Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Thirty-Five

David Little felt the vibrations and heard the noise moments before the others. It came from where they had entered earlier.

The men working on the concrete stopped and watched as the trickle of water grew in a stream. In less than a minute, it covered their footwear.

The thought of drowning filled David's mind. He turned and ran at his best speed towards the ladder and the way out.

Twelve men followed. The man who worked on the drain cover overtook David, laughing. "I know where you're going, old man."

The level rose fast, and knee-deep water made it difficult to run. When it reached waist height, debris struck men's legs. They stumbled and fell into the black, wild flowing water. The strength of the current grabbed and tossed them like corks in a storm.

In the pitch dark, bodies hit bodies, arms and legs thrashed uselessly. As the depth increased, so did the speed. Those able to surf the flood floated on their backs and feet first careered through the drain. Now and then, they would strike the sides, the rough contact shredding his clothes. The more fortunate surfaced, bloodied, coughing and spluttering.

David held both arms out and prayed he could grab the escape ladder's rungs. And then came the impact as his chest smashed into the steel uprights. A scream erupted from his mouth as his ribs broke and pierced his lungs. The water flow gripped and spun him like a child's top, dragging him under. He fought to find the surface, but the wild torrent swept him further into the endless dark. Something hard struck him, but he no longer cared. In pain, the current turned him around. A body collided with him, and as he pushed it away, his hand touched the top of the drain.

The realisation dawned that the drain was becoming his grave. Less than a foot separated the rising water from the curved roof. Small creatures crawled over David's head, and more returned when he brushed them away. There was still space. He gulped at the foul air, ignoring the pain in his chest as the rush of liquid dragged him along. The urge to survive overpowered his sense of helplessness, but numbness crept across his brain. One moment of clarity when he felt his heart hammering against his ribs. A lack of oxygen forced him to breathe, but only the dank water filled his lungs. His mind started to shut down life-sustaining systems. No longer could he feel the cold.

When the water level touched the roof, the speed increased. At the end of the drain, the deluge entered a large circular pool where the current slowed before it mixed with the sea. A tidal flap valve that once prevented the ingress of seawater had disappeared long ago. Only the remnants of the metal grill remained.

Unseen, the ragged ends of steel bars protruding from the brickwork snagged the corpses, destroying flesh.

Tonight, a flood tide gently pushed the dead into the harbour.

***

The following morning a woman walking her dog around the harbour stopped while her pet sniffed a concrete post. When she peered into the port, her scream was primal and had the intensity of despair.

From his house, a man wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, ran towards the troubled woman 

He grabbed her and asked,  "What's wrong."

She pointed.

"Oh my god. Come to my house. The wife will make you a cup of tea while I call the police."

Shaking, he guided the woman into the kitchen of his home.

"What's wrong, you like you've seen a ghost?" his wife asked.

He frowned. "I wish I had."