‘Yes, we know, Mr Harris,’ the doctor stepped forward and leaned on the desk, his eyes looking intently at the stunned teacher. ‘That’s why we asked you to come along.
You brought the boy here yesterday. Perhaps you could tell us how and where he received the bite?’
‘But you can’t die just from a bite. And in one day?’
Harris shook his head at the three men, ignoring the doctor’s question.
Tunstall spoke up, putting the papers finally to one side.
‘No, it seems impossible, doesn’t it? A post mortem is already being carried out to see if Keogh was suffering from any other illness at the time. We thought possibly the bite may have acted as some kind of catalyst for a hidden disease carried by the boy. But we’ve virtually discounted that theory now, although we’re still checking it out. You see, a woman was brought in yesterday too–you may have read about it in the papers; her child was killed by rats–and she was herself attacked by them in an attempt to save her daughter. She died two hours ago.’
‘But that means anyone who comes in contact with the rats and gets bitten by one...’ before Harris could finish, Foskins interrupted.
‘Yes, Mr Harris. Once a person has been bitten, they have about twenty-four hours to live. That’s why it’s essential to learn as much as possible about these particular rats. They’re obviously an unknown species, unknown to us inEnglandanyway. From what we’ve heard, their sheer size is quite extraordinary...’
‘We want to know everything the boy told you of’ the incident,’ said Tunstall impatiently.
‘Yes, of course,’ Harris nodded. ‘But how did they die?
What did they die of?’ He looked at each of the three men in turn. The room filled with an uneasy silence.
Finally, the doctor cleared his throat and looked at the group secretary. ‘I think it’s only fair that we take Mr Harris into our confidence. I think we can trust him to be discreet, and he may be able to help us if he knows this area well.’
‘I was born here. I know most of this region–and I know exactly where Keogh saw his rats.’
‘Very well’sighed Tunstall. ‘But understand, you must not repeat anything said in this room to anybody.
We’re not sure what we’re up against yet, and until we are, we must treat it with the utmost discretion.
We don’t want people to panic over something that may only be a rare occurrence.’
‘Like six tramps being eaten alive,’ interjected Harris.
‘Yes, yes, Mr Harris, we know it’s a bit frightening,’ said Foskins quickly. ‘But we don’t want people panicking do we? I mean, the first thing to suffer would be the docks, wouldn’t it? Heaven knows, the dockers don’t need much excuse to stay away from work so just think of what this sort of scare could do. And if foodstuff were left to rot in the warehouses and ships, what then? The whole waterfront would be infested within a few days. Vicious circle, Mr Harris, vicious circle.’
The teacher remained silent.
‘Look, we’ll probably overcome this problem before anything else occurs,’ Tunstall leaned forward, pointing a finger at Harris. ‘Now your help isn’t essential, but if you do want to assist us you must agree to silence.’
What brought that on wondered Harris. He must be really worried. ‘All right,’ he shrugged. ‘I just want to know how Keogh and the woman died.’
‘Of course,’ smiled Doctor Strackley, trying to break the icy atmosphere. ‘The deaths were mused by an infection introduced by the bite of the rat into the bloodstream. The usual disease mused by the vermin is calledWeil’s Disease , Leptrospirosis or Spirochoetal Jaundice. We only have about ten or eleven cases of this a year in this country–it’s that rare. The organism that causes it, Leptospira Ictero haemorrhagae, is carried by rats and conveyed to man in their urine, either through the skin or alimentary tract. It’s an occupational hazard to workers in sewers. Incubation period is from seven to thirteen days; onset of the disease is abrupt fever, muscular pains, loss of appetite and vomiting.
The feverish stage lasts several days before jaundice appears and the patient becomes prostrate.
Temperature usually declines in about ten days but relapses tend to occur. We often treat the disease by penicillin and other antibiotics but we do have a special serum for it. Trouble is, it’s rarely diagnosed as Weil’s Disease in time to use it.
