Dedication

  FOR HENRY, LILY, CLOE

  AND TOM

  Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  One They Know We are Down Here

  Two Deadly Crossbow

  Three The Probe

  Four The Creature Must Die

  Five Mission to the Surface

  Six To Kill in Cold Blood

  Seven Blackout

  Eight A New and Deadly Foe

  Nine A Gift for a Saviour

  Ten The Scorpion Returns

  Eleven Sector Nine

  Twelve Battle by Sonar

  Thirteen The Scorpion’s Tail

  Fourteen A Trickle of Water

  Fifteen Darkness and Death

  Sixteen A Choice of Targets

  Excerpt from The Doomsday Rats: Book Three

  Excerpt from The Doomsday Rats: Book One

  About the Author

  Other Books by James Moloney

  Copyright

  ONE

  They Know We are Down

  Here

  BERRIN’S SWORD SCRAPED noisily against the concrete as he crawled through the narrow tunnel. He was a slim boy, some would say skinny, but if this helped him get around inside the storm-water pipes that had become his home, then he didn’t care what people called him. He tilted his head a little so that the lamp attached to his helmet could punch through the darkness in front of him. He caught just a glimpse of a figure crawling ahead of him. Come on, better keep up, he told himself. They’ll be waiting for me.

  He crouched lower to keep the handle of his sword away from the tunnel’s hard shell. This was the new sword he had been given to replace the one he had lost only hours before. Half a metre of razor-sharp steel, it was sheathed in a leather scabbard and strapped to his back. He would have to pull it free soon enough, he suspected. There would be fighting. He could already feel the fear twisting his stomach into a painful knot.

  A few metres ahead, the pipe opened into a much larger one. He stood up at last and brushed the dirt from his hands. Human beings weren’t made for crawling around inside tunnels like these. They weren’t supposed to be hunted by cruel beasts called Gadges either. Half man, half wolf, the Gadges prowled the city streets above the storm-water drains. Berrin was one of only a handful of children who held out against them. They called themselves the Rats.

  Here in this larger pipe, a light bulb spilled gloomy yellow light onto the young bodies. Like the others before him, Berrin quickly reached up to switch off his helmet lamp. Battery power was too precious to waste. The Rats were a ragged bunch. The shoulders and knees of their clothing had been worn away from the constant scraping against unfriendly concrete, and any colour had long since been lost under the grime. With little chance to see the sun, their skins would have been a deathly white, if not for the dirt.

  The children had barely had time to stretch or turn to a friend for a comforting word when a boy named Ruben brought the news they had been dreading. ‘They’re coming. The Gadges are in the tunnels,’ he gasped.

  ‘Where? How many?’ These blunt questions came from their leader, Dorian. She was older than the others, though not so old she couldn’t fit inside the narrower tunnels. Her firm, commanding voice helped to calm their fears.

  ‘All over. I don’t know how many. They’ve come from different directions, I’m sure of that,’ Ruben answered solemnly. He didn’t like being the messenger who had brought such terrible news. ‘Maybe they still don’t realise we live down here,’ he went on. ‘Maybe they think Berrin and the others used the pipes this morning to escape to somewhere else. They could be just waiting for them to come out.’

  Only hours before, Berrin had made a fateful decision. Surrounded by Gadges who were ready to kill them, he had led his companions into the safety of the tunnels below ground. But in doing so, he had let the Gadges see them enter the storm-water drains. The precious secret had been revealed.

  ‘Don’t fool yourself,’ said a deeper voice. ‘They know we’re down here.’ This was Wendell, who had saved Berrin’s life and brought him into the tunnels to become a Rat. Judging from the way he was looking at Berrin at that moment, he seemed to regret it.

  Berrin’s stomach churned miserably. He sensed a movement near his feet and found Jasper there, waiting to be picked up. Grey from head to toe, except for an odd tuft of white fur on his forehead, Jasper was a real rat. ‘At least you won’t give me a hard time,’ he whispered to the rodent as he settled him gently on his shoulder.

