When he blinked a few times to improve his vision, he realized their garb was tattered and grimy, torn in places and hanging loose from their bodies as if three or four times too large for them. And the blue stripes were darker too. And wider.
Heim tried to suppress a cough so as not to bring attention to himself, but he couldn’t hold it back. His throat was too raw, his mouth too dry. The choking cough escaped, followed by another, then yet another. Hand to his mouth, he tried to muffle the coughs, but still they were piercing within the confines of the packed, descending lift. He couldn’t remember pressing the Ground Floor button when he’d entered.
At last, they began to turn towards him: skeletal faces; sunken, haunted eyes; cheekbones that jutted over deeply hollowed cheeks; and jawbones that almost pierced their skin. The clothes they wore had no buttons, and the material was so threadbare and rough that he wondered how they could survive in the cold.
For the lift interior was very, very cold, so much so that the haze had become an icy mist. But none of them appeared to notice. They just stared as Aribert Heim, Dr Death, looked at them and shivered.
And not only from the cold, for even after so many years he remembered some of those emaciated faces with their shaven heads. He was hallucinating, that was all, he told himself; the past brought to life by his own panic. But now the ghosts that he, Aribert Heim, had created all those years ago shuffled towards him. And even as they fell upon him and began to pulverize his face, he still believed it could only be in his imagination. There were no such things as spirits of the dead. No matter how they stamped on him or beat him, tore his clothes away or stuck their skeletal fingers into his chest and yanked out his heart while it was still beating, he knew, he knew, without a doubt, this was all unreal, hallucinatory, impossible to be true.
But he did feel the horrendous pain.
And he did suffer a dreadful death, despite what he refused to believe.
90
Delphine screamed and buried her head against Ash’s chest to shut out the sight of Andrew Derriman’s thin body being cut to pieces, even as it lay on the stone floor.
The weapons still flew from the walls and into his prone body. It didn’t seem to be enough for the cruel spirits controlling them that he was dead. Ash, his arms protectively around Delphine, wondered if this was meant simply to violate the fallen figure further, or to torment them, the onlookers. Derriman’s corpse flinched each time it was hit, but Ash knew this was because the relentless weapons were cutting into nerves and tendons. There was no life left in the poor man’s body.
Would they soon start to fly from the armoury and begin to attack beyond it? Meanwhile, the cries of hysteria and the crump of the growing fire came to his ears. It was difficult to see anything clearly beyond the armoury entrance, for the smoke was denser and the glow of the fire had reached a great height. All he could make out were blurred suggestions of milling figures. There had to be a way out down there somewhere, otherwise those people would be running down the hall to get away from the flames, but any attempt to reach the entrance lobby would result in certain death from the flying weapons. One thing was sure: they couldn’t remain where they were.
‘We have to make a move,’ Ash said as an iron club struck the side of the armoury entrance.
Delphine’s horrified eyes peered up at him. Louis merely stood close to them, straight and still, as if mesmerized by the activity inside the armoury.
‘David, where can we go?’ Delphine asked, and he was relieved to find a steadiness in her voice. If she cracked, it would make things even more difficult.
‘We follow the rats,’ he replied, as calmly as he could.
They retraced their steps and took the spiral staircase down to the medical unit entrance. And that was where the stairs ended.
‘Oh Christ, I was afraid this might have happened.’ Ash made the effort not to sound too desperate for the sake of Delphine and Louis. ‘These stairs won’t take us any further.’
Where the staircase should have been they could now see only a pile of rubble.
‘The walls must have collapsed in the explosion,’ he said.
‘Look!’ Delphine pointed. ‘The rats. They’re heading into the medical unit. Perhaps they can lead us out of here.’
Ash went to the open medical area doorway. He quickly scanned the scene and soon realized what was wrong. Somehow, confused perhaps by the twists and turns in the dimness of the spiral staircase, they’d missed the door to the upper floor of the medical unit and had emerged lower down.
‘I think we’ve come further than we thought,’ Ash said, turning to Delphine.
