Stratton stopped banging. ‘I think you’re right,’ he said, searching in vain further along the walls to either side of the door for a manual-override slot to fit the key into.
‘What about the ferries?’ she asked.
‘They’re further on up there,’ he said, pointing in the direction they had been going. ‘But the doors into the dock won’t operate without the OCR even in an emergency. ’
A body lying face down in the water drifted past. Judging by the uniform it was that of a prisoner. It was a chilling illustration of the fate that lay ahead for them.
Stratton thought about his diving set outside the dock by the facility umbilical. But even if there was a chance of getting to it, which he could not see, there was only one set and he would have to abandon Christine. It didn’t look like an option either way.
‘Do we have any choices left?’ she asked.
‘Only thing I can think of is to find somewhere we can breathe.’
‘You think they’ll send a search team in here within the next six months, if ever?’
‘It’s possible,’ he said, not believing it.
‘OK, so let’s go find somewhere we can stay warm, get three squares a day and breathe for the next six months,’ she said sardonically.‘That wasn’t aimed at you, by the way. This is all my fault. I held you up.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I did and you know it. I’m a pig-headed bitch.’
‘Listen. If you’re going to be my best friend for the rest of my life you’d better stop whingeing.’
Christine looked into Stratton’s eyes, unable to suppress a slight smile. Then something caught her eye as it floated towards her and she plucked it out of the water. It was a ration pack. ‘We have dinner at least.’
‘What is it?’
She held it closer to the light to read the label. ‘Chicken supreme.’
‘That’s very good, you know.’
She appreciated his humour in the face of such adversity.
‘I know where there’s an air-storage chamber,’ Stratton said. ‘Might even be some electricity.’
‘What are we waiting for?’
‘Hold on to me. Let’s stay together.’
‘For the rest of my life,’ she said as she grabbed hold of his arm and he let go of the door bracket.
They shot down the tunnel, fending themselves off the sides. They soon reached the metal gantry, spilling out of the tunnel onto it as the water plummeted to the lower levels. Stratton got to his feet and they hurried to the stairs and down them. They crossed to another flight of steps, scurried down them to a broad tunnel that was waist-deep in water that was not flowing as fast as in the previous one and headed past a sign directing them towards the hospital. Stratton was encouraged by the shallower water that suggested, for the time being at least, that the prison was not necessarily filling from the bottom up.
They reached the narrower access tunnel that led down to level five and the mine to find the water cascading down it more vigorously than before.
‘We’re heading down?’ Christine asked.
Stratton nodded.‘Let’s hope this one hasn’t filled yet.’
He entered the tunnel and, holding firmly on to the side, made his way down the slope. Christine was close behind him in the near-darkness.
They reached the open pressure door with ‘5’ stencilled on it and continued down the increasingly steep incline. The water became deeper as they descended and was chest high by the time they arrived at the larger corridor that led towards the scrubber room and the mine.
‘This is good. I was worried this tunnel would be completely filled by now.’
‘Yeah, this is really good news,’ Christine said, feeling very cold and unable to hold back her cynicism.
They passed the battered bodies of the guard and prisoners who had been washed down the tunnel when the level five pressure door had burst open.The corpses were floating together in a recess.
Stratton arrived at the entrance to the scrubber and pump room where the engines were now silent, and climbed in through the doorway. The hissing had been replaced by a forced bubbling sound as the water only just lapped over the valve on the stack of huge air bottles that Hamlin had opened.
‘This the place?’ Christine asked as she moved inside.
‘All the air you can breathe.’
‘If there was a search team, you think they’d come this far down?’
‘Sure. Might even be a priority. Probably more chance of surviving longer here than anywhere else.’
‘I never tire of your optimism,’ she said, looking behind the door and suddenly jumping back, startled. ‘Jesus Christ!’
Gann was standing against the wall, his right arm gone at the shoulder, his face seriously charred. The flesh was practically burned away, exposing his teeth and cheekbone. One of his eyes was gone. He appeared to be dead at first but then he moved his head stiffly to face them, his one eye minus its eyelid moving in its socket. When he recognised Stratton he took a step forward, reaching out to him with his remaining hand. But he was so weak that he could barely stand.
Stratton stood his ground as Gann forced himself to take another painful step. He moved close enough to grab feebly at the front of Stratton’s jacket with his charred fingers. He tried to say something, but his lips were gone and his throat was so horribly burned that he was unable to form a word. His knees suddenly gave way and he dropped face down into the water where he stayed.
‘Was that Gann?’ Christine asked.
‘Yes,’ Stratton said, turning away and wading over to the rack of gas cylinders. He reached into the water for the bubbling valve and turned it off.
‘The lights are brighter in here,’ she noted.
‘I think there’s a power line into here directly from the barge. What are your electrical skills like?’
‘I can change a fuse, a spark plug.’
‘Pity.’
‘Why?’
‘If we can find a power link to the barge we might be able to turn it on and off. Make a signal of some kind.’
‘I like it.’
‘The water will eventually stop rising - that’s if there’s nowhere for the air to escape in the roof. We put the air valve on trickle flow and . . . you know. Wait.’
Stratton climbed the rack to get out of the water.
Christine climbed up beside him. ‘Hey, we’re alive and breathing and in a while we’ll be dry. That’s way ahead of where I thought we’d be when we were outside the escape room.’
‘I’m sorry it’s not any better.’ He was disappointed that he had been unable to get them out.
She put her hand on his and squeezed it. ‘My name’s Christine, by the way.’
‘John,’ he said.
‘Where are you from? I guess we have no more need for secrets.’
‘I’m a Brit.’
‘I figured out that much.’
‘I’m from a town in the south of England. Poole. Don’t suppose you’ve even heard of it.’
She shook her head apologetically. ‘England’s on my list of must-see places . . . I’m curious as hell about you. Who do you work for? If you don’t want to tell me I’ll put it down to you being optimistic about us surviving and I’d probably be happier that way.’
‘British military intelligence,’ Stratton said.
She was surprised to find his timing and apparent lack of optimism amusing.
‘We lost something in Afghanistan.The Taliban found it and it ended up in here.’
‘Why didn’t you just ask us? I thought we were the great alliance.’
‘I understand it would’ve been embarrassing for our side if you guys found out what it was.’
‘Oh.’ Christine nodded. ‘Bummer, you dying just to save someone an embarrassment.’
Stratton had to concede that one. ‘What are you dying for?’