by Kay Woodward
‘Cutter!’ cried Stephen, as the beast changed direction and blocked the professor’s escape route.
‘I’m OK!’ shouted Cutter. ‘Go! I’m right behind you!’
Reluctantly, Stephen went, dragging Abby with him.
But Cutter was trapped. Behind him was a wall and in front of him was the biggest centipede he’d ever clapped eyes on. As he raised his arm to brush one of the smaller spiders – only the size of an octopus – from his arm, the radio slid from his grasp. Instantly, the magnetic pull of the quivering anomaly sucked it across the room – and into another dimension. Things weren’t going well.
Meanwhile, the centipede was moving closer, ever closer. The professor watched it approach, leaving it as late as he dared to make his move. Then, when he could feel the monster’s rancid breath on his forehead, he hurled the torch into its face. Stunned by the attack, it retreated for a split second. This was all the time Cutter needed to leap through the other door – and into a dead-end tunnel.
He braced himself against the door, breathing heavily, sweat trickling down his face. Thump! The door shuddered as the creature flung its weight against it – but it held.
Cutter ripped off his mask and threw it to one side. By the dim light of the tiny torch on his key ring, he scanned his surroundings. He couldn’t see anything clearly, although he seemed to be in some sort of tunnel. A second later, he heard the shuffling of footsteps.
‘Who’s there?’ he called, feeling uneasy. He saw a faint outline just metres away and raised his torch – by its feeble light, he saw a ghostly shape flitting away. It was a woman’s shape…
‘Helen?’ he said. ‘Helen!’
The street was hectic with activity.
In a quiet corner, Abby, Stephen and Claudia pored over a map of the Underground.
‘All I’m getting is interference!’ snapped Claudia, impatiently throwing her radio receiver away. She frowned at the map. ‘There’s no other way out. The tunnel was blocked up thirty years ago.’
‘Then why isn’t he back yet?’ said Abby.
Stephen looked stricken with guilt. ‘I should never have left him,’ he said. ‘He must be trapped. I’m going back in.’
Claudia shook her head. ‘No one’s going anywhere until we know what we’re dealing with.’
‘He could be injured –’ protested Stephen.
The woman from the Home Office interrupted him. ‘I don’t want to leave him down there any more than you do. But I’m not losing anyone else on a wild goose chase. We don’t even know for sure where he is.’
Stephen couldn’t argue with this.
‘Did he say what kind of creature it was?’ Claudia continued.
He shook his head. ‘Some kind of centipede…’
‘But huge,’ added Abby. ‘Five metres, at least.’
‘I need more,’ said Claudia. ‘Preferred habitat, behaviour patterns, strengths and weaknesses…’
‘We don’t know,’ replied Abby helplessly. ‘No one does.’
For the first time in hours, Stephen’s face creased into a wide smile. ‘Connor might.’
As soon as Claudia hurried away to trace Connor, Stephen made his move.
‘I’m not leaving Cutter in there a minute longer than I have to,’ he whispered urgently to Abby.
‘You can’t go back down without backup,’ she replied, fear showing in her eyes.
‘Watch me.’
For a second, it seemed as if Abby might try to stop Stephen. But instead, she simply hugged him tightly.
Then – pausing only to grab a discarded radio receiver – he ran back into the ancient Underground system, almost tumbling down the dusty staircase in his hurry to reach his boss.
Suddenly realizing that he carried no weapon, he wrenched open the doors he passed, eventually finding a storeroom filled with cleaning supplies. A plastic container with a metal nozzle was the best he could find. Shrugging, he took it with him.
It didn’t take long to reach the room where he’d last seen the professor. Now it was eerily still.
‘Cutter?’ whispered Stephen.
He moved inside cautiously, stopping as he spotted the turpentine. Quickly, he emptied a couple of bottles into his container, all the time checking carefully for any sign of movement. Then he ventured further into the room, expecting to hear or see the beast with every step he took. But all was quiet, although the door at the far end of the room was now dented and twisted. Had the monster gone?
He twisted the handle and gently pushed the battered door open, his torchlight showing a corridor stretching away into darkness. Hearing a noise behind him, he spun round –
Wham!