She came close to him, bringing Louis with her. ‘Of course! You’re right – this is where the welcoming suites and observation rooms are. The stairs haven’t collapsed; they were never there in the first place.’
Ash gazed into the second lower level, taking in the separate fires that burned fiercely inside, melting plastic curtains where some after-care patients had been housed. Further along, the suites were all burning. The heat from the unit caused the investigator to shield his face with his lower arm, while Delphine attended to Louis, pulling up the dried-out scarf she’d wrapped around his neck and lower face. She also pulled the hood forward, for it had fallen back a little in their rush. All that could be seen now were his disturbed, shadowed eyes.
He was trembling, but so was she.
Ash suddenly spoke up, clearing smoke from his raw throat. ‘You know, I think I’ve got an idea where those vermin are heading. There is a way out from down here, though I don’t know whether it’s passable.’
Delphine’s brow was furrowed and her eyes glinted with tears from the smoke. ‘What are you talking about, David?’
‘Feel that breeze?’ he asked her. ‘See how the flames are inclined towards us? There’s a draught coming from somewhere, and I think I know where. In fact, I’m bloody sure. It’s the old smugglers’ tunnel that leads up from the sea caves.’
Even as they spoke, three large rodents scurried past them, running into the blazing area ahead.
‘They prove my point. They’re headed for the old lift shaft, where the carriage blasted through.’
‘How can you be sure? We might be running straight into disaster.’
‘Not if those rats’ natural instinct for survival is right. Rats will only desert a sinking ship if there’s somewhere for them to go, somewhere to swim to, even if it’s just a lifeboat full of sailors.’
Despite the torrid heat, Delphine shuddered. She took hold of Louis’ hand. ‘Okay, Captain Bligh. If you think we can get through those flames, we’ll certainly give it a try.’
Ash grinned at her before pulling the muffler back over his nose and mouth. ‘We have to hurry and keep low!’ Ash shouted over his shoulder. ‘We mustn’t stop for anything,’ he added. ‘See, through there, where there’s a gap between the flames. Look at the rats, see how they’re using it?’
She nodded, fearfully watching the vermin scuttling through the second basement through a corridor of fire.
‘Let’s go!’
Ash grabbed her hand and sprinted towards the clearer lane ahead, and such was the strength of his grip that she had no choice but to follow. She held Louis’ hand firmly, but he kept up with her, all three bending low once they were further into the fiery alley.
Delphine almost tripped over something lying on the ground but Ash gripped her hand tightly, as did Louis. Between them they kept her upright and resumed their journey, their clothes beginning to smoulder in the heat that licked at them from either side.
Ash kept them moving and, far from proving a hindrance, Louis helped Delphine, steadying her when her legs threatened to give way again, changing hands so that he could maintain his grip on her and help her keep her balance. The heat was becoming unbearable, but still Ash dragged them along, his body growing weaker, each step like treading through molasses, the pain in his left leg worsening. Then suddenly, the area had opened out and the fl
ames receded. Beyond, they could see the half-partitioned office cubicles, all of them deserted, all of them burning.
Their respite was due to the shaft of the larger lift. Air must have been coming down it, for somehow breathing was easier. They rested for a moment until Ash, who was bent over, hands on his knees, trying to get some oxygen into his lungs, noticed Louis’ plight: his robe was smoking badly and when Ash laid a hand on it, the material was hot to the touch. The exhausted investigator rubbed the robe down, resisting the urge to smack at the worst of the smouldering material in case he damaged the delicate skin beneath it. As Delphine recovered some of her energy, she helped him. Soon the robe, though warm to the touch, was free of threat, and they all rested, both Delphine and Louis aware that Ash would soon cajole them into running again.
It was then that Delphine noticed the naked body lying on the ground, halfway out of the lift as though he’d tried to crawl out when the doors opened. Why was he naked? The lift’s interior would have been like an oven during the descent. Perhaps he’d torn his clothes off because of that? The doors would have tried to close repeatedly as he attempted to crawl out, hitting him time and again until the mechanism had broken with the body wedged in the middle.
