Claustrophobia and fear prevailed among Jamie's group, as they made their way along the AC vent on their hands and knees, with nothing but the boy's small flashlight to light their way. Instead of going back the same way Hannah had come in – which they knew was no doubt now blocked by Efrafan guards -, they made their way through the HAB, towards the animal infirmary.
It was anything but easy; the AC system was a maze of dark narrow vents, with no markings or anything to point the way. Even the diagram of the facility, which Kenny had ripped off the wall back in their cell, was of little help, as it didn't include a clear outline of the ventilation system. Every now and then, they'd spot another grillwork-covered vent up ahead, only to see unfamiliar derelict rooms beyond, which they couldn't even trace on the diagram. Moving blindly, with no way to tell if they were going in the right direction or not, they kept going. Meanwhile, they had another growing problem to consider.
"Come on, Celandine old girl, almost there!" Kenny continued urging the staggering Celandine along. But the ailing doe had finally reached the end of the line. Losing her balance, she crumpled to the ground. They all turned to look at her in alarm.
"Oh, God, Celandine, don't you do this to me now!" Kenny shouted, desperately shaking the doe, begging her to awake, but to no avail. With her eyes and nose now grotesquely swollen by the infection, she looked nothing less than living death. Whether or not she had already lost her eyesight permanently was uncertain, but it surely wasn't long coming, "Oh, Celandine, please…!"
"Shut up!" Jamie hissed in warning, "Remember, sound carries in these ducts; you speak too loudly and they'll hear you!" Lost, and with Celandine now comatose and about to die before their very eyes, the group settled down to catch their breath, unwilling to go any farther.
At that moment, the light coming from Jamie's torch began to dim and finally went out; the batteries were finally dead, plunging them all into complete darkness. Trust Tom Shelton to buy the cheapest crap-flashlight. Discarding it, he turned to his last means of providing light: the luminous screen of his cell phone, which also seemed likely to die on him at any moment. The dimming bluish light fell across Celandine's swelling face, where ghastly lesions filled with pus were beginning to form, as the disease entered its final stages.
"I told you it was no use taking her along with us," said Speedwell grimly, "We're only making her suffer more…" But Jamie wasn't listening; his eyes had darted to Hickory, who seemed to have developed a small nosebleed, although Jamie couldn't remember seeing him getting hurt anywhere. Staring at the rabbit, he saw he was slowly becoming groggy and fatigued; as he had feared, the Myxomatosis was spreading fast, infecting them all, one by one. It was a matter of life or death to reach that infirmary. He sighed, thinking hard. Using the ventilation system to get there would take forever. There was only one thing for it.
"All right, this is what we'll do," he said, "The infirmary can't be too far off. Kenny and I will get out at the next vent and make our way there, using the corridors. The HAB is a big place; the Efrafans can't possibly have guards posted everywhere. If it's just the two of us, we stand a better chance of not getting caught…"
"Hey, just a minute!" Kenny snapped, "They've already tried to kill us. Haven't we had enough of this James Bond crap for one day…?" The others all muttered in agreement about the insanity of literally going looking for another confrontation. Even Speedwell looked doubtful.
"Are you sure you still want to go along with this?" asked the Owsla buck, "You do realise, if you're caught again, you'll be introducing yourself to the Black Rabbit of Inle on principal…" Although Jamie agreed whole-heartedly on that, the memory of his near-execution at the hands of Robbins still fresh in his mind, he knew it was too late for anything else, and too early for them to give up.
"We haven't much choice; between being killed by the Efrafans or dying of disease is death all the same. At least, this way we have a slim chance."
Leaving Speedwell, Hickory and Marigold to watch over Celandine, Jamie, accompanied by a reluctant Kenny and Hannah, continued on along the duct. But they didn't get very far. Around a corner further down, the duct dead-ended at a wire dust-trap with a large fan behind – part of the facility's air filtration system. Jamie tried cutting through it using the pliers on his multitool, but the wire was too thick; lying down on his back, with Kenny pushing against his shoulders, he tried kicking the dust-trap in, but it held solid. There was no way forward.
"No use," he said, nursing his aching thighs, "We have to go back…"
"Wait, what's this?" called Hannah, turning their attention to another grillwork beneath their feet. Grabbing hold, the boys lifted it off its frame, revealing another room below. But, to their utmost dismay, it wasn't the infirmary as they had hoped.
"The mess hall," sighed Kenny in disappointment, staring down at all the dusty plastic chairs and tables standing vacant around the room. At the far end, in an adjacent room, was a seating area, complete with a small bar. The vent they had reached led out through the roof of the adjacent kitchen. Several electric cookers and microwaves, among other kitchen utilities, where food was once prepared and served in self-service fashion it seemed, could be seen, standing dusty and disused, "I guess we've come the wrong way…"
"Not necessarily," interrupted Jamie, studying the diagram again and finding the mess hall. From here, he could easily pinpoint the way to the animal sickbay: out the mess hall, along a corridor, down a flight of stairs, and then to the left, "We continue on foot from here."
Climbing down into the galley, they followed the indicated corridor, with Hannah running up ahead, peeping outside doorways and around corners for them, as they noiselessly made their way towards the stairs. Suddenly, glancing around a corner, they spotted a guard up ahead, with his back turned to them, the entrance to the stairs just behind him. Gesturing at Kenny and Hannah to keep absolutely quiet, Jamie, his knife drawn, led the way forward.