‘Right, so that’s the disease we know about. Now, the incredible thing about last night’s two cases is that the whole process happened within twenty-four hours.’ He paused, as if for effect. ‘There are other differences too.’
He looked at Tunstall, silently seeking permission to carry on. Tunstall nodded.
‘The fever strikes within five or six hours. Jaundice sets in immediately. The victim rapidly loses all his senses – sight goes first. The body goes into a coma, occasionally being racked by violent-spasms. Then, the most horrible thing happens. The skin–by now completely yellow – becomes taut. It becomes thinner as it stretches over the bone structure. It turns to a fine tissue. Finally, it begins to tear. Gaping holes appear all over the body. The poor victim dies a terribly painful death, which even our strongest drugs seem only to ease a little.’
The three men remained silent as the knowledge sought entry into Harris’s numbed brain. ‘Poor Keogh,’
he finally said.
‘Yes, and God help anybody else who gets bitten,’ said Tunstall, almost impatiently. ‘Now, before anything else happens, we’re getting the Ratkill people in. They’re a good company and very discreet.
They’re investigating the bombsite and the woman’s home this morning and if you can tell us where the boy was bitten, we’ll get them to have a look around that area too.’
Harris told them about the old canal that Keogh had been using as a short cut. ‘Look, let me take some of the exterminators down there, I can show them the exact spot.’
‘Yes,’ said Foskins, ‘we’re going along to the churchyard now to see how they’re getting on. You can come along and then take some of their chaps off to the canal. I’ll have to ring the school first.’
‘All right, but not a word to anyone about this. Just say the hospital needs you for a statement. Now when you do go back to your school we’d like you to ask your pupils if they’ve seen any rats recently, and if so, where. Also, if they’re bitten by anything–anything at all–they’re to go straight to the hospital.
If you can tell this without frightening them, we’d appreciate it.’
‘It would take more than that to’ frighten my bunch,’ smiled Harris.
‘I think it was around here,’ Harris told the one Ratkill man he’d been allowed to take away from the chaotic and gruesome churchyard scene. He and the rodent exterminator, a quiet little man whose thin, pointed face, Harris mused, was not far off resembling the creature he was paid to obliterate, were now standing before a high brick wall.
‘The canal’s on the other side,’ said Harris. ‘If we walk down a bit, we’ll come to railings, and unless it has changed now, there’ll be a few openings.’
As they walked the little man, whose name was Albert Ferris, lost some of his reserve and slight wariness of Harris’s profession and began to talk to the teacher.
‘I’ve never seen anything like that place this morning, you know. I’ve been at this game for fifteen years and never seen anything like it.Blood, and bits of bodies, all over the place.
Terrible. But no rats. None dead, you know. Those poor old buggers couldn’t have known what hit them. Mind you, they were probably all well gone on that stuff they drink, all well boozed. But all the same, you’d have thought at least one of them would have got out of it. Or killed some of the rats anyway.’ He shook his head. ‘Beats me.’
‘I’ve never heard of rats actually attacking people for food before,’ said Harris, to keep the man talking.
He was deter-mined to learn as much as possible about the situation. He didn’t know why, but the uneasiness he fel
t went deeper than the natural abhorrence of the shocking tragedy.
‘No, they don’t as a rule,’ Ferris replied. ‘Not in this country anyway. You see rats are very, very cautious. They can live on practically anything and they certainly wouldn’t attack just for flesh, you know.
Corpses, yes. They’d eat corpses. But attack a man just for food? No. But, what puzzled us this morning was some of the spoors we found.
Twice as large as normal rats’ droppings. We’ve sent them off to the lab to have them analysed, but what they obviously suggest is very large rats. And now, if London’s started breeding a colony of bigger-than-average rats–and you know how fast they breed–well, I reckon we’re in for a lot of bother. And if they’re attacking people...’ He shook his head again.
‘Just how fast do they breed, in fact?’ asked the teacher.
