The Suicide Exhibition: The Never War (Never War 1) (43 page)

Then came the chatter of the radio truck’s big Vickers machine gun. Two surviving Germans had made a run for the
entrance into the mound. The .303 rounds tore their bodies apart in seconds.

‘Tend to the wounded,’ Henderson snapped.

‘Sorry about Maguire,’ Guy said quietly.

‘He was a good man,’ Henderson said. ‘But we keep losing good men in this war.’

‘Is that it, sir?’ The driver of Guy’s vehicle asked. He looked pale. Beside him the navigator had his hand clamped over his bloody shoulder.

‘No,’ Davenport said. ‘I don’t think this is over by a long way. Look at the ground.’

The desert was moving. The sand around the vehicles rippled, as if a strong wind was blowing. But the air was still. Something emerged from the sand – a dark, gnarled length of what might be a tree root. Except it was jointed, clutching at the air, scrabbling for a purchase on the sand.

Another tentacle thrust through beside it, clawing and pushing. A shower of sand was thrown up as the creature forced its way up to the surface. A dark bulbous shape about fifteen inches across supported by spider-like legs squatted over the desert floor. Black hollow eyes stared up at Guy and the others. A thin slit of a mouth gaped suddenly open.

All around the vehicles, more of the creatures were erupting from the sand.

THERE WERE CRIES
of horror and shock from the soldiers, followed almost immediately by gunshots. The Vril creature closest to Davenport exploded under a sudden storm of bullets as Guy opened fire.

Another of the grotesque creatures hauled itself up on to the back of the Chevrolet. A whip-like limb lashed out, catching the nearest SAS man and knocking him sideways. He was already standing up, staring out across the rippling sand. The blow pitched him over the side of the vehicle. He dropped his rifle and fell to the ground.

At once another Vril was on him. Its long limbs clamped round the man, tearing through his uniform. Blood spurted from a ruptured artery, spraying across the side of the vehicle and staining the sand.

Davenport grabbed the fallen man’s rifle, reversed it, and slammed the butt into the bloated body of the Vril at the back of the Chevrolet. The creature was knocked back, but lashed out again. Davenport ducked under the flailing limb, and rammed the rifle into the creature again. With an ear-splitting screech, it fell away. It lay on the ground, limbs curled above it, clutching at the air. Then they seemed to curl back on themselves, as if the joints were suddenly inverted, and the creature raised itself up once more.

As it braced, ready to leap back up at them, Guy fired
several shots into it. The bulbous body exploded in a mess of green and orange.

Close to them, Henderson’s vehicle gunned its engine and roared across the sand. The soldiers inside were shooting at the Vril around them. Several of the creatures clung to the sides of the Chevrolet, and another was clutching the bonnet. The front driver’s wheel crunched over one of the creatures. It exploded in a glutinous mess.

The third vehicle was further away – right in the middle of the area where the Vril had erupted from the desert. It was covered with the creatures as they swarmed over it. The whole vehicle was engulfed by a seething mass of gnarled, inhuman shapes. The sounds of firing from inside were muffled. So, mercifully, were the screams. A side panel was ripped away. The bonnet discarded. The vehicle lurched forward several yards then stopped abruptly.

‘They’re tearing it apart,’ Davenport realised.

‘Get us moving,’ Guy ordered, shooting another Vril off the side of their truck.

The truck jolted and bumped forward, then stalled. The engine coughed back into life, and they lurched forwards again.

‘Which way?’ the driver yelled.

‘Whichever way is clear of those things,’ Davenport shouted back.

‘Follow Henderson,’ Guy ordered.

There were fewer of the Vril closer to the mound, and Henderson’s Chevrolet was heading at speed for the entrance cut into the landscape. It was almost there when the ground seemed to explode under it. More of the Vril erupted from the desert, right beneath the vehicle. It crunched and bounced over them, but then slewed violently to one side.

The Chevrolet skidded, rolled, ended up on its side. Henderson and the surviving soldiers were thrown out. One of them was immediately covered with Vril. A line of the creatures scuttled hungrily towards Henderson and the last three soldiers. They fired shot after shot, but still the creatures kept coming.