Holding their breaths, they tiptoed nice and slowly towards the stairwell access, the dusty floor luckily deadening their footsteps, all the while praying the guard wouldn't turn round and spot them. But he didn't. Stepping into the stairwell, they found a spiral steel staircase running all the way from the top of the facility to the bottom. Large black painted letters on the concrete wall told them they were on Level 2B; the sickbay was on the level just below them. Hurryingly, but noiselessly, making their way downstairs, they came to a closed slide-door, with fading letters spelling:
CAUTION:
LIVE ANIMALS
RESTRICTED ACCESS
The inscription alone confirmed that they had found the HAB's livestock bay. Somewhere inside this section of animal-housing compartments had to also be a veterinary sickbay, chockfull of medicine…hopefully. Finding the door unlocked, they entered and started looking. Sure enough, it didn't take them long to locate the small animal infirmary just off the entrance to the animal pens. Breaking the glass window on the locked door with a fire extinguisher, to undo the latch on the other side, they entered.
The place hardly inspired confidence: two small adjacent rooms – one the medical bay and the other a quarantine room for sick animals - cluttered with medical equipment and supply cabinets lying on stainless-steel shelves and tables. Although undoubtedly a key facility back at the time of the Apocalypse, when healthy livestock meant a source of nourishment for the HAB's personnel, now it was a thing of the past.
Like the rest of the facility, the animal sickbay had long since been reduced to little more than a derelict junk room, following the exodus of Dr Drake's people and Hemlock's rise to power; dusty, broken, and worn-out bits of equipment lay everywhere, tucked beneath a blanket of dust and cobwebs.
However, unlike other sections of the HAB, which had been stripped clean of their precious supplies ages ago, the veterinarian's station had seen little action, as most of the livestock had died over the first few years of the Apocalypse, leaving most of the medical supplies, which were worthless for human consumption, to go to waste, shelved and mothballed for centuries. There had to be something.
Wasting no time, the trio split up and began turning the abandoned sickbay inside out, looking for any medicine that could help Celandine. At first it seemed their luck wasn't meant to hold out as they opened up drawers and cabinets, finding nothing but junk, which they unceremoniously piled onto a disused gurney. Finally, their efforts were rewarded when Hannah pulled away a strip of plastic covering something in a corner, revealing a glass cabinet on wheels, filled with an assortment of different medicine bottles, pill boxes, and ampoules.
"Eureka, guys!"
Grinning from ear to ear, the three companions fell upon the cabinet like hungry wolves going for a fat goat. Then came the question of what were they looking for. There had to be a dozen or so different medications in there and just as many samples of each drug; pills, ointments, sprays, serums, powders, and liquids, for treating a hundred different animal diseases stood on display. But which one was the damn vaccine for Myxomatosis?
"All right, mate, which is it?" asked Kenny, picking up a handful of small bottles, unable to tell one from the other, "Come on dude, think!" But, at the worst possible moment in his life, in the midst of his fear and anxiety, Jamie couldn't remember the name of the vaccine that could save their friend.
Noc… Nob…something like that," he mumbled, slapping his head in exasperation. Bollocks, which is that bloody serum? All he could remember was that the vaccine had to be administered via syringe, but nothing more. While the drugs were all clearly marked with their names and chemical formulas, none of them specified what exactly they were for. And they couldn't administer them all to Celandine until they hit the right one!
Desperately, they renewed their search, looking for a manual or anything else that could give them a reliable reference. There was nothing; apparently the army veterinarian stationed here – a certain Colonel Varnick M.O., judging by the nametag on a doctor's robe hanging from a peg on the wall – had kept all that information up in his head, eventually taking them to the grave with him. Then, going through the desk drawers, Jamie found a battered copy of A Veterinarian's Guide to Animal Medications and Immunisations – an encyclopaedia to all known animal medicines! Although obviously just a basic reference guide, containing a simple list of drugs and their related diseases, it was better than nothing.
At that moment, they heard familiar voices outside, coming downstairs. The boys instantly ducked in the shadows under the desk, watching Robbins and several Efrafans pass just outside the door. They all held their breaths, expecting them to enter the room and catch them. But they simply moved on, always hurryingly, heading towards the animal pens.
"They don't even seem to be searching for us. What are they doing?" Kenny whispered to Jamie, who didn't reply, instead gesturing to Hannah to chance a peep outside the door. She complied, giving them the thumbs up; the coast was clear.
"Let's get the hell out of here before they come back," said Jamie, picking up an empty first-aid box sitting on a chair and shoving it into Kenny's hands. "Fill this up with everything in that cabinet – don't waste time trying to sort them out now. Hannah, you keep a sharp lookout at the door. Come on, hurry up, and not a sound!"
While Kenny emptied the shelves of the medicine cabinet, fretting at the tinkling sound of glass bottles and ampoules piling up inside the metal box, Jamie continued rummaging through the drawers and lockers, looking for anything else they might need. Adding a sealed hypodermic kit, along with the encyclopaedia, and several other useful odds and ends he had found, to the box, he signalled it was time to go.
With Kenny carrying the precious box, now filled to bursting with medical supplies, and Jamie brandishing a fire extinguisher he had found, to use as a weapon in case they run into any trouble, they noiselessly crept back they way they had come. Making their way back upstairs, they found the guard still at his post, fortunately still oblivious to their presence.
