Lair

by James Herbert

  He turned to see the black shapes darting beneath the two-strand wire fence that bordered the field, their bristling bodies momentarily lost in the undergrowth, then bursting forth, racing across the widened track that formed the frontage to the ruin. He stooped and picked up a brick, throwing it at the leading rodent, which swerved to avoid the missile.

  Then it seemed as though every square foot of the frontage area was covered in black bodies, the air filled with their high-pitched squeals. Pender began using his boot on the metal barrier just as the first rat reached the bottom of the slope.

  Whittaker saw the creature and managed to lift a fair-sized portion of brickwork from the rubble, hurling it down at the rat as it began climbing. The rat was crushed, killed instantly, but its companions were now at the base of the rough slope.

  The corrugated sheet began to give and Pender redoubled his efforts. It came away from the top with a grinding tear and he squeezed an arm through, creating a triangular gap big enough to allow them entry.

  ‘Get inside!’ he yelled at Whittaker, pulling him roughly. The tutor complied without hesitation, squeezing his frame through the gap, grunting with the effort. Pender turned in time to give a rat that was only inches away a hefty kick, sending it hurtling back down to its companions. He wasted no time in pushing his way into the building's interior, gasping in pain as he felt strong teeth bite into his calf, one leg still on the other side of the barrier.

  Whittaker was already pushing at the metal sheet, trying to close the gap in an effort to keep the attacking vermin out.

  Pender dragged his leg through, the rat still clinging to it. He pushed his foot down towards the floor once it was inside, the rat's shoulders becoming trapped at the narrow end of the triangle between wall and metal sheet. Whittaker had managed to close the gap at the top and was pressing against it with his shoulder. Pender forced his leg down even further, the edge of the metal sheet pressing into the rat's neck, choking it. The suit material tore under the strain and suddenly Pender's leg was free. He turned and brought his boot crunching down on the rodent's skull, forcing its neck further into the wedge shape. It struggled to pull back, the metal edge now cutting into its throat and Pender, in a furious, hate filled madness, rained kicks upon the trembling head. At last the eyes became glazed and the head slumped, but Pender could not be sure it was really dead.

  He could see other mutants through the small opening left above the rat's body, climbing on its back trying to push their way through, and he joined Whittaker, his back pushing against the corrugated iron. They could hear the vermin leaping at the barricade, their claws scrabbling at the surface. They winced at every thud, the metal shaking with each blow.

  Pender looked around the interior of the ruin, seeking a means of escape. Many of the inside walls had caved in and he could see through to the rear of the building, the windows there also covered in metal sheets. He wondered what chance they would have if they made a break for it and tried to get out the back way, but realised that by the time they had forced an opening, the vermin would be through on this side and swarming all over them. He looked upwards to see if there was a way to reach the upper levels. The blueness of the peaceful sky seemed to mock him, for there were no floors above; the upper levels had been completely gutted. Even the staircases had gone.

  There was one way of getting above ground level, though. It was dangerous, but their only chance. And what he saw next told him there was no choice anyway.

  Not far from where they stood, through the half-collapsed wall to the hallway, he could see a black body perched on top of a metal barrier. It was the section blocking the main entrance, a curved gap left between the doorway arc and the corrugated iron barrier. The rat waved its pointed head in the air, its nose twitching.

  ‘It's no good,’ Pender cried out. They've found another way in!’

  Whittaker followed his gaze and drew in his breath. Pender nudged him and pointed to a jagged rise of brickwork, the remains of a wall which had once divided that room from the next.

  ‘If we can get up there, we may have a chance!’ he yelled over the clamour of squealing rats and thudding sounds.

  ‘There's just a small corner section of flooring up there. If we can get to it we may be able to hold them off until help comes!’

  ‘Help? What help?’ came the frantic reply.

  ‘They know our location at the Centre. They'll send someone out when we don't return.’

  ‘But that will be bloody hours, man! We'll never last that long!’

  ‘It's all we have! So move. Get up there!’

  Pender could see the gap above the door was now empty; the rat had dropped down, was among the debris. Two more shadows appeared in the opening, then these, too, disappeared from view.

  ‘They're in here, Whittaker! Climb up or, by Christ, I'll leave you to hold the barrier!’

  Whittaker ran across the rotted floor, avoiding a large hole near its centre, leaping over debris, a trail of blood streaming from his injured hand. He began to climb, brickwork crumbling away under his touch as he pulled himself upwards, using hands, feet, knees. The broken wall was irregular in shape, sometimes steep, sometimes a more manageable slope. Pender gave him a chance to reach a good height, knowing the tutor would only block his own path if he broke too soon. The appearance of three rats scurrying around the wreckage of the next room made him decide it was now or never. He sprang away from the barricade and sprinted towards the makeshift stairway to the upper level, hearing the sound of tearing metal behind, knowing the rats were pouring through.

  He leapt over the gaping, black hole in the centre of the floor and when he landed on the other side, the rotted boards cracked and gave under his foot. His impetus carried him forward and he was fortunate not to fall into the cellar below. He scrambled to his feet and ran on, praying he wouldn't trip on all the loose rubble. The mutants in the next room were scurrying towards him, leaping over obstacles in their way, skirling round the larger objects. Behind him the rats were swarming through the ever-widening gap in the metal barrier.