She pointed at the prone body and Ash looked round to see. He went over to the lift and studied the reddened corpse. The old man lay on his stomach, his head sideways on the carpeted floor. His eyes and mouth were wide open as if in mortal shock. Ash had rarely seen such a ghastly expression: it looked as though he had been frightened to death.
Inside the lift car lay a bundle of clothes that looked like torn, ragged striped pyjamas.
Ash felt Delphine by his side.
‘My God,’ she said, her words almost lost in the crackle of splitting wood and glass, and the softer crumping of the fire itself. ‘His face! It’s unrecognizable. Should we pull the body clear?’
Ash saw blood seeping out from under the man’s chest. It flowed smoothly like thick dark oil, the flames reflected in it as it pooled smoothly over the carpeted floor.
‘No, leave him as he is,’ Ash said. ‘There’s nothing we can do for him now.’
The oxygen was depleting steadily, consumed by the hungry firestorm, and the air was becoming too thin to breathe. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pack of Modafinil that Delphine had given him earlier. With shaking hands, he pressed through two tablets and popped them into his mouth. Swallowing was almost impossible without even saliva, let alone water, to wash them down. Somehow he managed, although he felt the tablets lodge somewhere in his throat.
‘David . . .’
He saw that Delphine was having trouble breathing too. She’d ducked low where just a bit more air was available.
‘You . . . you shouldn’t take . . . too many of those,’ she gasped.
‘I’m going to need them. I think . . .’ He drew a deep draught of air. ‘You should take some too.’
She shook her head and he could only shrug. He glanced at Louis to see how he was and gawped in surprise.
The prince – whom Ash could regard only as a boy, despite the fact that he was in his late twenties – was standing erect only two or three feet away. He was perfectly still and also perfectly calm. For some reason, he’d thrown back his hood, although he still wore the soft scarf loosely over his face so that only his eyes were showing beneath the perfect roundness of his bald pate, the skin only tissue-thick over the skull.
But it was those eyes that fascinated Ash, for instead of flames reflecting in them, he could now see that his almost colourless eyes had become a gentle but intensely deep azure, soft and yet barely dominating the darkness behind. There was a peace in them that was entirely out of context with their situation. Ash tried to remember where and when he’d witnessed that same blueness before, but couldn’t. It was impossible to pin down, but he was sure he’d seen eyes of that colour and expression somewhere else.
Ash rose and stood closer to him. The gentle but striking blueness in those large, enigmatic eyes immediately vanished.
Louis said, ‘We must hurry. That way.’ He pointed ahead. The inferno further along the unit appeared impossible to navigate, but since it was towards the point where Ash had intended to take them, he did not argue.
Delphine was by his shoulder again. ‘David, did you see his . . .’
‘. . . eyes? Yes. I thought it was just me. Listen, we have to go in that direction. Look behind us, the path we just took a minute or so ago.’
Delphine turned her head and saw that the section for observation and recovery was now one massive inferno, with no central path left to work their way through. She turned to look at Ash and Louis again.
‘But how can we go forward? We’re trapped.’
‘Maybe not,’ Ash replied. ‘We’re near a corner; let’s see what’s round it.’
Without another word, he pulled the cowl back over the prince’s head then, grabbing both Delphine and Louis by their elbows, he hurried them on. He had to admit to himself that he’d been about to give up until the phenomenal colour in Louis’ suddenly deep-blue eyes had somehow spurred him on. He trusted the feeling of hope it had given him.
‘No stopping for anything!’ he yelled, clear in his own mind that they had no time to waste if they were to survive.
And turning the corner, both he and Delphine gasped a dry cry of relief.
91
Ash, Delphine and Louis stood before two thick, transparent plastic doors, above which a sign announced: INTENSIVE CARE. Beyond them, the way seemed clear, the flames as yet only licking at the white-painted wall that stretched away further than they could see, its paint beginning to bubble and form peeling brown patterns.