Their luck seemed about to take a turn for the worst when Kenny accidentally dropped one of the medicine bottles; everything would have been ruined if Jamie hadn't pulled his friend through an open door and out of sight in the nick of time, as the bottle shattered on the floor. The guard spun round at the noise, but relaxed, seeing nobody, thinking it was just his own comrades moving about downstairs. Forbidden to leave his post to investigate, unless he actually spotted an intruder, he turned back to attention, unaware that the intruders he had been ordered to keep a look out for were hiding in the room next door!
Jamie shot his friend a furious glare for nearly giving them away with his clumsiness, as they slipped into the shadows, behind stacks and stacks of luggage – military and civilian alike - and other boxes, pilled around the room. The tags attached to them, bearing the word 'DECEASED' in red, told them these had to be the belongings of those who had died down here, whilst waiting for the solar winter caused by the asteroid impact to pass. Placed in storage and forgotten after their owners had gone, this storeroom resembled the Lost and Found of the Dead.
After a few minutes, when the guard hadn't come their way, Hannah signalled it was safe to go. Still brandishing the fire extinguisher, with the pin drawn, Jamie led the way out. Kenny paused for a moment, intrigued by the thought of finding more useful stuff here. Other than the clothes they were wearing, they had nothing left other than Jamie's knife, phone, and SAS Guide; in a survival situation, a place like this could be a treasure chamber, "Wait, we should look for weapons while we're here. Maybe some food too…"
"There's no time for that now!" hissed Jamie, struggling to keep his voice to a whisper. Although knowing all too well that they needed supplies, particularly weapons, Celandine needed the medicine first. Grabbing his friend by the collar, who had already started pocketing anything useful he could find, they hurried back to their companions' hiding place with the medicine. Unbeknownst to them, the Efrafans they had seen downstairs, on Woundwort's orders, were dragging several prisoners – members of Hazel-rah's group – from their secret prison, upstairs, to be used as leverage against them…
Meanwhile, up in the control room, Woundwort was preoccupied with his own plans. After Jamie's group had escaped, and Captain Campion had been placed under arrest and taken back to Efrafa, pending his trial, Woundwort had ordered the fugitives be apprehended at all costs.
The HAB had been ordered into complete lockdown, with all exits under heavy guard; every available Owsla rabbit had been dispatched into search parties, which had combed the HAB from top to bottom, but coming up with nothing. Growing frustrated at his Owsla's lack of progress, the General had finally resorted to going along with Robbins' plan of luring Jamie's group out of hiding, using live bait.
"Bring the prisoner forward!"
Two thickset guards approached, dragging, without any dignity or gentleness, a battered and utterly terrified doe by the ears, and dumping her at Woundwort's feet; Marigold's sister, Nildrohein, who had fled Cowslip's warren with Hazel's band in hopes of finding a new and better home, stared up at Woundwort in silent terror. The evil dictator smiled nastily.
"Glad of you to join us, my dear," he said, his voice cold as death, "It appears you have some visitors – some who lack the manners of gracing us with their presence unfortunately. It seems they need a bit of…persuasion." He turned to Vervain, standing right behind her, "What about that second doe, the one going into kindle? I am sure there were two of them still left…"
"She's in a coma, from complications related to childbirth," scoffed Robbins, plunking a sack on the table, "But never mind; her newborn litter will do just as well." With the 'bait' ready, he turned to a nearby control panel, which operated the facility's intercom system. Hitting a series of switches, to activate the public address system, he put Woundwort on the box, who spoke, his sinister voice, magnified several times its normal volume, travelling throughout the derelict, semi-illuminated corridors of the HAB on the voice circuit.
"Attention, outsiders…!"
Cramped inside their hiding place in the AC vent, Jamie's group were tending to Celandine. With Hickory now also starting to display symptoms of White Blindness, confirming that he too was also infected, the boys worked frantically, without a word. By the light of his phone, Jamie browsed through the index section of the guidebook, looking up Myxomatosis.
It wasn't easy; the book listed just about every known animal medication in alphabetical order, but not the disease itself, making it an extensive and overwhelmingly time-consuming search. There were over five hundred pages and the vaccine could be anywhere. Even the index was of little help, simply listing the names of each of the medications discussed, alongside their page numbers. They could be looking at the vaccine right now and not even realise! What were they supposed to do, browse the whole damn book from beginning to end? By the time they found the vaccine, Celandine would be a goner…if she weren't already.
The crisis was soon solved however, when Jamie suddenly remembered something he had learned from his school librarian, about finding specific information in large books quickly. Turning from the index section to the A-Z glossary at the back, he browsed through the words under M, until he finally hit upon Myxomatosis, with the page number of any related medications listed beside it. Flipping back to the indicated page, he let out a cry of triumph.
"Nobivac!" he read aloud, "That's the one!" Instant, Kenny was pawing feverously through the box of medicines, coming up with four sealed ampoules – just enough for each of the rabbits - clearly marked by that name:
NOBIVAC MYXO-RSDQI08AD02
CAUTION: CONTAINS LIVE VIRUSES!
VETERINARIAN USE ONLY!
Hurryingly unpacking the hypodermic kit, Jamie took out a disposable syringe fitted with a sterile needle. Jabbing it into the seal of the ampoule, he extracted the clear liquid, preparing a shot. How much did he need? He couldn't find a weight reference chart on the ampoule and there wasn't one in the book. Say, all of it? Perhaps. He brought the syringe close to Celandine, hesitating.
