Undersea Prison

by Duncan Falconer

  ‘Can we open it?’

  ‘If we could the pod would probably jettison and we’d drown a second later.’ He looked at Christine thoughtfully. ‘We need to get to the surface.’

  Something behind him caught her attention. Her mouth slowly opened. ‘Is that an escape barge?’

  Stratton turned to follow her gaze through the window. The massive, black barge was moving gracefully away, a huge drag cable trailing beneath it. It slowly tipped up at one end, levelled out, tipped a little the other way and then began to rise.

  ‘There’s still one more left. Let’s go.’ Stratton started to head off, pausing to pick up the crank key beside Hank before continuing along the corridor and down the stairs, Christine hot on his heels.

  They ran along the gantry, reaching the entrance to the tunnel they had come along minutes before, and came to an abrupt stop. Sea water was pouring from it like a waterfall and cascading into the chasm below.

  ‘Can we get through that?’ she asked, addressing the question to herself as much as to him.

  ‘We have to,’ Stratton said. He leaned across the torrent to plant an arm on the edge of the tunnel. He reached inside and took hold of one of a stack of conduits bolted to the stone. A firm tug proved that it was secure. ‘Go for it,’ he shouted above the din of the rushing water.

  Christine didn’t hesitate, jumping past him to grab hold of the conduit. She pulled herself into the tunnel, fighting against the flow. Stratton leapt in close behind her and they headed into near-darkness as the emergency lighting grew even dimmer.

  The going was hard. Their feet constantly slipped out from beneath them due to the force of the water. ‘Watch out!’ Christine suddenly shouted as she pulled herself tight against the wall.

  Stratton did the same as several tables, carried on the flood, came bumping down the corridor at speed. Both he and the girl managed to avoid being struck.

  Christine moved a few metres further on to a large bracket which she wrapped her arms around in order to snatch a breather. Stratton pulled ahead of her. ‘Keep going.’

  She grabbed a pipe as far ahead as she could reach and pulled herself along.

  They rounded a bend where the light grew in intensity to discover that it was an emergency light illuminating a sign above a door across the tunnel from them: ESCAPE ROOM. Christine pulled herself opposite the door, wondering if they could cross the gap without being swept back the way they had come. Stratton made his way further up the tunnel. Without any hesitation he pressed his feet against the wall while holding on to a pipe and, as if he was starting a backstroke race, pushed off for the other side.

  He turned onto his front as he reached the opposite wall and grabbed for a hold, moving with the water until he reached the door. Large metal brackets were fixed to the wall either side of it and he grabbed the first, pulling himself against the door, which was in a small recess. He reached a hand out to Christine. ‘Go for it!’ he shouted.

  She did not hesitate and threw herself across the gap to grab his hand. As she secured herself he banged on the steel door. The noise of their efforts seemed to be swallowed up by the sound of the rushing water. Stratton took the crank key that he had hooked inside the waist of his trousers and repeatedly struck it against the door.

  He repeated the noisy assault as he searched for a way to open the door but there did not appear to be one. They feared the worst.

  ‘They’ve gone, haven’t they?’ Christine said, knowing the answer.

  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 sur
viving 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?’

  ‘Mine isn’t much better . . . The White House wanted this place closed down and they needed evidence of the shenanigans going on down here. We decided to pool with the feds in the end but, well, you know better than anyone how that one ended . . . It was my stupid ego that killed me. I could’ve got out earlier but I had to go that one step beyond where I was asked to.’

  ‘Yeah, that’ll do it sometimes.’

  ‘How’d you get in here without our help?’

  ‘I didn’t. My lot conned the White House into running a security exercise.We offered to test the prison - see if I could escape from it.’

  ‘They bought that?’

  Stratton put out his hands - he was the proof.

  ‘So how’s it going?’

  ‘I’m still working on it.’

  They both chuckled.

  The lights suddenly went dimmer.

  ‘The thought of Mandrick getting away with this really pisses me off,’ she said.

  ‘Maybe he won’t.’

  ‘I’d like to know it, though . . . I hope the lights don’t go off completely,’ Christine said, her fears momentarily getting the better of her.

  ‘There’s a box of candles in that room up there,’ Stratton said, indicating the transformer room.‘We won’t sit in the dark.’

  She looked at him again. ‘You’re very comforting, aren’t you? You been in this business long?’