  ‘Wendell is right,’ said Dorian. ‘They know. Our days of hiding are over. We’ll have to fight for these tunnels now.’ She thought for a little longer. ‘Most of all, we have to keep them away from here.’

  No-one argued with her. The tunnels close by had become their base within the maze of so many pipes that drained the city above them. Electrical wires had been run down from the surface to give them light and to recharge their batteries. Each of the Rats had a comfortable hammock for sleeping above the dirt and, worse, the water that often flowed through the pipes. Their weapons were kept here and what little food they been able to store away. But more important than any of these reasons, one thought taunted them all. They had to keep the Gadges away from Ferdinand, their founder, who couldn’t move about the tunnels like the rest of them.

  ‘I’ll stop them coming too close,’ said Wendell.

  ‘Me too,’ Berrin volunteered just as quickly. He had a special reason for protecting their founder that none of the others shared. Ferdinand was his uncle.

  ‘If you try to fight them hand to hand, they’ll kill you,’ said Dorian, as though she was talking about what to eat for dinner. ‘We have to be clever about this. We know these tunnels and they don’t. We can use our advantage to lure them away instead.’

  Berrin was well ahead of her. He was already planning a strategy in his head. ‘I’ll need a Dodgem,’ he announced.

  ‘Take whatever you need.’

  ‘You’ll need me,’ said a girl who stepped forward eagerly. It was Berrin’s friend Olanda. Finely braided hair escaped from beneath her helmet and danced about her shoulders as she stretched and limbered up. Olanda was always ready, whether it was for a fight or an argument. Anything rather than stand still and be quiet.

  Across the chamber, another Rat prepared to join them. It was Quinn, the worst Dodgem driver in the tunnels but the best shot with a crossbow. ‘I’m with you, Wendell,’ he called.

  Two brave teams. Two Dodgems. Seconds later, they were on the move.

  Dodgems were an ingenious creation of Ferdinand. With a steel frame and small black wheels powered by a heavy, rechargeable battery, they could scoot along the tunnels at a dazzling speed.

  Quinn and Wendell had theirs moving first and so they took the lead. Wendell was too big for the seat, but this was no time to remind him. He crammed himself into the tight space, leaving the driving to Quinn. It was a decision Wendell soon regretted. Berrin and Olanda could see him swaying precariously in the seat behind his partner. ‘I’d rather fight a Gadge than let Quinn drive me around in these tunnels,’ Olanda called to Berrin.

  After ten minutes of reckless cornering and breakneck speed, Quinn came to a halt. ‘How far in do you think the Gadges have come?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ Wendell grunted. ‘Best thing is to wait here until they reach us.’ Berrin and Olanda quickly joined them. ‘Rig the Dodgems to run the other way then kill the light. We don’t want to give them any warning,’ Wendell ordered.

  Moments later, Berrin gasped. There was no darkness like the pitch black that enveloped them when the lamps were turned off. ‘Where will we lead them?’ he asked the companions he could no longer see.

  ‘Anywhere, so long as it’s away from Ferdinand,’ Wendell answered. He slid the sword from the scabbard tied to his back and felt the edge. ‘Needs sharpening,’ he commented.

  They waited. There would be a light first, they guessed. That would be the signal. Once the Gadges picked them up with their torches, the chase would be on. None of them knew quite what to expect.

  The minutes passed.

  ‘Berrin,’ Olanda called softly, for even she had learned to keep her voice down in the tunnels. ‘Do you think Ferdinand is right? Will it soon be Doomsday for Malig Tumora?’

  ‘You’ve forgotten how he said it,’ Berrin told her gravely. ‘It could just as easily be the end for us instead.’

  His mind went back to the meeting that had finished not long before. Ferdinand was a grown-up, the only one in the city whom Malig Tumora did not control. His lanky body was frail and his skin so white that Berrin had thought he was a ghost at first. In a way he was, because his body was trapped underground.

  Before Berrin had entered the tunnels, he had known nothing of families, of aunts and uncles, or even that he had a mother and father. He had lived in a cheerless dormitory with hundreds of children like himself. Their guardians were Dfx*, grim-faced creatures with just enough human being in them to raise the children as Malig Tumora wanted. When the children grew too old for the dormitories, they became slaves of this one man.