He had never administered a shot before in his life; where should he stick the needle? He had no idea if this was even going to work; he had no idea if the serum was safe after all these years; he didn't even know if he had the right dose. What if something went terribly wrong, and he ended up causing some fatal complication or something? Wouldn't that make him a murderer? Seeing his hesitation, Speedwell spoke to Jamie.
"Go ahead, young one," he said encouragingly, "It's her only hope; I am sure she won't hold it against you, even if it doesn't work."
"Here goes nothing…" Taking a deep breath, Jamie gripped the syringe firmly and drove the needle into Celandine's left thigh, just as he remembered his mother doing it on people's pets. The doe moaned painfully in her state of semi-consciousness, making him realise his touch must be pitifully amateurish and painful. Then, it was done. Discarding the used syringe, they sat back and waited, wondering what the outcome would be. Wound Celandine recover? Had the Myxomatosis done any permanent damage to her eyesight and sense of smell? Would it affect her unborn kittens? They would find out soon enough.
Using an old-fashioned stethoscope and a mercury thermometer he had found in the sickbay, like a doctor, he continuously monitored Celandine's vitals, looking for any reaction. Half an hour passed in silence. He could hear her heart racing under the effects of the fever, which was slowly killing her, the serum seemingly having no effect whatsoever… Then, suddenly, listening again, he heard her heartbeat slowly begin to ease up; even the thermometer, originally registering a life-threatening body temperature of 110, was beginning to go down. Although obviously they couldn't expect the full outcome in the short run, Jamie knew the vaccine was working; the mutated viral strand in the serum was boosting Celandine's, otherwise, defenceless immune system, counteracting the Myxomatosis.
"It's working guys. Look!" the boys winked at each other, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of their companions' stunned expressions. The rabbits, all of which believed White Blindness to be completely unstoppable, couldn't believe their eyes. Was their friend actually getting better?
"Frith of Inle, they're right!" muttered Speedwell, utterly dumbstruck with amazement, "Unbelievable…"
"All right, let's not waste time," Jamie said, preparing another syringe. Now that they had tested the vaccine and knew it worked – so far at least -, everyone else had to be given a shot as well, before the Myxomatosis spread any further. His confidence restored, Jamie got to work again, sticking each of his rabbit friends in turn with a shot of Nobivac, immunising them. The prospect of anyone dying from White Blindness had finally been lifted.
"That's it then," said Jamie triumphantly, discarding the used syringes and ampoules, "Now you guys have immunity to Myxomatosis for the next two years." For an instant, his mind flashed back to Rosebud and Flyairth; if only they had a few more doses of Nobivac, they could have brought help back at Thinial, just as he had promised. Unfortunately, those rabbits were not coming out of quarantine any time soon.
Before the boys could receive any words of praise however, the group's rejoicing was cut short when they suddenly heard Woundwort's booming voice on the facility's intercom, calling out to them.
"Attention, outsiders! We know you are still down there and that you can hear us. You efforts to escape my Owsla have been valiant and bold, so I will be putting your courage to the test one more time. I am aware that you've come here seeking Hazel's band of outsiders. Well, I have a certain doe in my custody, who wishes to speak to you…" They heard him speak to someone off-microphone, "Now then, Nildrohein, if you please…"
For a moment there was a pause and then they heard the chilling sounds of slapping and kicking over the intercom, followed by Nildrohein's painful cries. Robbins's voice spoke in the background, "Call out to your sister, you bitch, and be quick about it! Now!" The thud of someone being slammed down flat on a tabletop was heard, and then Nildrohein's crying, terrified voice rang out over the intercom.
"Marigold, please don't listen to them! They mean to kill you all… Ow!" Her pleading was cut short however as someone punched her in the ribs from behind for not cooperating, or so it seemed. Woundwort's voice then reappeared on speaker.
"If you recognise her, then I believe you get the message," he said coldly, "You are hereby ordered to come out and surrender immediately. Refuse, and she dies! Robbins!" he called, as his mad associate's voice was heard again, this time talking to them directly.
"You have until the count of ten to break cover and turn yourselves in! You don't, and I'll blow her head off!" he said, the clicking sound of his revolver being cocked, followed by Nildrohein's frightened whimpering and pleading, echoing over the intercom, "One… Two…!"
"Frith of Inle! Nildrohein!" cried Marigold, having gone tharn the instant she had recognised her sister's voice. After escaping her mad father and having come all this way, she had finally found her missing sister, only to discover she had fallen into Woundwort's clutches and about to be killed, "We've got to help her…!"
Jamie and Speedwell had to restrain Marigold, who was about to dart for the open vent, crying out hysterically for her sister, "No, Marigold, you can't help her! They'll just kill you too!"
"…Five… Six…!"
"Please, don't, I beg you…" Nildrohein, realising she was about to die, could be heard crying and pleading for her life, but her captors were beyond any ideas of mercy. Meanwhile, her chilling cries were sending her sister, unable to do anything to help her, around the bend with horror.
"I can't leave my own sister to die! Let me go!" shrieked Marigold incredulously, struggling like mad to wriggle out of their grasp, "Nildrohein…!"
"…Eight… Nine…!"
Jamie held his breath, his heart pounding; although he, like the rest of his companions, knew Nildrohein was doomed, and giving themselves up wouldn't make a damn difference, not with Woundwort wanting them all dead anyway, the thought of what that poor doe must be feeling, knowing she was about to be killed because of them, felt like an icy knife being driven through his heart. Perhaps some miracle would make Woundwort change his mind at the last minute and call off the execution…? Unfortunately, that wasn't to be the case.