‘The female can have from five to eight litters a year, with anything from four to twelve in a litter. Then the randy buggers are at it again after a couple of hours. I don’t much fancy mobs of them big ones roaming around.’ Nor did Harris. They came to the railings and found an opening.
‘Look,’ Harris said to Ferris, ‘you know we’re only looking for signs of these creatures–we don’t actually want to catch any.’
‘Don’t worry, mate, I’m not going to tangle with them.’
Assured he was on no crusade mission with the little man, Harris led the way through the gap. They slowly began to walk back towards the starting point of the wall, keeping a wary eye for any small movement.
Ferris was the first to see them. He’d been scrutinising the far bank, looking for any dark holes, groups of droppings, anything at all, when his gaze fell upon three moving objects in the dark waters. Against the dark brown muddy canal water could be seen three small, black heads gliding in the opposite direction to which they were walking.
‘Look,’ he pointed excitedly. ‘Three of them.’
Harris looked across to where Ferris was pointing. He saw the three black shapes instantly, their perfect triangular formation causing smooth water-trails behind them. ‘All right, let’s follow them.’ ‘They seem to know where they’re going!’ Harris called back to the little rat-killer, who was having a hard time keeping up with him.
Suddenly, the dark creatures emerged from the water and scurried up the bank. For the first time, the two men could see the whole of their bodies.
‘Christ, they’re enormous,’ exclaimed Harris.
‘I’ve never seen any that size before,’ Ferris said, open-mouthed. ‘We’d better keep clear of them for the moment, mate. We don’t want to,er , excite them.’
‘We’ll have to try to follow them,’ said Harris firmly.
‘They may lead us to their lair.’
As he spoke, the leading rat stopped and turned his head towards them. The other two froze and did the same.
Harris would never forget the horror he felt under the gaze of the three pairs of sharp, wicked-looking eyes. It wasn’t just their size, or natural repulsion of vermin that numbed him. It was because they didn’t run, or try to hide.
There was no sign of panic. Just three still bodies, malevolently watching the two men, as though deciding whether to swim across to them or go on their way. Harris knew if there was any hint of the foul creatures making towards them, he would not hesitate to run as fast as his legs would carry him. He guessed when Ferris’ hand gripped his arm that the rat-killer had the same idea.
But the rats suddenly turned and disappeared through a hole in the old wooden fence that protected that side of the canal from public property.
‘Thank Gawd for that.’ Ferris exhaled a deep mouthful of air. And then, when he’d recovered slightly;
‘What’s over there?’
Harris thought for a moment, trying to recollect the surrounding area. ‘Well, there’s a bit of wasteland -
we can see the undergrowth from here–and then there’s . . .‘ He scratched his cheek and pondered.
‘Oh, no. Flats. There’s blocks of flats behind the waste. Fortunately most of the kids will be at school although some may be coming home for dinner around this time. My guess is that the rats are making for the big rubbish bins that belong to the flats. We’ll have to get around there fast, just in case.’
As he was about to run along the iron fence on their side of the canal to find an opening, his eyes caught more movement in the water. This time coming from the opposite direction of the first three, he saw a bigger group of black shapes gliding through the water. He registered at least seven before he began running after Ferris, whose reaction to the fear-some pack was immediate.
As he ran, Harris glanced back to see the furry, wet bodies scurrying through the same hole in the fence that the other three had used.
When the two shaken men reached the road once again,
Harris pulled the little exterminator to a halt.
‘Look, get on to the police,’ he said, his lungs gasping for air. ‘Get them to contact your people and get them over here as fast as possible. I’m going around to the flats, you follow when you’ve phoned.
There’s a small road bridge across the canal not far in that direction, so follow me as fast as possible, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to come up against that lot on my own!’
‘Look, mate, rats are my business,’ Ferris answered back fiercely. ‘You go get the police. I’ll find out where they’re going to and I’ll know how to handle them when I do. I’m no hero, but it’s bloody commonsense, ain’t it?’
