Tunnels 04, Closer

there," he informed her. Then, as he reached the next door along, he let out a whoop of joy. "And this is what we've been waiting for! The kitchen's in here!" he announced.
    He yanked the door open and stepped in.
    The whole room seemed to be moving.
    Then it stopped.
    Hundreds of small eyes were on him.
    Whiskers twitched.
    Then they swarmed.
    A black heaving mass of rats.
    "Jesus Christ!" Will wailed as, like a gush of oil, the whole pack fled for the door. Stuck in the entrance, Will gripped the doorjambs on either side of him. He closed his eyes, bracing himself against the torrent of vermin that were flooding past. Even between his legs.
    He heard Elliott's rifle crack as she shot one rat, then a second, but it was nothing compared to Bartleby, who was having the time of his life. He was like a spikey tornado as he leapt into action, seizing rat after rat in his teeth. He wouldn't bite them to death, but nip their scruffs and, with a deft shake of his head, dispatch each of the rodents by breaking its neck.
    JEEESSSUUUUUSSSSSSSS!" Will was howling, as he staggered backwards from the room. Only then did he open his eyes and take in the trail of carnage that led to the main door. Dead and bleeding rats littered the way, but there was absolutely no sign of Bartleby.
    Elliott was doubled up with laughter. "You should have seen yourself!" she exclaimed.
    Will didn't find it in the least bit funny. "Disgusting!" he gasped.
    "They're just rats... and now we've got something to eat," Elliott managed to say, still in fits of laughter.
    Will was extremely subdued as he went back into the kitchen and surveyed the chaos the rats had left. Shredded ration packets, ripped tea bags -- everything they could get their teeth into had been torn open. He spied a plastic tank of detergent on the floor that they had somehow managed to knock from the draining board by the sinks. That explained why it had been smeared everywhere.
    He turned his attention back to the shelves, where the tins were stacked.
    "At least they haven't got at my corned beef," Will said, as he tried to console himself, but he didn't feel quite so hungry any more.

    * * * * *

    "Strip off all your gear and sling it in the trunk with your weapons," Drake told Chester. "We'll come back for it later."
    Mrs. Burrows and Colly were waiting in the cellar as Chester took off his Bergen and then his belt kit, placing them in the open trunk. Then he contemplated his handgun, reluctant to be parted from it. "Won't we need our weapons when we get to the warehouse?" he asked.
    "You do realize it's lunchtime up here -- there'll be people everywhere. And police. We don't want to be caught with anything incriminating on us -- it's not worth the risk," Drake replied. "And I've got some hardware in my Range Rover, not far from Eddie's. We'll stop off there first."
    "Fine," Chester agreed.
    Drake cut a length of rope and fashioned it into a makeshift lead for the cat. Colly seemed to be less frightened of him as he looped and tied it around her neck, then handed the end to Mrs. Burrows. "For appearances' sake," he said. Slamming the trunk shut and clicking down the catches, he placed a couple of crates of old books on the lid to hide it. "Time to hit the road," he announced.
    He climbed the steps to the door at the end of the cellar and tried it. As he expected, it was locked. "This might be a little noisy, but we should be okay," he said.
    He moved several steps down, then executed a perfect side kick at the lock. There was a crash as the wood splintered, and he pulled the door open and went through. Mrs. Burrows and the Hunter behind him, as Chester brought up the rear.
    As they emerged into the square it was indeed full of people. There were thirty or so pupils from the nearby school, some of whom were kicking a football around on the grassy area in the middle, while others sat about in small groups. In addition, as Chester squinted in the unaccustomed daylight, he could see a smattering of tourists toting cameras, and a couple of elderly men in clerical robes. He took a deep breath and closed the space between him and Mrs. Burrows.
    Silence descended on the square as people began to notice them.
    The initial lull gave way to a ripple of astonished murmurs, the football rolling to a halt as the boys lost interest in their game. Everyone was watching the strange little group make its way along he side of the square. Chester realized that if he and Drake in their green and