"…Ten!"
No sooner had Robbins reached the count of ten, than the deafening bang of a gunshot echoed throughout the facility, followed by a deathly silence, and they knew that Nildrohein was gone.
"NO!"
At the sound of the gunshot, which had been her sister being murdered in cold blood, with the execution literally broadcasted for everyone to hear, Marigold completely lost it. It took the combined strength of both the boys, Speedwell, and even Hickory, to restrain her. Finally giving up her efforts to break free, Marigold slumped to the floor of the duct, sobbing hysterically, "No, please Frith, no! Not Nildrohein! Not my sister…!" Her grief turned to fury, as she rounded on Jamie, who was throwing up in a corner, sickened with horror and guilt.
"Frith damn you, why did you stop me?!" she shrieked, shedding alligator tears of grief and hate, "They killed her because of you and your damn heroics! I was a fool to trust you to reunite us with our friends… You're no better than my father! You killed her! You killed her! You killed her…" She broke down sobbing, overwhelmed with grief and despair. Over the intercom, they heard Robbins' tormenting voice again.
"It seems sacrificing your own friends like cowards doesn't have much of an impact on you," he sneered maliciously, "But no matter; we'll you some quiet time to reflect, and then we'll try again. We still have plenty of prisoners to kill on your conscience! Perhaps witnessing another execution up close will change your minds…?"Then the com went dead.
They all slumped to the floor, feeling utterly desperate; there was no more doubt that some members of Johnson's party had indeed survived the siege and were being held prisoner down here by the Efrafans. And Robbins' words had just confirmed that they hadn't seen the worst yet; any minute now, another prisoner would be killed on their account. And this cruel tactic would only continue on until they either surrendered, or all the prisoners were dead. Things weren't looking up after all…
Upstairs in the control room, Robbins was wiping blood off his clothing, which had come splattering everywhere when he had shot Nildrohein dead. The doe now lay lifeless at his feet, her brains blown clean out of her skull, her final expression of terror still visible on her rigid face, yet edged with a slight expression of relief, knowing that at least her sister was alive – her last comforting thought before death.
"Somebody clean this mess up, will you!" barked Robbins, as the guards, temporarily stunned by the lethal power of the gun, as well as the brutality of the killing, sprang forward and dragged the bloodied corpse away. Woundwort, who had been watching the whole thing, as if he didn't have a single care in the world, shook his head.
"It seems I underestimated them; they are actually above sacrificing their own friends to save themselves. Such an appalling display of cowardice…"
"Appalling indeed, sire," cackled Vervain sadistically, "So who will be next? How about that cringing bit of filth, Blackavar? He put up quite an impressive screaming match, begging for mercy, when we disfigured him the first time; I believe it's high time we made him a eunuch, to set an example to the rest of those cowardly outsiders…"
"That, Captain Vervain, will have to wait," said Woundwort, turning to Robbins, his expression cold, "As much as I'd like to compliment you on your unbending ruthlessness, our escapes are still showing no indication of surrendering. And, unless they do, I am still far from satisfied!" Robbins only smiled.
"Have patience, my dear General," he said, cleaning his revolver, "Persuasion takes time; right now, those brats downstairs are frightened, desperate, and vengeful. We'll give them fifteen minutes, for our warning to sink in, and then, if they still refuse to come out, we'll be giving them an even more spectacular killing to witness. Trust me, this tactic is popular among terrorists, as it has the potential of breaking the spirit of even the most resilient enemy. Like my old mentor Sergey used to say: 'If you have a heart, then you can never be fit to be called a true soldier.'"
"A word of the wise," commented Woundwort, looking impressed, "After all, that's exactly why that renegade Hazel-rah and his human protector Johnson failed in their pitiful attempt to destroy me…"
Downstairs, Jamie's group were struggling to pull themselves together and figure out some way out of this new predicament. Although, so far, they had managed to evade capture and death, as well as rid themselves of the Myxomatosis threat, the Efrafans were not giving up. To make matters worse, now that they knew that those brutes had hostages – familiar faces to them -, they couldn't just leave them to their fate. The terror in Nildrohein's voice seconds before she had been killed kept playing over and over in their minds like a haunting nightmare. Finally, Speedwell broke the silence.
"My friends, we have to keep moving," he said softly, "Nildrohein was already beyond help. This wasn't a case of her or us; it was the difference between one victim or hrair. Once Woundwort gets it into his mind to kill you, there's no negotiating…"
"You still had no right to just leave her at the mercy of those scoundrels!" snapped Hickory indignantly, backing up his distraught mate. Back where they came from, Cowslip would sacrifice any one of them to their humanoid custodians this way without a second thought; to see their newfound friends, who had promised to help them escape that life of fear, do the same thing to someone so close to them, felt nothing short of betrayal, "How could you be so cruel…?"
"Look," said Speedwell sharply, "You are not the only one who has lost a beloved one to Woundwort. Jamie's lost his father; and I've lost the only doe I've ever loved in my life…again…" The group's grieving for Nildrohein was cut short as Speedwell launched into the same sad story his estranged cousin Bluebell had told Alan Johnson when they had first met not so long ago.
"…Even after I lost her, in spite of the feud that developed between my cousin and me, deep down I always felt it was a punishment from Frith for betraying her over my selfish ambitions. Although I have long since accepted that I can never win her heart again, I made a secret pledge I would always be by her side and her children's when they needed me, till the day I die. When Woundwort seized the warren, forcing Acorn and me to flee, I swore I wouldn't betray her again. That's why I took the risk coming back here; just like Jamie did for his father, and you for Nildrohein."