  He reached the foot of the broken brick wall a second or two before the lead rat approaching from the opposite direction, and leapt onto the first easy step, immediately moving upwards, pulling away loose bricks as he went, blindly throwing them down in the hope they would deter the vermin from following.

  The lead rat went with him, scurrying up his back, making for his exposed neck. Pender twisted his body, almost falling from the precarious perch, bringing his elbow around sharply to hit the rat's side. The mutant had no firm grip on Pender's clothing and the blow sent it tumbling down into the rubble again.

  Pender climbed and when he looked up saw that the tutor had reached the next floor level. He was sitting astride an even outcrop of wall, a large chunk of masonry held above his head, ready to be thrown down. He was staring at Pender and their eyes locked.

  For one dreadful moment, Pender thought the tutor was about to hurl the brickwork down into his face, his jealousy over Jenny erupting into violence. His fears were unfounded; Whittaker's arms heaved forward and the heavy weight sailed over Pender's head to land squarely on the back of a climbing rat. Within seconds he was beneath the tutor's feet.

  He turned to look down at the swarming rats and kicked one away from his heels. It slid back, then fell, taking a companion with it. Pender was relieved to see only one rat at a time could advance up the incline, and its steepness in parts made their ascent difficult. The floor below seemed alive with the creatures, those at the base of the wall on their haunches, stretching their bodies upwards, leaping and tumbling back when their claws could not gain purchase. The sounds of their strident screeching echoed around the immense, stone cavern, rebounding off the walls, magnifying the noise. He saw others had found another source of entry near the back of the house and were filing through, joining the throng on the floor below. It seemed they were no strangers to the deserted ruin.

  He was thankful that the ceilings of the o
ld house had been high, for the further away he was from those slashing teeth and claws, the safer he felt.

  ‘Where have they come from, Pender?’ Whittaker yelled down at him. They should be dead!’

  ‘It looks like they weren't all in the sewers,’ Pender replied, aiming a swift kick at the twitching snout of an advancing rat.

  ‘Get onto that ledge over there. There should be room enough for both of us.’

  The tutor eased himself up slowly then stepped over to the outcrop, the corner remains of the first-floor level. He tested its strength before resting all his weight on it and when satisfied left his crumbling perch completely. Pender scooted up after him.

  ‘Will it hold us both?’ he asked before stepping across.

  ‘I think so. It seems strong enough,’ came the reply.

  There wasn't much room on the small platform and both men clung to the wall it jutted from for support.

  ‘I can reach any rat that gets to the top of the wall with my boot from here,’ Pender said. They'll find it difficult to get over that last stretch anyway; it leans out at an angle.’

  As if to prove his claim, a rat tried to scramble over the projection, easy enough for a man to do, but difficult for a smaller animal. Some of the brickwork crumbled and the rat went crashing down to the floor below. It rolled over and came to its feet again, shaking its body as if stunned.

  ‘We should be safe here,’ Pender said.

  ‘For how long? What happens when it gets dark?’

  ‘The Centre will send out a search party before then. Well be okay.’ Pender wished he could put some confidence behind the statement. ‘How's your hand?’ he enquired to change the subject.

  Whittaker brought the injured hand away from the wall and Pender frowned when he saw the deep rent above the knuckles.

  ‘I still can't move it! God, it hurts!’

  Pender's worry was that the tutor might faint with the pain. A fall into the vermin below would be fatal.

  ‘Try to hang on,’ he said, feeling helpless. They know where we are; they'll get us out.’

  He eased his body round on the platform so his back was against the wall, giving him a better all-round view.

  ‘How many of them down there, Pender?’ said Whittaker, his teeth clenched against the pain.

  ‘Maybe a couple of hundred. They've stopped coming in now; I don't think there are any more.’

  ‘That's enough to kill us, isn't it?’ There was a note of hysteria in Whittaker's voice.

  ‘Just keep calm and we'll be all right They can't reach us here.’

  But he was wrong. Even as he spoke, some of the black vermin were breaking away from the mass and climbing sections of other broken walls. Pender watched in horror, guessing their intention. If they climbed well enough, they could reach the next level above their precarious perch, then skim down the wall on that side to reach them. With astonishment, he noticed one of the climbing rats had a white marking on its pointed head; could it be the same rat he'd seen in the forest two weeks before among the group that had attacked his search party?

  Perhaps that was the reason these were still alive: they hadn't returned to the sewers, they had fled into the forest instead.

  ‘Vic,’ he said, trying to keep his voice calm. They're coming up the walls around us.’ He felt the tutor's body stop trembling, as though shocked rigid. You'll have to turn around. We may be able to dislodge them before they get above us by throwing whatever we can break off the walls.’

  ‘Can't we climb up further?’ Whittaker said, closing his eyes and pressing his face against the rough brickwork.

  ‘No, the broken wall we came up runs out just above my head. The rest is smooth to the top. Come on, turn, it's our only chance.’

