*There's air blowing into here from somewhere,' he mused. *I'm guessing from outside.' He nodded in the direction of the breeze. *We should go that way. We can get out.'

Coulson looked blankly at him.

*I'll lift you,' Mason said. *Try and get up.' Even as he spoke he realised how ridiculous his words sounded. Coulson was hovering very close to unconsciousness and, for all the teacher knew, to death. The possibility of him standing up, let alone walking out of this subterranean labyrinth, was out of the question.

*I'll go on,' Mason insisted. *I'll send help. I promise.'

Coulson said nothing. His eyes were already closed.

Mason waited a moment longer, listening to the low, guttural breathing of his injured companion then he began walking.

The lighter grew hot in his hand the longer he held it and, more than once, he had to flick it off and stand still in the darkness until the metal cooled enough to allow him to use it again.

As he walked, he was becoming more and more convinced that his trek was futile. His mind was filling with one unshakeable conviction. That he would never see the surface again. That he would wander helplessly in the gloom below ground until he simply couldn't walk any longer. Then exhaustion would overtake him and finally hunger and thirst. He would, he was convinced, die in this monstrous place.

He was still considering that appalling fate when he saw the torch beam shining in his direction.

It was fifteen or twenty yards away, bright and welcoming. A beacon in the gloom.

*This way,' a familiar voice boomed, echoing off the culvert walls. *Come on.'

Mason shuffled forward.

Richard Holmes stood in the middle of the wide culvert, waving the torch back and forth.

*I told you I'd catch you up,' Holmes said, conversationally. *Come on, let's get out of here.'

80.

*How the hell did you find me?' Mason wanted to know as they struggled on.

*That's not important now,' Holmes told him. *All that matters is that we get out. Where's Coulson?'

*Back there,' Mason confessed. *He's dying. He fractured his skull when we fell.' He allowed the words to trail off.

*We can get him help.'

Mason nodded.

*It's like a maze down here,' he offered. *If you hadn't found me I'd have been dead. Andrew Latham is back there too. He's dead.'

Holmes pressed on, shining the light ahead of them along the culvert.

*I said Latham's dead,' Mason repeated.

*Let's get you out of here first,' Holmes insisted. *Tell me everything when we've reached the surface.'

*What about Kate?' Mason demanded.

Holmes didn't speak.

*Kate?' Mason persisted.

*This leads to a central hub,' Holmes told him. *It's like a sewage pipe. We can get out once we reach it. Then we can get help.'

*We found a shoe and a piece of cloth,' Mason informed the other teacher. *And there were lanterns in the tunnel above. As if someone had been down here before us. Like they were trying to leave a trail for us.'

Again Holmes remained silent.

*Not far now,' he said, finally, pointing to a curve in the pipe.

*Is Kate down here?' Mason asked, more forcefully.

*We need to get you to a doctor,' Holmes said. *Then we can call the police.'

*Richard,' Mason insisted. *Where's Kate? If she's down here I want to know. I want to know if she's safe.'

*She's fine,' Holmes told him.

*You've seen her then?'

*She'll be waiting,' Holmes assured him.

*How can you be so sure?' Mason challenged, gripping the older man's arm and dragging him back.

*Trust me,' Holmes said, flatly.

The men moved on once more. Mason was aware of light at the far end of the culvert. Welcoming yellow light that banished the darkness the closer they got to its source.

*Thank God,' Mason breathed.

The light was brighter now. So bright in fact that Mason was forced to squint when he looked towards it but, as his eyes became accustomed to the fierce white luminescence he grew aware of its source.

There were dozens of torches ahead of him. Each one held by a different person.

He noticed that one was held by Nigel Grant. The headmaster was smiling happily as he played the beam over Mason and Holmes. The others were being held by members of staff, every one of them shining the bright lights at the newcomers.

Kate Wheeler held hers too.

Holmes quickened his pace and walked across to join his colleagues, turning his own torch beam on Mason.

*What the fuck is this?' Mason murmured.

*A gathering, Peter,' Holmes told him.

*We've been waiting for you,' Nigel Grant added.

