Scorpion [Scorpions 01] (21 page)

    Allan glanced up at the roof of the building. A figure was standing there, looking down at him. It was the man Allan had spoken to over the radio, one of Duncan’s sergeants. The man raised an arm and gave the thumbs-up sign. Allan took a deep breath.

    ‘Let it go!’ he said to the driver.

    As the driver released the valve the hose rippled along its length. There was an audible whoosh from inside the building, rising for long seconds as the pressurized liquid-oxygen found its way of escape through the long hose. Curling tendrils of white, milky vapor drifted out of the open windows and the dirty glass suddenly turned frosty. A few panes shattered, glass tinkling to the ground.

    ‘You want me to release it all?’ the driver asked.

    Allan nodded without hesitation. This either worked or it failed. He was determined to give it all he had.

    The driver opened the valve fully and let the contents of the tanker gush out. After what seemed an eternity he began to close his switches.

    ‘That’s it, mate. The lot!’

    Allan nodded and walked quickly to the parked vehicle where the others waited. The door opened as he neared it and Chris came running to him.

    Well?’ she asked.

    ‘Let’s go and have a look.’

    The others followed in silence. There was no way they could see inside the building because all the windows were covered in a thick white frost on the inside. Duncan and Allan pushed open the double doors. A rush of chilled air blew in their faces. They stepped inside the entrance hall. The liquid-oxygen had billowed down the length of the building, even as far as where they were now standing, and they could see the effect it had created.

    White frost lay everywhere, clinging to the walls and the exposed dangling pipes of half-dismantled plumbing. It crunched beneath their feet as they stepped carefully over piles of rubble. Emerging into the pool area itself was almost like entering a silent, white arctic cavern. Pale spumes of vapor still drifted in the cold air, over everything lay a thick crust of brittle whiteness.

    Allan walked to the edge of the pool and glanced in. The scorpions had layered the bottom of the empty pool, covering the tiled surface with their hard, dark bodies, probably pushing and fighting with each other as they savored the embracing warmth rising up from the heated pool. Now they were bonded together in a rigid mass, bodies instantly frozen solid as the liquid-oxygen had erupted from the hose in a cloud of foggy whiteness. It was hard to define their individual shapes, save for the odd one which had been caught in the act of rearing up, pincered claws raised towards the high roof of the building; it had been immobilized in that almost defiant act, frozen solid in a threatening, angry pose.

    ‘How long will it hold them?’ Duncan asked.

    ‘Hours,’ Allan said, and realized the meaning behind Duncan’s question. ‘What do we do with them?’ He grinned, almost shyly. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead.’

    ‘May I make a suggestion?’ Camperly offered. ‘While they’re here in the pool, they can be completely disposed of.’

    Duncan glanced at him. ‘How?’

    ‘Spray them with…’ he thought for a moment. ‘Yes… that would do it… sulfuric acid. A highly concentrated dose will simply dissolve them.’

    ‘Can it be done?’ Duncan asked.

    Allan nodded. ‘Yes. There are a number of chemical firms with the capabilities to deliver and utilize the stuff. If I remember correctly there’s one fairly close. They could have it here in an hour or so - and the people to do the job. I’ll go and set it up.’

    He took one last look into the pool and its grim occupants before he hurried out of the building to make his call.

    

    

    ‘With the threat of the scorpions removed, the town of Long Point, and its people, begin the return to normality. And at this moment in time we end our film report and turn to our guest in the studio… Doctor Andrew Camperly, Head of the Tropical Diseases Research Unit at the Greenbank Hospital…’

    The aerial view of Long Point held for a moment and then dissolved to a live studio shot of Camperly seated next to the interviewer. Camperly was in his element - the golden boy of the hour. He had neatly stepped in and stolen the glory from Allan. Not that Allan was bothered. He was glad it was over. It meant he could return to his work and Chris. The relationship had developed almost of its own volition, though neither of them had complained - Allan least of all. When Chris had suggested he move into the cottage with her, it had seemed the logical thing to do - as she had pointed out, there was plenty of room and she did possess the bigger bed. So it was together that they sat and watched Camperly’s euphoric image appear on the screen of the portable television…

    ‘We’ve seen the film, Doctor Camperly. We have the closure of the Long Point Nuclear Plant and we have the assurance of the authorities that the scorpions have all been destroyed. Can the public stop worrying now? Are they safe from further attacks by these creatures?’

    Camperly turned his gaze on the camera. ‘I think I can safely say that the threat is over. Constant checks are still being carried out to ensure that we have in fact removed the possibility of anything recurring…’

    ‘Can’t we forget all that for a while?’ Chris asked, sliding down off the couch to join Allan on the floor beside the fire.

    He glanced at her, smiling. ‘Why? Have you something in mind?’

    She whispered in his ear.

    ‘I was warned about women like you at a very early age,’ he said.

    ‘Oh, and what effect did it have?’

    Allan drew her to him. ‘It made me grow up very fast,’ he said.

    His concentration was drawn from the television, though he caught one of Camperly’s soothing assurances… ‘I’m certain we’ve seen the last of them…’ A shadowed image rose briefly in his mind, fragmented and dark; it brought back a memory of what he’d seen in that underground chamber.

    ‘We’re all going to look damn silly if he’s wrong and they do show up again!’ Allan said.

    ‘What show up?’ Chris asked as she drew him down to the soft carpet.

    ‘Oh… nothing,’ Allan said. He didn’t want her to know what he was thinking. He just hoped none of them ever had to think about scorpions again.