With a powerful blow, the centipede smashed into the torch, knocking it from his grasp. Stephen fought back at once, aiming the spray bottle at the creature and squirting turpentine into its hideous face. It shied away violently, an unearthly rattling emerging from its body as it vanished behind a heap of boxes. Shocked by the creature’s attack, Stephen loosened his grip on the bottle of turpentine.
Whoosh!
He’d forgotten about the anomaly. Its magnetic pull had attracted the metal nozzle and yanked the whole spray bottle towards the patch of quivering, sparkling air. As if sensing that Stephen was unarmed, the centipede moved with incredible speed, clamping on tightly with its many legs, while sinking its pincers into his shoulder. Despite the excruciating pain, Stephen fought to escape the deadly embrace, lashing out repeatedly until finally it released him and dropped to the floor, slithering away into the darkness.
Stephen grasped his injured shoulder – it felt wet and sticky. Blood. Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over him and his legs gave way. He tried to haul himself up, but his arms had no strength either.
‘Stephen? Are you OK?’
Abby’s voice crackled through the radio receiver. But it was hopelessly out of reach of his scrabbling fingers. Within seconds, they too ceased to function as the creeping paralysis overcame his entire body. Stephen struggled to keep panic at bay.
He sensed rather than saw the anomaly move. Footsteps sounded. And hope flared in Stephen – someone had come to rescue him!
‘Over here!’ he croaked.
No reply.
‘Why don’t you say something?’ he pleaded, unable to look round.
Finally, the silent figure walked into Stephen’s line of vision. His eyes widened in amazement and he whispered a single, incredulous word through cracked and drying lips.
‘Helen?’
When Cutter made his way back along the tunnel, he saw that the door was now open. He paused at the entrance to the bunker, scanning the darkened room for any sign of the centipede. Nothing. Cautiously, he walked forward and spotted Stephen’s torch lying on the floor, its beam pointing towards the softly glittering anomaly. He heard a groan and spun round to see Stephen propped up against a pile of old boxes, his body shaking.
Cutter rushed over to him. ‘What happened?’ he gasped.
‘Argument with a big bug,’ murmured Stephen, with a faint smile. ‘Bug won.’
Swiftly, Cutter pulled back the bloodsoaked cloth of his shirt to reveal a gaping wound. ‘Let’s get you out of here,’ he said.
But the younger man had something to tell him first. ‘Helen’s alive,’ he slurred. ‘She was here. She gave me a message… She’s waiting on the other side of the anomaly. She said that if you want to know the truth, you’ll have to come to find her.’
Not even the sobering news that Cutter and Stephen were missing underground could dampen Connor’s enthusiasm. He’d been given a second chance. And he wasn’t going to mess it up this time.
‘Carboniferous… probably an Arthropleurid…’ He nodded, absorbing the information he’d been given while simultaneously whizzing through his database. ‘Centipede on steroids, basically,’ he announced. ‘More or less blind, good sense of smell and touch… prefers the dark, obviously… big and scary-looking, but actually quite timid. The kind of bug that sticks to
the kitchen at parties.’
Claudia peered over his shoulder at the laptop screen. ‘This one must have a personality disorder,’ she said. ‘How dangerous is it?’
‘According to the textbooks,’ Connor replied importantly, ‘it would have eaten dead wood and leaves.’
‘So it’s not poisonous?’
‘No way.’
At that moment, there was a sudden flurry of activity by the tube station as Cutter emerged, dragging Stephen with him.
‘He’s been bitten by the Arthropleurid,’ the professor said hurriedly. ‘Identical wound and same symptoms as the pest controller. We have to do something before the poison destroys his central nervous system.’
Connor stared at him, aghast. ‘Poison?’
‘The spiders are off the hook,’ replied Cutter. ‘It’s the centipede that’s the killer.’
Claudia gave Connor a scathing look. ‘How did we ever manage without you?’ she said, her words laced with sarcasm.
‘I was only speculating…’ mumbled Connor, crestfallen.
But no one was paying him any attention now. All eyes were on Stephen, who lay on a stretcher, with anxious paramedics in attendance. ‘Tell them,’ he muttered suddenly. ‘Tell them about Helen.’