  ‘A few years . . . I always believed there was a solution, even to the most desperate situation. Somewhere, somehow there’s one for this. Now, maybe it requires a much higher intelligence or strength than we possess to find it.’

  ‘Or luck.’

  ‘Or luck . . . But it’s there.’

  Christine noted that the water had risen several inches since they’d climbed the rack. ‘I think we should head for a higher spot to sit or we’ll soon have to swim—’

  ‘Shh!’ Stratton interrupted.

  She obeyed, watching him, his brow furrowed, eyes searching the far wall for something.

  Stratton had picked up on a sound that did not belong with the others. It came again. A single short ping, like metal striking metal, but muffled as if it was a long way away.

  Christine heard it too. ‘Others made it down here.’

  That was a possible explanation but Stratton had another on his mind.

  The noise came again. He jumped off the rack into the water that was now close to his shoulders, started to wade through it, then changed to the breaststroke and powered himself towards the door.

  ‘What makes you think they’re in any better situation than we are?’ she shouted.

  He ignored her and swam through the door. The lights flickered. Christine was suddenly alone.

  ‘I’ll check it out with you,’ she called out. She jumped in and followed him.

  She caught him up outside and he headed deeper into the main tunnel, the surface of the water now close to the ceiling. Stratton stuck to the side closest to the scrubber room, hoping to find an opening or a corridor that would lead to where the noise had come from. He considered the possibility of not being able to return to the scrubber room but he still felt compelled to find the source of the noise. He could never ignore his instincts when they were this strong.

  Stratton came to the top of a door and glanced back to see that Christine was closing in on him. He ducked beneath the surface to feel if it was open.

  It was slightly ajar and he heaved against it, wedging his body into the gap and pushing the door open wide enough to get through.

  He broke the surface to find himself in a small room with a raised floor. A single emergency light provided some weak illumination. He pulled himself out of the water onto the raised ground.

  Christine broke the surface and swam to the edge of the floor. After pulling herself out of the water she stood beside Stratton, rubbing her arms against the cold that was gripping her. Stratton put a finger to his lips. They were in a miners’ storeroom. There were piles of picks, hammers and shovels, drill bits and chisels, mining helmets, harnesses and overalls. Stratton tested the light on one of the helmets. It worked and he left it on to provide more light.

  The sound came again, still with the muffled effect that made it seem like it was coming from beyond the walls although now it was louder than before. Stratton put his hands on the wall as if trying to feel where the noise was coming from.

  Christine looked back at the water rising above the top of the door they had just come through. She wondered if they would be able to make it back to the scrubber room.

  The metallic tap came again. Stratton followed th
e wall to the edge of the floor where it disappeared under the water and he crouched to examine the spot. He climbed off the platform into the water and quietly sank below the surface.

  Christine watched as the water was disturbed further along the wall.

  A moment later Stratton surfaced. ‘There’s a way through.’

  ‘Can you tell me why we’re doing this?’ she asked.

  ‘Not exactly,’ he replied.

  She nodded. ‘OK.’

  ‘It’s a hole, right below me, a metre or so down. I’ll see you on the other side.’ He ducked below the surface again and was gone. Christine did not lack courage and lowered herself into the water. The cold attacked her immediately. She was blindly following a man she didn’t know into oblivion and was doing so without much of a second thought. It didn’t feel like the wrong thing to do, either. She took a breath and ducked under the water.

  Stratton surfaced inside a large natural cave that was brightly illuminated by a string of small halogen spotlights hooked onto the walls. There was a large rudimentary triangular metal framework made up of dozens of pieces of iron lengths welded or fixed together with clamps, bolts and cables. An acetylene bottle and gun leant against a wall. A pulley hung from the apex of the framework near the ceiling with a cable running through it, one end disappearing into the water, the other over a rocky plateau above him.

  Christine surfaced beside him, wiped the water from her face and eyes and looked surprised at the contents of the cave.

  Stratton climbed out onto the plateau to see Hamlin propped against a winch that was secured to the rock floor. He had a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. He looked as if he was asleep. Christine climbed out of the water as Stratton went to Hamlin’s side and put a hand on his chest.

  Hamlin opened his eyes and took a moment to focus on the face above him. ‘Ahh, the ferryman,’ he said, a smile forming on his lips. ‘Come to take me to Hades? I do believe I’m finally ready.’

  The end of the cable that came from the pulley at the top of the derrick-like construction was secured onto the winch drum which Hamlin had evidently been trying to free.