Ah, pleasant death.
Yes.
With no true oblivion.
No.
Then where are you going?
I... don't know. They're help...
Do you want to be helped? Is that what you really want? More torture? Would you welcome insanity, would you enjoy it?
I...
Would you?
Leave me alone!
But I am you, how can I leave you?
'LEAVE ME ALONE!'
'It's okay, Bryce, we've got you. There's another way out of the shelter. We can make it.'
He stared into the face of Farraday, barely recognizing the senior engineer. He tried to speak but did not know what to say.
'It's all right,' Farraday told him. 'Just try to help us, try to walk.'
He did as he was asked, closing out the distant inner voice that was no longer soothing but angry, telling him what a fool he was being.
'I don't want to die.'
'Save your breath, man.' Farraday's own breath came in short, sharp groans, the effort beginning to tell on him. We can't hear you, so don't try to speak. Conserve your energy.'
Through the open doorway, the light seemed less bright and Farraday supposed the power was fluctuating again until he noticed and smelled the rolling smoke. Thomas was standing just outside the doorway, gaping down the corridor, his damp face a mask of dread, unsteady as water surged around his chest.
By the time they themselves reached the door, Thomas was rapidly heading for the switching units, seeming to swim and wade at the same time. Farraday peered towards the source of Thomas's obvious distress, the thick billowing smoke stinging his eyes, forcing him to squint. He just had time to observe flames licking from the test room area when the complex rocked with thunder and searing white light rushed towards him, melting the protective film over his eyes, stripping the skin from his face. He fell back, carried by the blast, and water smothered his flaming hair, steam rising in a brief cloud from his burnt face. He shrieked and black water eagerly raced in, reducing the sound to a bubbling gurgle.
The others had fared no better and, to Bryce, it was just the continuation of the long nightmare. He had been partly protected by the senior engineer who stood directly in front of him and who had taken the full brunt of the explosion. Farraday's weight had been thrown against him, forcing him down, away from the flames, extinguishing the burning bandages on his mutilated hand, instantly soothing the scorching white heat that had exposed all the nerves on one side of his face, vaporizing the fire that had gristled his right ear. The water welcomed him back.
The tidal wave that followed, tightly packed into the narrow corridor, picked up all four of the burnt survivors and hurtled them along in a boiling stream, catching Thomas as it went, scraping their bodies along the walls, smashing into the machinery that finally blocked the tidal wave's path.
His neck was broken and other bones had snapped, yet Bryce could hear the voice again, homing in from a distance, soon drawing near.
Are you ready now? it asked, just a little sulkily.
He could feel himself spinning, another bone crunching somewhere in his arm as it hit something solid, and although he turned and twisted, he was not giddy, nor confused.
Have you had enough?
Oh yes.
Then breathe in the water.
I have. I'm filled with it.
A sigh. Well, not much longer.
I can still sense.
Yes, but you can't feel.
No, everything's numb.
Pleasant?
Very.
/ told you. Any fear?
A little.
It'll pass. Very soon.
Where am I going?
You'll see.
Is it nice?
No answer.
Is it nice?
Ifs different. Nice doesn't matter.
I trust you.
No answer, but this time an answer wasn't necessary.
Bryce followed the voice that no longer spoke, drifting lazily after the sound-shadow into a strange, deep void, a total absence that was all, to find that it was true: Nice did not matter. Nice didn't matter at all.
Their bodies were churned and broken as they found their own, separate deaths, each one different, individual.
Water gushed through the complex, and the fire followed at a slower, yet no less lethal pace.
Culver searched for Kate, the red glow emanating from the fire in another part of the complex his only source of light. A huge wave had just passed over them, tossing their bodies like corks on an ocean, but now the level had settled to its former roughness once again. Smoke descended as if to join forces with the floodwater in absolute destruction. He glimpsed Dealey braced against the wall, his face red but eyes white. The black engineer, Jackson, was next to him, the others gone, presumably swept back along the corridor their human chain had straddled.
'Kate!' Culver cried, afraid for her. She emerged from the dark water a few feet away from him, sweeping her head to one side to free her face and hair from the wetness. She sucked in air and immediately began to cough as acrid smoke rushed in. He plunged towards her, a hand encircling her waist, and pulled her back against the wall for support. He held her steady until the coughing had subsided, relieved that the smoke had begun to drift upwards, no longer disturbed by other forces. It was a brief respite, for he knew that the shelter would soon fill with the choking fumes, just as it might soon fill completely with floodwater.
There seemed to be hardly any energy left in Kate as she slumped against him. Her forehead nuzzled against his cheek, and she said, 'It's no use, is it, Steve? We haven't a chance.'
He was tempted to drag her over to the catwalk and climb up, to lie there and pray that the flames and smoke would die away, that the floodwater would gradually subside. That the mutant vermin would choose to ignore them.
We've got one last shot,' he told her, 'and we're going to take it.'
The shaft was their only chance.
A small ray of hope came literally from Fairbank, who shone the flashlight at them from the Operations Room doorway.
Tm coming over!' he shouted, his voice barely audible over the confusion of sounds.
Wait a minute!' Culver called back. There's a bad pull there; we'll help you across!'
'Okay! I've got a lamp as well as a waterproof flashlight. I'm going to toss it over.'
He switched on the second light and reached across the corridor as far as he could without getting caught in the treacherous currents. Culver had moved closer on the other side of the opening and caught the lamp deftly as Fairbank gently lobbed it over. He passed it back to Dealey.
'Keep it on us! Jackson, grab my arm and don't let go!'
Once he felt his upper arm gripped, Culver moved away from the relative protection of the wall. The current tugged at his legs immediately and he leaned into it, his other arm stretched towards Fairbank.
The engineer, clutching the rubber-insulated flashlight and something else in his left hand, reached out to Culver with his right. He had to make his own way for at least a foot, then their fingers curled around each other's wrists and Culver pulled as Jackson drew him in.
They caught their breath on the other side and eventually Fairbank gasped, This bloody water's getting higher.'
Culver felt the choppy surface just below his armpits. We haven't got much long—'
A scream from Kate and they turned to see the dark shapes streaming towards her lit clearly by the lamp Dealey held. There were three of them, yellow eyes just above the waterline, perhaps sensing the most vulnerable in the group, the easy prey.
Fairbank's speed was remarkable. He leapt forward, the water barely slowing his movement, torch in his left hand, the other object now transferred to his right, raised high. He brought the blade down hard and swift, decapitating the leading rat, pulling the weapon clear and striking again, catching the second rat across its back, severing the spine.