  ‘We have to break Malig Tumora’s control over the other adults before he destroys us,’ whispered Berrin. ‘At least we know what to do now.’

  ‘The glasshouses,’ said Olanda.

  Berrin himself had discovered the huge buildings made of glass. Inside, he had found row upon row of purple flowers, as far as he could see. The fragrance of those flowers was a sweet trap. It left a human being he lpless, with no will power at all. That was how Malig Tumora controlled the grown-ups.

  ‘Yes, the glasshouses,’ he replied. ‘That’s what we have to do now. Destroy them and free the grown-ups.’

  Was that a noise? A footstep perhaps, the crush of gravel under a cruel paw. But sound could travel a long way in the tunnels. They had to keep their nerve.

  There, a second noise, more the rhythm of breathing this time. Still there was no glow against the tunnel walls. They needed to wait for the torchlight.

  When the sound grew even louder, Berrin acted. It wasn’t that fear had broken him down. They were all afraid. No, in that instant he had realised they might be making a simple but deadly mistake. They had assumed the Gadges would bring torches to light their way.

  He flicked on his helmet lamp. From only twenty metres away, three Gadges stared at them. For a moment, the light from Berrin’s helmet reflected in the perfect circles at the centre of their eyes.

  Then they charged.

  TWO

  Deadly Crossbow

  THE GADGES WERE MERCILESS creatures who could walk on their hind legs, like a man. In the tunnels, though, the largest ones were too big to walk upright. These three ran like wolves, their vicious snouts jutting forward, teeth bared.

  Berrin dived into the seat of his Dodgem, desperate to be on the move. Olanda was just as quick. She landed in the driver’s seat and, as soon as they were both aboard, rammed the control lever forward as far as it would go.

  Just as well. Quinn had the other Dodgem moving and if they hadn’t lurched forward when they did, he would have slammed into them.

  ‘Faster!’ Quinn shouted ahead to Olanda.

  Behind him, Wendell had drawn his sword to poke awkwardly at the leading Gadge as he closed to within a metre. ‘careful!’ Quinn shouted. If Wendell swung his sword too vigorously, he would tip them over and the Gadges would rip them to pieces before they could crawl out of the wreckage.

  Wendell managed to nick the Gadge on the tip of its nose, bringing a brief yelp of pain. The growling beast fell back for a moment, giving them the space they needed. The Dodgems didn’t fail them. Gradually, they were pulling away. The trouble was, they were leading the Gadges towards Ferdinand and that was the last thing they wanted.

  ‘Go left at the next junction,’ Berrin called to Olanda.

  This was easy because the pipes parted in a narrow Y. As they entered the new tunnel, he turned round in his seat. Yes, Quinn had steered to the right, taking one of the Gadges with him. He would lead that one a merry dance away from their trapped leader. It was up to Olanda and Berrin to do the same with the two that still chased them.

  ‘There’s another junction coming up. Go left again.’

  ‘It’s a pretty sharp turn,’ Olanda called back. ‘I’ll have to slow down.’

  Berrin glanced over his shoulder and gasped at what he saw. ‘No, don’t slow down! Don’t slow down!’

  ‘Well, make up your mind, Berrin. Do you want to be killed by the Gadges or my driving?’

  It didn’t seem like much of a choice. And here was the junction emerging rapidly out of the darkness ahead.

  Despite Berrin’s plea, Olanda eased back on the lever and the Dodgem lost speed. The Gadges bounded closer.

  Berrin pulled his sword free, ready to lash out, but he knew what those vicious jaws could do. One snap and he wouldn’t just lose his sword, he’d lose his whole arm as well.

  ‘Lean!’ Olanda shouted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Lean out to the left, as far as you can go.’

  With his sword in one hand, Berrin clamped his other to the frame of the Dodgem and pushed as much of his body as he dared out to the left. At that instant, they lurched into the corner and Olanda slammed the lever forward again.