Without waiting for a reply, the little man set off at a jogging pace.
Who’s arguing? thought Harris to himself and began to look around for a phone box.
The rats sped swiftly through the undergrowth, joined now by groups of the smaller variety. They reached another wooden fence that separated the council tenements from the wasteland. They flowed under through its many gaps and made towards the large waste-disposal bunkers that stood at the bottom of each block of flats. Food and litter of all kinds were emptied down the chutes from all floors of the block by its residents into a huge round bin that was cleared by the council’s sanitation department each week. Many a family pet was buried in this way when their lives ended either by accident or from old age. Potato peelings, egg-shells, stale food, paper, anything that could fit into the chute was disposed of in this way, and allowed to mix and rot for a week before being emptied into and then churned up by the grinding dust-cart. By the end of the week the smell was always abominable and residents warned their young to stay away from the rotting doors of the bunkers.
It was the first time a large group of rats had visited the site during the day. Usually there were too many children laughing, screaming, fighting, making noise because of the sheer delight of making noise, for the people-shy beasts. The night was their ally.
But now they had a new boldness. Led by the bigger, blacker rats, a species that had suddenly appeared amongst them, to dominate and intimidate, they had found a new courage. Or at least, a new driving force.
So far unseen they sped along the walls of the buildings in single file until they reached a bunker where many nights before, they had gnawed holes in the doors to provide access for their ever-hungry bodies.
They hurriedly passed through and then into the holes, again made by themselves, beneath the vast cylinder of rubbish, and so into the heap itself, gnawing, eating anything that could be chewed.
The big rats were the first to know it was there. Somebody had deposited their weekend joint into the chute. Perhaps it had been rotten, perhaps a husband, tired of being chastised for not being home from the pub on time for his Sunday lunch had thrown the whole joint away in a fit of rage: But there it was, and the rats’ lust for meat was aroused to a frightening degree.
The smaller rats tried to get at the meat, but were instantly killed and then devoured by their superiors.
Ferris heard the squeals of the lesser rats as he ran past the bunker. He stopped dead and listened in
tently, his sharp little face turned to one side. Then he realised where the noise was coming from.
Slowly, and very quietly he walked towards the seemingly solid doors. The smell of stale food assured him of the worst. He spotted the holes at the bottom of the doors and carefully got down on one knee.
He listened again. Silence, now. He cautiously lowered his head towards the larger of the black holes and tried to peer into the dark-ness. Nothing moved. He was down on both knees now, his right ear almost touching the ground.
The huge rat flew out at him without warning and bit deep into the flesh of his cheek. Ferris screamed and fell back, beating wildly at the creature on his face. With all his strength he pulled the rat away from him, tearing a gaping hole in his cheek, but he couldn’t hold the powerful, wriggling body and it fell upon him once more. The other rodents came streaming through the holes at the little man, whose screaming had started to bring people to their doors and windows.
When the residents saw the white overalled figure on the floor, surrounded and covered with dark, furry bodies, they could not quite believe what was happening. Some, once they realised, slammed their doors, and for some reason bolted them, as though they thought the strange creatures could pick locks. Others -
they were mostly women, their husbands being at work–screamed or fainted. Some who had phones, rang for the police. Many just stared in horror-struck silence. One old pensioner, a stout but active woman, ran forward brandishing a broom above her head. She brought it down heavily on the nearest bodies to her, these being the smaller rats on the outer fringes of the circle around the struggling man. As they scattered, a larger rat stopped its gorging and turned a menacing eye towards her.
The first phone box Harris found had been wrecked by vandals. Knowing other boxes in the area would probably have been tampered with, he decided to waste no more time but to try the nearest shop or pub.
He founda tobacconists and hastily asked the proprietor permission to phone for the police. The shopkeeper was a trifle wary at first but the teacher’s earnestness convinced him that the young man was on the level.