Claudia looked at Cutter in surprise, but he feigned ignorance. ‘What’s he talking about?’ she demanded.
‘I… don’t know,’ lied Cutter. ‘He must be hallucinating.’
‘He seems quite lucid to me,’ said Claudia, giving the professor a searching look.
Cutter ignored her, turning his attention to Stephen instead. The paramedics had completed their checks and had opened the waiting ambulance’s doors, ready to whisk him inside.
Abby rushed over to grab the patient’s hand.
‘You know, you’re really beautiful,’ Stephen sighed.
She grinned, even though she felt like crying. ‘You’re delirious,’ she replied.
‘Have dinner with me.’
‘We’ll talk about it when you’re better.’
‘Can’t wait that long.’
Abby bent close and whispered in his ear. ‘Yes, I will.’
‘Result,’ murmured Stephen, his eyelids closing as the paramedics wheeled him inside the ambulance. ‘Amazing how much easier this stuff is when you’re dying.’
Abby clambered into the vehicle with him. ‘You’re not dying,’ she insisted, as the tears finally threatened to fall.
But they both knew that he was.
‘Who did this to him?’ demanded Dr Lewis.
‘It’s… hard to explain,’ mumbled Abby. A giant centipede? Yeah, right. Like anyone would believe that.
‘If we don’t find out exactly what bit him,’ the doctor said ominously, ‘he’ll die.’
Abby swallowed hard. ‘It was a centipede.’ Without waiting for the doctor to disagree, she added fiercely, ‘Look, we can stand here arguing about how impossible that is, or you can just take my word for it. Please?’
There was a moment’s silence. When the doctor’s reply came, it was calm and rational. ‘There are no obvious treatments,’ she said. ‘People just don’t die of centipede bites. But if we can get hold of a good sample of the venom, we might be able to find an antivenin that matches it.’
‘Will that make him better?’ asked Abby anxiously. She’d only known him for a few days, but suddenly it was very important that Stephen survived.
‘Antivenins are a last resort, toxic in their own right,’ explained Dr Lewis. ‘The survival rate can be as low as 50 per cent. But without it, his chances are nil.’
Abby stared wild-eyed at the doctor. ‘Just keep him alive,’ she said. ‘Please.’
Abby dodged her way in and out of London’s busy traffic to arrive back at the tube station just minutes later. Cutter, Claudia and a barely repentant Connor listened to her breathless update with worried expressions.
‘Can’t they run more tests?’ asked Claudia. ‘Find a match for the venom somehow?’
‘It would take too long,’ replied Abby quickly. ‘Stephen’s dying right now.’
Cutter had been thinking deeply and now he spoke up. ‘There’s only one way to short cut the process. We have to collect a pure sample of venom from the creature that bit him.’
‘How the hell do we do that?’ asked Claudia. ‘Ask it to fill a specimen jar?’
‘In a way…’ Cutter said mysteriously.
Connor twigged what he meant at once. ‘Oh, come on…’ he said.
‘It’s the only option,’ said the professor.
Claudia’s confused gaze switched back and forth between the professor and his student. Were they deliberately trying to confuse her? ‘What is?’ she asked. ‘Someone talk to me!’
But Cutter ignored her, grabbed a radio and spoke into that instead. ‘Ryan?’ he barked. ‘Ryan, are you there?’
‘Ryan?’ said the crackly voice. ‘Ryan, are you there?’
The soldier watched the last of the mutant spiders scuttle away into the anomaly and unhooked the radio from his belt. ‘The first zone’s clear,’ he said. Using brushes, nets and enough floodlights to illuminate Wembley Stadium, they’d obliterated all evidence of the ghastly infestation from the underground corridor. Now for the next stage of their mission. ‘We’re moving into the bunker,’ he said.
‘Have you seen the centipede?’ asked Cutter.
‘No trace of it yet.’
The reply was unambiguous. ‘On no account let it return through the anomaly,’ said Cutter. ‘Repeat, do not let it go.’
Cutter tucked the radio receiver in his pocket. ‘Find me something to do the job!’ he shouted to Connor.
Obediently, Connor rushed away.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Claudia in utter bewilderment.