  The wheels on the left side rose off the concrete. Would they tip over? They balanced precariously on two wheels for what seemed like a lifetime. Then, bang. They were back on all four wheels again and the Gadges were left in their wake.

  ‘Where does this take us?’ Olanda called.

  ‘Sector Nine, I think. Dorian told us not to come up this way, remember.’

  ‘Because of the Gunge?’ she asked, referring to the blood-red plant that had tried to kill Berrin once already.

  ‘I suppose. But didn’t she mention something else? A Firedrake, that was it.’

  ‘Oh, great! Gadges, Gunge and a Firedrake, whatever that is. Now it’s my turn to choose my own death!’ Olanda complained. Despite their fears, she managed a laugh. That was Olanda.

  At yet another junction she slowed almost to a stop.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Berrin cried.

  ‘We don’t want to lose them just yet.’

  She was right. Their job was to lead the Gadges away, to where they couldn’t do any harm. As soon as Berrin’s helmet lamp picked out the intruders, they set off again. But inside his head, Berrin could hear Dorian’s warning. He wished he knew what a Firedrake was.

  When they had drawn well ahead of the Gadges again, he called out to Olanda. ‘This is far enough. Look for a side tunnel.’

  This time, they had to slow down to a crawl. The Dodgem would fit inside the narrower tunnel but the turn could be tricky.

  ‘There’s one,’ he said, pointing over Olanda’s shoulder.

  She brought them almost completely to a halt before turning. Then they were inside and she could speed up again. Instead, she stopped altogether.

  ‘Come on, get moving.’

  ‘There’s nowhere to go,’ she answered quickly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘See for yourself. This pipe branches into smaller ones just ahead.’

  ‘Back up then. We’ll have to find another one.’

  To do this, they needed to turn around in their seats and change the light from one end to the other. They worked quickly, or at least they tried to, but the bracket that held the headlight in place was bent, making the light difficult to free. Every second was precious, and by the time they had the light off one end and onto the other, they had used up too many.

  ‘We’ll have to stay here and hope they go past,’ Berrin whispered, killing the light.

  They waited in the darkness. Less than a minute later, heavy panting filled the larger tunnel.

  ‘Hold up,’ panted a weary voice.

  ‘We’ll never catch them if you have to rest all the time,’ complained his companion. They had stopped only a few metres past the opening where Berrin and Olanda waited anxiously.

  The first Gadge took a deep gulp of air and swallowed hard. ‘I’m not sure I do want to catch them.’

  ‘What are you saying? That was the order from Gadger Red. Get them all, or chase them out into the open.’

  ‘Yes, and because he’s in such a hurry he’s sent us into these wretched tunnels without lights or guns. Use what Malig Tumora gave you, he says. Your nose, your teeth, your claws. Well, I don’t like it. Those little renegades have got it all their own way down here.’

  His companion snorted in reluctant agreement.

  Listening in the nearby pipe, Berrin almost did the same. Gadges were large creatures. When they stood upright, toting a gun like they did on the surface, they were awesome, enough to turn your mouth into a desert just looking at them. But here in the tunnels, they needed all their limbs for walking. He hadn’t realised during the panic of their escape, but now the Gadges had told him themselves: they had no weapons. Well, none except their teeth and their claws, although these alone meant they were still a fearsome enemy. And Gadger Red had been right about one thing, as Berrin and Olanda were about to find out.

  ‘Do you smell anything?’ the first Gadge asked.

  ‘Just the putrid stink of your sweat,’ came the reply.

  The insult was ignored. ‘No, take a sniff,’ the first insisted.

  Berrin’s skin went cold as he heard a deliberate intake of breath.

  ‘I can smell those young humans, now that you mention it,’ he said. ‘But we know they came this way.’

  ‘It’s stronger than that,’ said the first and Berrin knew then that they were going to be discovered. Already, the crunch of tiny stones under their paws told him they were moving about, sniffing, searching, their noses making up for what their eyes couldn’t see.

  ‘I can feel an opening off to the side. The smell’s coming from here.’

 

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