. Doc waited until he'd put it over his wound before crawling away.

Hammack rested his head on the floor and sucked in the warm air. Every breath sent stabbing pains through his chest wound. He put his hand up and placed it on the dressings, using pressure to stem the flow of blood. He shivered. He could feel his body temperature dropping, despite the heat of the tunnel. 'Hurry back, Doc,' he whispered.

Kruse gritted his teeth and pulled out the bolt. He probed the wound with his fingers. It was painful but there didn't appear to be too much damage. He flexed his fingers. The bolt 366 STEPHEN LEATHER seemed to have missed the nerves and the blood flow was far from life threatening. He'd been lucky, if lucky meant reflexes honed almost to perfection by years of training. A woman had been the last thing he'd expected to see down the tunnels, especially a woman dressed in the black pyjamas uniform of a Viet Cong guerrilla. That was what had slowed him down, kept him rooted to the spot while she'd aimed her crossbow. She must have been surprised too, because her aim had been off.

He dropped the bolt on the floor and began crawling again. He had to put as much distance between himself and the woman as he could. She had the advantage of range, so in the long tunnels she'd have the upper hand. To be sure of defeating her he'd have to lie in ambush, wait for her to show herself, using the darkness as a cloak. One of the chambers would be the best bet. He could wait in the dark and the beam of her flashlight would announce her presence. Then he could move in close, with the knife.

Kruse didn't care who the woman was. All he cared about was that he now knew who he was up against. The fact that it was a woman made it a little more interesting, but he gave no thought as to who she was or why she wanted to kill the Tunnel Rats. Jody Meacher could deal with the questions; all Kruse cared about was his mission - to kill everyone who knew the secret that had lain buried in the fourth level for so long.

He moved quickly along the tunnel, through a small resting chamber, not even bothering to consult the map. He ducked into a side tunnel, scampering along on all fours, his knapsack rubbing against the tunnel roof. He stopped suddenly as he heard voices ahead. It was Doc and Hammack, talking in hushed voices.

Kruse crawled forward cautiously. The tunnel he was in merged with another. Doc and Hammack were around the corner. Kruse crept along to the point where the two tunnels intersected, and leaned against the clay wall. He could see along the full length of the tunnel ahead of him, but didn't want to risk looking around to see where the two men were. In the distance he had a back view of Nick Wright about two hundred feet from the intersection. Kruse tightened his grip on his knife. It wouldn't take him long to catch up, then he could plunge his knife into Wright's back without him ever knowing what had happened. He was about to crawl THE TUNNEL RATS 367 after Wright when he heard someone moving along the tunnel. Kruse backed up, his knife out in front of him. It was Doc.

Kruse moved further back down the tunnel to where it zigzagged so that Doc wouldn't be able to see him. He waited until he was sure that Doc had passed the intersection before crawling back into the tunnel. He looked after Doc, only thirty feet away and clearly trying to catch up with Wright. Kruse turned to look at Hammack. The black man was lying on his side, his eyes closed. Kruse decided to go after Doc.

Kruse moved quickly and easily gained on Doc. He raised his knife and slashed at Doc's legs. Doc yelped and Kruse stabbed him in the thigh, using the knife as leverage to pull himself up on Doc's legs. Kruse felt like a cheetah bringing down a running antelope; once it had its claws embedded into the animal's flanks, it was all over.

Doc screamed in pain. Kruse saw Wright twist around in the tunnel, and grinned. He grabbed Doc's hair and pulled back the man's head, waited until he was sure that Wright could see what he was doing, then slashed at Doc's throat so savagely that he almost severed the neck. Blood spurted over the sides of the tunnel and Doc's body went into convulsions.

'You're next!' Kruse shouted at Wright. He crawled over Doc's body but Doc's rucksack blocked his way. There wasn't enough room to get by. Kruse pounded the rucksack, trying to flatten it down. It was no good. Kruse clawed at the straps and yanked the bloodstained rucksack off Doc's back. He passed it through his legs then clambered over Doc's body. Wright had already disappeared around a bend in the tunnel. Kruse sped after him, the smell of blood so strong in his nostrils that it made him giddy.

Hammack heard a soft scraping sound and opened his eyes. He had no way of knowing how long he'd been lying in the tunnel as he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness. A flashlight beam illuminated the ceiling and he twisted his head back to see who was coming.