Although somewhat touched by Speedwell's story, realising the hard truth that Nildrohein to never meant to be saved, Marigold still wasn't through with the death of her sister, her life-long dream of them leading peaceful and happy lives together someday, now shattered forever, "It doesn't change the fact that my sister, who never harmed anyone in her life, was murdered in cold blood…!"
"That's why you've got to make her sacrifice count," Speedwell continued, before she could lose it again, "She died knowing that, at least, we're still one step ahead of Woundwort and Robbins; unless you want her to have died in vain, you must – we all must – pull together quickly and figure out some way to save the rest of those prisoners in line for execution up there!" Kenny scoffed.
"The only way that's going to happen is if we give in and surrender to those sons-of-bitches!" he retorted, "Only when we're either dead or captured will they stop this carnage…if they do…" Although only meant more as a sarcastic remark than anything else, it suddenly gave the desperate Jamie a wild idea.
"Then that's what we're going to do. We kill ourselves!" His companions all looked at him, thinking he had snapped completely,
"What in Frith's name are you saying?" gasped Hickory, "You're mad! Are you suggesting we take our own lives in hopes that they will let the others go? What kind of logic is there in that…?"
"That's what they're going to think," Jamie explained, outlining his plan, "If we can somehow convince them that we're dead, they'll cancel the lockdown, allowing us to escape in the confusion - and free the others in the process."
"But how in Frith's name do we do that?" asked Speedwell, "Play dead…?" Jamie thought hard; it would take something really spectacular to pull off a deception like that.
"A fire," he said, "We will start a bonfire, and make it seem that we were caught in the middle of it and perished." The rabbits all gasped at the thought of such a plan, their natural fear of fire kicking in. Even Kenny didn't seem too keen on the idea of setting the HAB on fire with them still trapped inside, remembering the wise old saying of 'Don't play with fire' he and his friend had been taught as little children.
"Great, and how exactly to we prevent from being roasted alive for real, when we torch this place? There are guards on the lookout for us at every exit! And what about Celandine? She can't even walk yet!" Jamie turned to look at their sick friend, still lying unconscious on the floor, the vaccine slowly producing the antibodies to counteract the disease. It could take several hours, perhaps days, before she was fit to go anywhere. What were they to do about her? They could take turns carrying her in pairs, but she would still hold them up, reducing their already slim chances of escape. Unless…
"Let's go and search that storeroom," said Jamie, "Perhaps there's something there we can use. Come on, there isn't much time!" Climbing down from the duct, the boys led the way to the Lost and Found storage compartment, where the belongings of the deceased, among other junk, were kept. Surprisingly enough, on the way, they had noticed the guard posted at the stairs had strangely gone. Still, it would make it a lot easier for them to carry out their plan, if they could move around freely for a while. Unfortunately, they failed to notice Vervain, who had deliberately recalled the guards on Woundwort's orders, hoping to lure them out, watching them from the stairs…
With little time to spare, Jamie divided their group into three parties, each assigned with a different task: He and Hannah started salvaging anything useful they could find; Kenny and Speedwell were assigned the task of gathering anything volatile they could find for the bonfire; Hickory and Marigold stood watch by the door; only Celandine, who was still too weak to help out, was placed on a bed of old clothes and left to rest.
"Come on chaps, make it fast!"
Using an empty traveller's bag made of waterproof nylon he had found on a shelf, Jamie began filling it with anything useful. As it turned out, his hunch of finding useful salvage here, inspired by his father's survival teachings of making good use of absolutely any resource available, proved to be correct, for the storeroom held more than just the junk of centuries-dead people.
Going through the luggage, the boys found an ample supply of clothing, all perfectly preserved after all these years, hardly even dusty from age. Kenny, who had never owned any real clothes in his life, save for his father's oversized hand-me-downs, seized the opportunity. Picking up a Marine's uniform he had found in a suitcase, he slipped into the shadows behind some piled-up old furniture, he stripped, underwear and all, and emerged a moment later dressed in brand-new clothes his size for the first time in his life. A machete, which he tucked in his belt, added the final touch to his new wardrobe. His old clothes were added to the pile of junk he and Speedwell were piling up in a laundry cart for the fire.
Jamie too was also temped to a change of clothes, preferably something that could withstand the wilderness better, but they had more important things to do than browsing for new clothes, and very little time at that. However, he added a pair of hiking boots and a multi-pocket traveller's vest to the bag, intent on trying them on later. It was frustrating next to find a box of electrical devices, including several flashlights, only to realise their batteries had long since gone flat and corroded, rendering the lot completely useless. Then, going through another suitcase, he found of pack of several unused glowsticks, which he pocketed. Obviously not as reliable as a flashlight, they would do.
The silver tuna was found when they came across a semi-stripped survival kit sitting on a chair. Excitedly opening up the metal container, they found an assortment of useful items, including space blankets, a hatchet, tarpaulin, canteen, a length of high-textile cord, and, joy-of-all-joys, a survival tin – a box containing ferrocerium (flints), fishing line and hooks, sawing needles, safety pins, dental floss, a sharpening stone, and saw-wire -, all of which could be useful in a hundred different ways out in the wilderness.