*It's like a welcome committee,' Kate Wheeler offered.

Mason shielded his eyes as he looked towards the teachers gathered in front of him.

*I don't understand,' Mason said, warily.

*We didn't think that you would,' Kate Wheeler told him.

*It isn't an easy thing to understand,' Nigel Grant added.

*And it doesn't matter that you can't fathom the reasons, Peter,' Richard Holmes added. *Some things are better left as mysteries.'

Mason took a step backwards.

*Tell me what's happening,' he called.

*This is almost over, Peter,' Kate Wheeler told him. *For us and for you. But it has to be this way.'

*We need you,' Nigel Grant told him.

*For what?' Mason gaped.

*You're not like us,' Holmes offered.*You're an outsider. You're different. You don't belong here and so you're more acceptable. More potent.'

*I don't know what the hell you're talking about,' Mason rasped.

*Does it really matter?' Nigel Grant said, a note of condescension in his voice. *You're here now, just as we intended.'

Mason looked even more vague.

*You came here because we wanted you to,' Grant continued. *To this school, to this town and to this place.'

*And now to where you stand at this very moment,' Richard Holmes added.

*Where's Simon Usher?' Mason asked, his voice catching.

Kate Wheeler laughed and the sound echoed within the subterranean chamber. It was a noise as grating as fingernails on a blackboard and it caused the hairs on the back of Mason's neck to rise. When it was joined by that of a number of others, he felt as if his ears would burst from the sound.

*What's going on?' he roared.

*I suppose it's only fair that you know,' Richard Holmes told him. *Before this is all over you'll know everything.'

*Tell me now,' Mason demanded.

Kate Wheeler moved towards him and Mason, in spite of himself, went to meet her.

She was smiling as she reached for him. Mason shook his head, wondering why she was holding a hypodermic needle in one hand.

He felt a cold pinprick in his left arm as she ran it into his muscle then stepped back.

*What's going on?' Mason babbled, his head spinning.

Kate stepped away from him. Still smiling.

He saw the lights of the torches moving closer as the watching teachers advanced upon him. Mason tried to move away but it was as if the darkness inside the tunnel had flooded into his brain. Everything before him blurred then disappeared.

He blacked out.

81.

From the smell that clogged his nostrils and the darkness around him, Mason knew that he was still underground when he woke up.

He opened his eyes slowly, aware instantly of the pain in his head and also of something clinging to his wrists and ankles. He tried to move and realised immediately that he was bound. Exactly what he was bound to he wasn't sure but, as he slowly raised his head he could see that he was firmly secured to a large wooden table, held captive by thick ropes around his ankles and wrists. More rope had been fastened around his chest then beneath the table to ensure there was no possibility of him freeing himself.

As his vision cleared a little more he could see that there were figures standing around him. He recognised three of them.

*If you untie me now I'll leave,' Mason said, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation. *I'll walk away from here. From the school, the job. Everything. I won't tell anyone what's happened here.'

No one spoke.

*This is fucking ridiculous,' Mason shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of the subterranean chamber. He strained madly against the ropes for a moment but then fell back helplessly, aware that they weren't going to budge, only too certain that he was trapped.

*Tell me what's happening,' he said, breathlessly. *Why am I here? Why are you doing this to me?'

*The obligatory explanation before the final resolution, ' Richard Holmes smiled. *Usually so necessary in great works of fiction.'

*For God's sake,' Mason sighed.

*God has very little to do with this, Peter,' Holmes continued. *Not your God.'

*Just stop talking in fucking riddles and tell me what's going on here,' Mason pleaded.

*It's hard to explain,' Holmes went on.*At least in terms that you'd understand or in words that wouldn't sound preposterous.' He sucked in a deep breath. *It probably relies on you accepting truths that, previously, you would have dismissed as idiotic. Perhaps even lunatic.'

Mason shook his head and exhaled almost painfully.

*Are you going to kill me?' he asked.

*No,' Holmes told him. *We are, or we were, instrumental in bringing you to this place which will be the site of your death but we will not physically take your life ourselves. Something else will do that.'