Cutter grinned. ‘Invite a very angry centipede to bite me.’
In the wartime bunker, the dark, forbidding shadows were now replaced by bright, welcoming light. Ryan and his team were waiting by the flickering anomaly when Cutter and the others arrived.
‘The corridor’s clear,’ said the soldier. ‘And the centipede hasn’t gone through the anomaly on my watch. There’s nowhere else for it to go. Either it was in here or it’s still out there.’ He pointed to the battered door.
With a curt nod, Cutter strode across the bunker, his boots echoing on the concrete floor. Taking out a powerful torch, he raised it high, then flung the door open and led the charge into the tunnel, the SAS pouring in after him.
It was empty.
Cutter turned back to stare at Claudia, his eyes filled with torment. ‘It’s gone back,’ he said. ‘We’ve lost it.’
This was bad news. The hopeful atmosphere was replaced by a sense of gloom. Without the Arthropleura and its venom, Stephen was doomed.
‘If Stephen hadn’t come back for me, he wouldn’t have been hurt,’ Cutter groaned, staring into the black heart of the anomaly.
Claudia tried in vain to make him feel better. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she said softly, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
The sound of running footsteps announced a new arrival and Connor came hurtling into the bunker, his eyes blazing with triumph. Immediately, he started manically pushing boxes out of the way, trying to get at the walls.
‘Help me!’ he cried to the stunned onlookers. When no one moved, he tried again. ‘I’d forgotten! Arthropleurids were supposed to be burrowers. Look for a hole, anywhere the floor’s rotted away.’
It took a split second for the words to sink in, then everyone joined him, shifting boxes and assorted rubbish with the same ferocious energy. At first, it seemed that they were getting nowhere, but suddenly Connor whooped with delight.
‘Yes!’ he crowed. ‘I was right – it’s still here!’
Claudia couldn’t help smiling at his excitement. When the student looked at her for approval, she nodded at once. ‘Good work,’ she said.
In a flash, Cutter was sprawled commando-style on the floor, shining his torch i
nto the hole. ‘How long could the tunnel be?’ he asked.
‘For a creature that size?’ Connor thought for a moment. ‘Fifty feet, maybe?’
‘Fine,’ said Cutter. ‘I’m going in.’
‘That’s crazy…’ gasped Claudia.
Cutter shrugged, as if he had no choice. ‘There’s no better way of finding out where it’s gone,’ he said.
‘I’m coming too,’ said Connor quickly, eager to make amends for his stupid behaviour earlier.
The professor nodded. Then he calmly helped himself to three bottles of turpentine from the pile nearby, throwing one to Ryan and another to Connor. The third he upended over himself. ‘Put that on your clothes,’ he told the others. ‘Centipedes hate it.’
The narrow passage was damp, dark and very cold. Whenever they brushed against the sides, they crumbled, coating the intrepid monster hunters with wet soil. As they crawled onwards, the bones of previous victims crunched beneath their knees. For Connor, who really didn’t like small spaces, the end couldn’t come soon enough and he breathed a huge sigh of relief as they emerged into a cavernous space.
They were in an electricity substation, part of the complex workings of the Underground system. A metal staircase led up to high walkways, several metres above them. No other tunnels led from the room, which could mean only one thing… The centipede was here.
Ryan shone his torch up the stairs. ‘Could it really have climbed up there?’ he said wonderingly.
‘Let’s find out,’ said Cutter, heading for the staircase. Ryan tried to muscle in and lead the way, but the professor shook his head. ‘It has to be me it gets to first,’ he said firmly.
Reluctantly, the soldier nodded and let him go first.
Connor hung back. He was in no hurry to climb the stairs. ‘Claustrophobia and vertigo on the same day,’ he groaned, looking up at the flimsy metal structure. ‘Fabulous.’
Slowly, carefully, his eyes flicking to and fro for any glimpse of the monstrous creature, Cutter began his ascent. Ryan and Connor followed. The air was thick with dust and the only sound was that of their footsteps echoing on the metal steps. Above all, there was the nerve-jangling fear that the Arthropleura might dart out from the shadows at any moment. Every shadowy gap in the wall looked sinister…