With regards to weapons however, unfortunately, there was nothing to be found, save for Kenny's machete, the HAB's personnel apparently having taken care to remove any such hazards. Then, Jamie finally found an old flare gun, complete with a box of cartridges, which someone had smuggled here in his luggage. Although obviously not as powerful as Robbins' revolver, he knew it was much more effective than a fire extinguisher, remembering the humanoid he had burned alive back at Cowslip's warren. A dozen leftover freeze-dried MREs from the galley, making up a week's worth of emergency supplies for their journey, completed their take.
For Celandine, they were fortunate enough to find a rickety stretcher on wheels lying stashed in a corner, where they placed the unconscious doe for safe transport, covering her with a bivouac they had found in another suitcase to keep her warm and comfortable. Now, they had medicine, tools, weapons, and means of proving light, heat, food, and shelter; the bare essentials for a lengthy journey through the wilderness of the future world. Now, all they had to do was escape this place.
They had just about finished packing, when Hickory suddenly called out, "I hear them, they're coming!" It was time to leave. With Jamie carrying their equipment on his back and pushing the cart filled with old clothes, towels, papers, plastics, cardboard, and even old batteries for the fire, while Kenny pushed Celandine's stretcher along, the group hurried back to the mess hall.
As part of their plan, they carted the junk into the kitchen and pilled in on the hobs. Then, using a bottle of spirits they had found in the bar, they drenched the pile with it, building a bonfire. But when Jamie tried turning the electric hobs on, nothing happened; the facility was operating on auxiliary power, so the main power buses, including those for the stoves, were dead. His eyes lit up as he spotted a small microwave on a nearby shelf, with an auxiliary power jack, clearly marked in red, protruding from the wall beside it.
Hastily yanking the power cable out of its socket, he plugged it into the emergency jack and saw the dials instantly flicker back to life. Taking a wire sponge from the sink and drenching in the last of the alcohol, he placed it into the oven, rigging the same booby-trap they had seen the character Casey Ryback do in The Siege, but had never been allowed to try it out for themselves.
"If mum could see me now, she'd kill me," Jamie muttered grimly, preparing the 'fuse' that would set this whole galley ablaze in another minute, "Not only are we vandalising the place, but we're also wasting good clothes that could have otherwise been donated to charity." With the booby-trapped microwave facing the bonfire, he turned it on full. Sparks instantly began flashing inside, indicating the alcohol-drenched wire-sponge was a live and ticking bomb.
Everything set, the group fled out a back way service door, intent on circling around from the other side, while Robbins and the Efrafans were busy with the fire, and making their way back upstairs, right under their noses. No sooner had the door closed behind them, than they heard the microwave explode, igniting the bonfire they had built. A fireball erupted from the galley, sweeping the entire mess hall…
Outside, at the foot of the stairs, Robbins and Woundwort had arrived, flanked by the entire Efrafan squad. After Vervain had returned, excitedly reporting he had located Jamie's group, the Efrafans had regrouped and made their way downstairs with an even more chilling display in store for them. On Woundwort's orders, the man had brought along Violet's newborn kittens, with instructions to start killing them, one-by-one, the minute they had the outsiders within sight. As far as they were concerned, the execution of that doe because they had refused to surrender had thoroughly demoralised the group; the execution of a helpless infant, and in plain view nonetheless would definitely bring them down to their knees in surrender. Their foolish sentiments would spell out their own grim downfall.
With the Owsla taking up attack positions outside the entrance to the mess hall, Robbins, knife in hand, took out one of the crying kittens in the sack by the scruff of its neck, preparing to run it through with the blade for the boys to see. Woundwort was about to call out to the fugitives again, demanding they surrender on pain of the kitten being slaughtered.
"Outsiders, your time is up…!"
BOOM!
The entire group were knocked to the floor, as the door to the mess hall was suddenly blasted open by a ball of fire. Behind the blasted doors, they saw a roaring fire incinerating the room. The Efrafans seemed about to panic, their natural fear of fire kicking in as they began to withdraw towards the stairs.
"Hold your positions!" roared Woundwort, furious at seeing his Owsla cower in the face of whatever game that impudent boy and his crew were playing with them, "Anyone who dares falter will be punished!"
"But sire, we don't stand a chance against that fire…!" Vervain protested, thinking the fire had been some sort of booby trap meant for them, which they had missed by lucky chance.
"Silence, you fool, or I'll kill you!" roared Woundwort again. He rounded on Robbins, "What's going on here? What's this?"
"I'm not sure," said Robbins calmly, dropping the sack with the kittens, and grabbing a fire extinguisher and fireman's air mask from their locker on the wall, "But we'll find out soon enough!" With great energy and skill, he attacked the galley fire, the foam of the extinguisher smouldering the flames, as the Efrafans looked on. In the midst of all that confusion however, nobody noticed a figure, noiselessly lurking right behind their turned backs, snatch away the bag with the kittens, which Robbins had left outside, and slip away into the shadows…
Overjoyed to have finally given their pursuers the slip, Jamie and his companions made their way back upstairs, making for the exit. By the time Woundwort and Robbins would realise it had been a decoy they would be long gone. The even happier outcome of their ordeal was that they had even managed to free some of Hazel-rah's group: Violet's newborn litter of four, although a scanty recovery, when 16 others were still missing and probably dead, they were still the cradle of the next generation of Watership Down, now safely out of danger. Speedwell, in particular, was overwhelmed with joy, and had insisted on taking them under his personal protection, as he carried the sack in his mouth, taking great care not to disturb the babies curled up inside.