They watched more vermin come round the corner, then turn right at the thick plastic barrier. It seemed that they were running directly into the flames that lapped at the wall separating the intensive care unit from the observation rooms. Ash moved closer and saw that a tunnel of air had been created between the wall and the flames, leaving a few inches clear at the bottom. Its torrid heat was apparently something the rats were ready to endure if it meant escape, though how the creatures knew this was beyond him. As far as he could tell, the area on the other side of the scorched wall was as yet untouched by fire, but Ash reckoned that within minutes the wall would be consumed by the flames, followed by the ward beyond.
He rushed Delphine and Louis through, elbowing aside one of the plastic doors that was already starting to melt, wrenching his jacket free as hot, sticky, plastic strands glued him to it. Mercifully, it was still sufficiently solid to mute the intensity of heat and smoke as it sprang back into position.
Ash stared down the long narrow ward with its cot beds, medical apparatus, transparent tents, and other less easily identifiable hardware, trolleys carrying cylinders of oxygen, an abandoned blood-pressure cuff lying on a chair, drip-feeds standing by evacuated beds, their contents spilling onto the floor. Further down the ward were several cots whose white sheets concealed what were obviously corpses.
It was incredibly hot in there and when he breathed a wheezing sound came from his throat. They had to move along quickly if they were to get by the fire which was threatening to engulf the ward. As he looked back to urge Delphine and Louis on, he was surprised to see them standing at a bedside.
Surely they hadn’t found a live abandoned patient? Even with the best will in the world they couldn’t hope to take anyone with them. He hurried across and peered over their shoulders.
On the cot he saw an elderly man with white hair and hollow cheeks. The dark hole of his gaping toothless mouth suggested the man was very dead indeed. Ash sincerely hoped so, for Delphine was pulling off his oxygen mask.
She handed the transparent plastic mask to Louis.
‘Take two or three deep breaths of this,’ she instructed as she inspected the oxygen cylinder nearby and made sure the gas was flowing.
Louis did as he was told and his chest rose and fell as he drew in the
pure oxygen.
‘Deeper,’ said Delphine. ‘Fill your lungs and hold it there for two or three seconds.’
Once again, the prince followed her advice.
Delphine glanced at Ash. ‘I hope you’re not squeamish,’ she said.
Ash was taken aback: the thought of using an oxygen mask taken from a dead body that had probably been diseased was pretty repulsive.
‘You’re next,’ she informed him. ‘This will make you feel much better.’ He was about to take it when he saw the exhaustion in her tender eyes.
‘After you, Delphine. You’re nearly out on your feet.’
She didn’t argue. Taking the mask from Louis, she took in at least eight deep breaths. When she’d finished and handed the mask to Ash, he saw some of the sparkle had returned to her deep brown eyes.
Ash followed suit. God, she was right. He felt more lively already. Pure oxygen was what they had all needed. But if they were to survive, they had to get moving again.
All done at six huge breaths, Ash tossed the mask onto the bed. While not quite a new man, he undoubtedly felt more spirited. Maybe the pills he’d taken were kicking in too.
‘Now we go,’ he said sternly, brooking no objections.
Together they hurried down to the far end of the ward, passing melting plastic doors on the right, smoke seeping through. What was beyond the doors at the end? he pondered as they ran, the shoulder bag banging against his hip. Well, if a bag worked for Indiana Jones, it could work for me. Ash laughed, then realized he had taken in rather too much oxygen, and too deeply. He was a little light-headed. He focused himself: What if the fire was impassable beyond the door at the end of the unit?
They would soon find out. As Louis was about to push through the double doors Ash grabbed his sleeve. He could easily make out the orange glow beyond the semi-transparent doors.
Again he elbowed one plastic door aside.
The instant rush of heat was almost overwhelming, but he saw there was space beyond to continue their escape. Urging his two companions through, he allowed the toughened plastic door to slap back into place.