The Genesis Plague

76

The huge rodents — bodies as large as eggplants — were teeming over Holt, clawing their way up his legs, chest and back. Hazo watched in horror as the marine flailed his arms violently, flinging rats in every direction. Blood covered dozens of tattered holes in his sleeves where he’d been bitten (though his flak jacket had protected his torso). A sickly-looking thing squirmed up on to his shoulder and sank its teeth into his ear. Holt screamed in rage, tore it free, hurled it into the darkness like a football. By then, another horde of rats was grappling up his pant legs. Trudging through the knee-deep brood, it looked as if Holt were slogging through wet cement.

‘Up here!’ Hazo screamed again. ‘Up—’

The coughing seized his voice again. Spitting up more blood and bile, Hazo watched helplessly as Holt tried to quicken his pace. Then desperation and frustration got the better of Holt and he raised his knees to try to run. It was a costly mistake.

Trampling the spongy rats underfoot caused Holt to lose his footing. He faltered, caught himself, faltered again. The rats piled on to him. He got back up again and shook some of them free, before slipping and going down a final time.

Hazo shined his light on the spot, praying that Holt would get up.

He didn’t.

The rats swarmed over their prey.

Holt’s arms thrashed a few more times, as if he were drowning. Then he disappeared beneath the roiling current.

‘Hazo!’ a voice called out over the maddening squeals.

Hazo turned and saw Shuster pulling himself up over the edge of the neighbouring container. He’d lost his helmet and his pant legs were torn up and bloody. Otherwise, he seemed unharmed. ‘Are you all right?’ Hazo called back.

Breathless, Shuster rolled on to his back. ‘I’m okay,’ he said, panting.

Hazo looked towards the entry tunnel and saw that the glow of Ramirez’s light seemed to be growing stronger again — coming back towards the cave.