Guy yelled at the driver to accelerate. But they could all see there was no way they would reach Henderson before the Vril overwhelmed them. One of them was already clawing its way over the end of the truck. A sharp tentacle skewered into the back of one of the soldiers – erupting from his chest in a shower of blood and tissue. Henderson stuck his revolver into the creature’s body before it could withdraw, and fired three shots. The Vril collapsed in a deflated heap, dragging the man it had impaled with it.

Then the creatures exploded, one after another. The desert sand was strewn with suddenly visceral slime and severed limbs. The deep roar of another engine made Davenport turn – and see the radio truck racing towards them. Its big Vickers machine gun was trained on the advancing Vril, the heavy .303 bullets ripping them to pieces.

‘They’re giving us covering fire,’ Guy realised. ‘Get to Henderson!’

They skidded to a halt beside Henderson and his men, who quickly clambered into the vehicle. The driver accelerated away as a Vril leaped at them, slamming into the side of the truck. One of the soldiers rammed his submachine gun into the dark body and fired. The Vril shrieked, and exploded into pieces. A single twitching limb remained hooked over the side of the Chevrolet. Davenport prised it loose with the end of the rifle he still held, and it fell away.

‘Head for the entrance,’ Guy said. ‘It’s the only cover.’

‘Unless there are more of those things inside,’ Henderson told him. ‘What
are
they?’

‘I wish we knew,’ Davenport told him. ‘But apart from “nasty” we don’t have a lot to go on.’

‘And what’s this place?’ Henderson said as they raced towards the dark hole cut into the desert.

It was easily wide enough for the Chevrolet. There seemed to be no Vril close to the mound, and they drove inside, the radio truck close behind. Its Vickers gun swung to cover the desert outside as it slowed to a halt behind Guy and Davenport’s vehicle.

‘This place is why we came here,’ Guy said. It seemed eerily quiet after the sounds of the battle outside. ‘We’re hoping to find answers to your question in here.’

The Vickers gun was ready to blast away at any of the creatures that came close. But for the moment they seemed content to keep well back.

‘They know we’ll have to come out again at some point,’ Davenport said.

‘We should call up air support,’ Henderson decided. He looked to Guy for agreement, and he nodded his consent.

Henderson’s suggestion that there might be more of them inside made Guy and Davenport cautious as they left the surviving soldiers with the trucks and made their way along the tunnel. Guy had a rifle slung over his shoulder and two grenades hung from his belt. Davenport wore a handgun in a holster, his hand never straying far from it. Before long they were out of sight of the entrance, and their torches gave the only light.

‘Streicher didn’t make this tunnel,’ Davenport said. ‘He cut a hole into the end of this passageway, like a door. Like he knew it was here.’

‘Maybe he did,’ Guy agreed. ‘He was an Ubermensch.’

‘But how? He was human enough when I met him in France, I’d swear to it. Unless…’

‘Unless what?’

‘When I pulled him out of the burial mound,’ Davenport said. ‘Maybe something happened to him then. He breathed in the gas or whatever it was. Or perhaps he was bitten or stung by one of those creatures. I did see… something. Something in the tomb, just from the corner of my eye.’

The passageway sloped down into the ground. There were openings off, each of them giving into a large chamber. The first few were empty.

‘It’s a different layout to the other sites,’ Davenport said. ‘But we should be careful. There may still be traps.’

‘Look at this.’ Guy shone his torch through another opening. ‘This is more like it.’

The pale light picked out broken glass and pottery strewn across the floor. A pile of bracelets, like the one Sarah had found in Suffolk, lay close to one wall. They picked their way through the chamber, and Guy stuffed one of the bracelets into his pocket.

‘We should gather up as much of this stuff as we can,’ he said.

‘Best check what else is down here first,’ Davenport cautioned. ‘We want to make sure we take the most useful things. Who knows what’s further inside?’

‘Nothing good, I suspect.’

They found a chamber of empty glass jars, identical to the ones that had housed Vril creatures at the other sites.

‘The ones outside, do you suppose?’ Davenport said. ‘You think maybe they burrowed their way out of here?’

‘No,’ Guy said. ‘Look at this.’

At the back of the chamber, two small circular openings were cut into the wall, close to the floor. Guy shone his torch into one of them, revealing a round tunnel. There were grooves cut into the sides, like small steps.