  Whittaker numbly did as he was told, his body beginning to shake again when he looked down at the bristling bodies below and the creeping black shapes on the walls around them. Some of the flooring beneath his feet crumbled and he cried out as he pressed himself back into the wall. The falling remnants of flooring seemed to excite the vermin even more and their squealing took on a new pitch.

  Pender pulled a brick free from the wall they had climbed and aimed it at the lead rat, the one with the scar, which was patiently working its way up the opposite corner section of the same wall. More by luck than judgement, it struck the rat on one shoulder, causing it to lose its grip and tumble down. It scurried off and Pender lost sight of it in the shadows.

  He aimed more pieces of masonry and Whittaker joined him, but they managed to strike only a few of the climbing vermin.

  Every so often, Pender had to kick out with his boot at the pointed snouts that appeared over the overhang in the wall by his side.

  ‘It's no good, Pender! We'll never stop them!’

  He saw that the tutor was right. There were just too many, and the missiles were becoming more difficult to pull from the wall, the looser ones used up now.

  ‘Okay. We'll have to climb,’ he said.

  ‘But you said we couldn't! The walls are too smooth!’

  ‘We'll have to try! We'll have to dig out handholds as we go

  - the walls might be soft with damp.’

  Whittaker looked at him as though he was mad. ‘That's impossible! We can't claw our way to the top!’

  ‘There's no bloody choice! We can't stay here. Look, I'll have to go first; you won't be able to use that hand much. Try and keep close behind me - I'll help where I can.’

  Pender clambered onto the brickwork that jutted out at right angles from the wall they were leaning on and began his ascent, testing every grip on the crumbling stone. He was relieved to see Whittaker following his example.

  He soon reached the highest limit of the climbing wall and he stood erect, keeping his hands flat against the facing surface.

  Kicking into the brickwork, careful not to overbalance, he created a small foothold. Then he undid the empty gun-belt and used the metal buckle to dig into the wall's surface. The outer layer crumbled like powder, but the going became tougher when he reached the stone underneath. There was just the slightest chance the idea might work, though. If he could just create enough holds for their hands and feet, they might . . .

  He saw there was no chance at all. Above, on the top of the building's inner wall, a pointed, black shape appeared, looking over the edge, nose twisting and waving in the air. The rat opened its jaws wide and gave out a snarling hiss as it saw its quarry below, revealing its enormous, yellowed incisors. It was joined by other black shapes and Pender saw still more running along the wall's length. They had found another way up.

  Whittaker clutched at his leg. ‘What is it, Pender? Why have you stopped?’

  The tutor saw the vermin above and screamed aloud. The next moment, the rats were stretching their bodies over the edge, digging their powerful claws into the brickwork, then letting themselves go, hurtling towards the heads of the men below.

  Nineteen

  Pender managed to throw his arm up in front of his face before the first giant rat landed on him, but the sudden force knocked him from his perch, sending him crashing downwards, taking Whittaker with him, other black bodies following their descent.

  It seemed ages to Pender before the impact came, as though his body had floated down in slow motion. His muscles tensed for the blow, but he barely felt it when it happened. The squirming bodies of the vermin cushioned the initial impact and the rotted floorboards beneath them gave way with a dry, cracking shriek, breaking the fall even further. They fell headlong into the dark cellar beneath the house, squealing vermin toppling in after them.

  Pender's breath was knocked from him and everything was a mad blur of swirling dust and black, leaping shapes. Bodies were landing on top of him, claws slashing at his face and hands as he tried to protect himself. But the rats were too confused and startled to attack. They scrambled around in the underground chamber, snarling and clawing at each other in their panic, trying to climb the walls of the cellar as though thi
s was a place in which they had no desire to be.

  Pender wiped the grit from his eyes and looked up at the gaping hole above, the sunlight shining down through the old mansion's shell, flooding the basement with shafts of dust-filled light. Their fall had caused at least hah’ the floor above to cave in and the rats were spilling over the jagged edges.

  ‘Pender!’

  He turned his body to see Whittaker crawling in the rubble, free of any clinging rats, blind terror driving him forward. Pender tried to reach him, but he had not yet recovered his breath.

  He started to call his name but only sharp gasps came from his throat. The tutor was crawling away from him, trying to get from beneath the vermin still tumbling down. One landed on his back and crouched there, its claws digging in, sending the tutor into an even wilder frenzy. His screams filled the cellar with their shrill sound, rising above the squeals of the vermin, and he staggered forward, still on hands and knees, heading into the darkness beyond the shafts of sunlight.

  Pender managed to raise himself on one elbow and tried to call out to the tutor, but was still unable to do so. A terrible, cloying stench filled his nostrils, making breathing even more difficult. A falling rat knocked him back amongst the rubble and he pushed the creature away in a frantic movement. It nipped at his hand and darted away; mercifully, Pender was still wearing the tough gloves. He gained his knees and rose up from the sea of bristling fur. He could see Whittaker's figure just beyond the area of light, now standing, the black shape gone from his back, others scurrying around his ankles. His figure was still as though shocked rigid, and he seemed to be gazing at something in the corner of the cellar.