GOING UNDERGROUND [3]

Even Purna was finding it difficult to hold the shotgun steady as she turned briefly to scan the black water behind them. 'You go first,' Xian Mei said to Sam. 'I don't think either Purna or I will be able to push up a manhole cover from underneath.'

Sam nodded and began to climb, not knowing whether he'd be able to do it himself. While he knew it was true that neither of the girls possessed his brute strength, he wouldn't have fancied taking on either of them in a fight. With the image of the crocodile still looming large in his mind, he was relieved a few seconds later to hear first Xian Mei and then Purna start to ascend behind him.

"At least fucking crocodiles can't use ladders," he thought.

The climb seemed twice as long as the descent, and by the time he reached the top of the shaft, Sam's muscles were trembling with fatigue. He paused a moment, sweat running down his face.

His arm was throbbing where the zombie in the supermarket had bitten him, and so was the back of his head where he'd hit it on the side of the counter. Ideally, he could have done with something to eat and drink, maybe some painkillers and a few hours' sleep to recharge his batteries.

He knew, however, that he wasn't going to get any of that any time soon. Instead, he was somehow going to have to dredge up the energy to launch an attack on the heavily armed low-lifes who had killed Dani and taken Jin hostage. This time yesterday, he hadn't even met any of the people currently in the building above him or clinging to the ladder below. Now it seemed they occupied his whole life.

Wrapping his left arm around the topmost iron rung set into the wall of the shaft, Sam took several deep breaths in an effort to stop himself from feeling dizzy, then tilted his head back as he directed the flashlight beam upwards. He saw a circular indentation directly above his head where a manhole cover should be, but the manhole cover wasn't there. Instead, laid across the top of the hole was what looked like wood.

Floorboards, he thought, his spirits sinking. In the intervening years, someone must have laid a wooden floor over the original stone flags. Transferring the flashlight to his left hand, he adjusted his position to reach up and push at the underside of the wooden floor. He expected there to be no give whatsoever, and was astonished when the wood rose easily above his hand.

It took him a moment to realize it wasn't a wooden floor above him after all, but a trap door – or, more likely, a trap door set into a wooden floor. He allowed the door to settle back into place and briefly told the girls what he had found. 'Can you open it?' Purna asked.

'I think so.' Sam pushed again, and the trap door rose. When it had risen to the extent of his outstretched arm, he climbed up and out, attempting as he did so not to drop the flashlight or impale himself on the machete which he had tucked into the belt of his jeans. He half-expected to find himself surrounded by guys pointing guns at his face, but instead, he emerged into what seemed to be a janitor's office. There was a sink, a mop and bucket, various tools and cleaning implements on shelves, and an armchair with a newspaper folded on the seat.

He turned to help the girls out and then lowered the trap door back into place. Purna crossed the room and put her ear to the door. 'I can't hear anything,' she said.

'Could be this ain't even the right building,' Sam said.