‘That’s how they get out,’ Davenport realised. He shone his own torch into the second cylindrical tunnel.

A dark tentacle lashed out from inside the tunnel, whipping across in front of Davenport’s face. He cried out and leaped back, fumbling for his gun.

‘Christ – they’re coming back in!’

Guy stepped in front of him, dropping his torch as he unslung his rifle from his shoulder and brought it to bear. The Vril was right in the opening now, gaining purchase from the narrow step-like ledges inside to pull itself up and out. Its dark eyes glinted in the erratic light from Davenport’s torch.

The rifle shot tore through the creature’s outer skin. It deflated, screeching – falling back into the hole. Tentacles scrabbled round the lip of the tunnel. Then Guy fired again, and the bulbous body exploded. He grabbed a grenade from his pocket, pulled out the pin and threw it into the tunnel opening. It rattled down the shaft.

He repeated the process with the second tunnel, then turned and ran. Davenport was right with him as they charged out of the chamber and took shelter to the side of the doorway. There were two explosions in rapid succession. A blast of heat swept past them. Smoke drifted out into the passageway.

When the sound had died away, they cautiously made their way back inside. The two small openings were blocked with rock and debris, the tunnels collapsed.

‘Let’s hope there’s no other way for them to get back inside,’ Davenport said.

His words were punctuated by the distant rattle of gunfire.

‘Sounds like they’re trying the main entrance now,’ Guy said, leading the way back out into the main passage. ‘We’d better get a move on. Let’s see what we can find, then organise getting the hell out of here.’

There was a glow coming from further down the passageway. Pale light spilled out from an entrance into another chamber. Guy and Davenport warily stepped into the light, peering into the vast space beyond. The walls were covered with strange equipment – lights glowing, dials and readouts giving information in runic symbols that neither of them could decipher.

‘What’s it for?’ Guy wondered aloud.

‘Buggered if I know,’ Davenport replied. They were both speaking in hushed voices.

‘You think Streicher found this?’

‘If he did, then why didn’t his men remove anything?’ Davenport asked. ‘They found their way in here and then… Nothing. If it was me, I’d have been loading up the trucks outside. There’s something wrong about this place.’

Guy laughed. ‘You can say that again.’

‘No, I’m serious. I mean…’ He shook his head. ‘Ignore me, I don’t know what I mean.’

Thick metal mesh hung down like spiders’ webs from the arched roof. Guy’s torch picked out the bulbous shape of a Vril hanging motionless in the netting.

‘It’s dead,’ he realised.

The body was a pale, withered husk.

Davenport had a small camera. Neither of them thought the pictures would come out in the dim light with no flashgun, but he took pictures anyway. They worked their way through the cavernous chamber, and finally pushed past the last of the hanging metal mesh, to discover what lay beyond.

‘My God,’ Davenport breathed. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

‘We’d need to ask someone who’s seen one,’ Guy replied, equally awestruck. ‘But yes, I think we’ve found a UDT.’

The craft hung suspended below the roof of the cavern – though it was impossible to see what held it in place above the floor. It was as big as the Avro Anson that Guy and Davenport had arrived in, but unlike a conventional plane it was circular, like an upturned soup bowl. The only wings were stubby fins that projected from one side of the disc. The underside was patterned with circular recesses that gave off a faint, yellow glow which was just enough to blur the shape of the disc and make it hard to discern its colour. It looked like a dull silver or possibly gunmetal, but it could really have been anything.

‘Engines?’ Guy wondered.

Davenport shrugged. ‘It’s almost like it’s on display, isn’t it. This whole place could have been designed to lead us through to this finale. The great reveal at the end of some bizarre freak show.’ He raised the small camera and snapped two pictures. ‘A couple more for the family album.’

‘How do we get that out of here?’ Guy asked.

‘Short answer is, we don’t. Though – how did
they
get it out of here I wonder?’

‘They flew it.’

‘Yes, but where? Streicher made the entrance hole, and anyway that thing’s too big to fit down the passageway… Unless the roof opens up somehow?’

‘No sign of that,’ Guy said. He raked his torch across the roof. The light barely touched it, but the whole structure seemed to be solid.

‘We should get back,’ Davenport said. ‘See if Henderson has any ideas.’

‘Let’s see what we can take back with us.’