With the boys carrying Celandine's stretcher between them, they made their way up the stairwell to Level 1. According to what they had overheard from Robbins and Woundwort earlier that evening, reinforcements were not due to arrive from Efrafa until tomorrow; and with the trouble they had stirred up, hopefully most of the guards were downstairs, fighting the fire. If they could just make it to the elevator shaft and out, they would be home free…
"Halt! You there…!"
Damn! In the midst of their success, it hadn't crossed their minds that even a fire alert wouldn't prevent Woundwort from having at least a skeleton crew of sentries patrolling the place. Without thinking, they had walked straight into a pair of thickset Owsla rabbits the size of oafs and just as mean. In an instant, the pair of King-Kongs-with-rabbit-ears were standing in a fighting stance, advancing on them.
Speedwell didn't hesitate. Gently putting down the kittens, he launched himself at the Efrafan nearest to him, head-butting him in the abdomen. Although having the wind knocked out of him for an instant, the gigantic brute was quickly recovering and Speedwell couldn't keep him at bay for long. Meanwhile, his partner, not getting sidetracked by the sudden counter-attack, had cornered the others against the wall, his menacing expression spelling out death to anyone who tried to move. But Jamie still had an ace up his sleeve.
Drawing the loaded flare gun, he fired straight into the face of the advancing guard, who ducked to avoid the incoming fireball; the flare instead found its mark on his partner's turned back, who fell to the floor, howling in agony as the bright red flames engulfed him. Losing his nerve, the guard backed away in horror at the sight of his partner being burned alive, giving Speedwell the chance to tackle him as well. Breaking free of the scuffle, the Watershiper darted for the stairs, calling to the rest of his companions, "Run for it! Go back!"
Knowing they only had a minute before the rest of the Efrafans would be hot on their tail again, the group bolted back down the stairwell, heading for the unfamiliar bowels of the HAB. Their elaborate escape plan was not turning out to be such a success after all…
Meanwhile, Robbins and his associates were inspecting the incinerated mess hall for any signs of Jamie or his friends. It had taken a good several minutes to get the fire under control, which had left the place utterly ruinous; anyone who might have been trapped in here was undoubtedly toast. But no sooner had the last of the flames died down than Woundwort ordered his Owsla inside, to investigate the scene and confirm.
Cautiously, they entered the wrecked galley, now barely recognisable, but found to sign of the outsiders, dead or alive. It seemed they had been completely reduced to ashes, bones and all. Vervain sneered triumphantly.
"Looks like fate has saved us the trouble after all. May those scum rest in the fires of Inle forever!" Like most of his comrades, he figured the boy's group had had some freak accident and perished as a result of their own folly. Robbins however, who had better expertise in the field, having murdered his own parents in a similar manner many years ago, realised something wasn't right. Even if the fire had been hot enough to cremate the bodies – something highly unlikely for a simple kitchen fire -, there still wasn't so much as a whiff of burnt flesh in the air, and cremation always left at least some bone fragments intact. Yet, Vervain had sworn he had seen them go in here and not come out…or had they?
"When you saw them go in, did you see anything else suspicious? Fires like this don't start themselves, much less so suddenly. Were there any signs of trouble? What were they doing?"
"And what exactly was I suppose to see, you fool?" snapped Vervain incredulously, "Anyway, what does it matter? Nobody could have possibly survived that…!" Unfortunately, someone else seemed to share Robbins' sentiments that they may have been set up.
"Then I'm asking you myself, Captain Vervain," growled Woundwort softly, yet dangerously, "What exactly were they doing when you spotted them?" Vervain blanched; he had seen Jamie's party carting all that junk into the mess hall, but, without thinking, had sugar-coated his report, as he often did to impress his master, claiming he had gotten close enough to eavesdrop on them, finding them hiding, desperate and scared, utterly vulnerable. Now, his little lies had caught up with him at the worst possible moment.
"I assumed they were helpless…" he managed to blurt out, shuddering under Woundwort's stern gaze, his red eye twitching in anger.
"You assumed?" scoffed Robbins, equally displeased, "Haven't you heard, assumption is the mother of all screw-ups!" Looking more closely, he spotted the blown-up microwave in the galley, with the semi-burnt rags, which had been the bonfire, still smoking on the floor. Whatever had caused this had definitely not been an electric fire! He turned to the Owsla.
"I want every available rabbit to renew the search of the place from top to bottom, room by room, including all AC ducting, all panelling, the plumbing, sewer system, absolutely every last knot and cranny. Right now!" Corporal Coltsfoot, Vervain's new acting deputy following Campion's arrest, turned to his Captain hesitantly; under Efrafan law, other than Woundwort, only an officer could give a direct order to the Owsla. Vervain, still fearing Woundwort's wrath for his little fiasco, glowered at him.
"Well, you heard the man you fool! Get those brainless oafs moving and find that boy!"
As the Owsla hurried out, splitting up into search parties, Robbins turned and saw Woundwort staring displeasingly at him. He knew that look; while once welcomed as a priceless ally, now he was quickly falling out of his favour. Pretty soon, it would be time for him to depart, before this oaf decided he had no further use for him and ordered him disposed off. But he couldn't just return home empty-handed; he had to get back those kittens, which would mean a fortune to him back in the 21st century. And that brat and his cronies toying with them would not spoil his plans…
Author's note: I am afraid this is going to be the last update for a while, at least until Christmas. I am leaving to do my army service next week and I probably won't have time or access to a computer to write. However, rest assured that I will finish this story eventually! In the meantime, PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!