Domain by James Herbert

eyes feel?'
    Culver asked him.
    'Bloody sore, but not as bad as before. The stinging is slowly fading.'
    Culver nodded and pointed the beam straight into his face.
    'Can you see anything at all?'
    Dealey blinked. 'No. It hurt even more for a moment, though. Did you shine the light at me?'
    'Straight into the pupils. They shrank.'
    'It could mean nothing.'
    Yeah, keep up the pessimism. Grab my shoulder, and keep your left side against the wall; we're going down.'
    The air was cool, clammy, in the tunnel, and they could see the emergency lights stretching one after the other into the blackness, their dim glow barely making an impression. It felt to Culver as if they were descending into a void, an emptiness that was itself threatening. Perhaps it was just the unnatural stillness after the turmoil above; or that he felt an unseen presence, eyes watching him from the shadows. Perhaps his nerves were just stretched to breaking point. Perhaps.
    The tunnel curved slightly, the single chain of lights ahead disappearing. The dim glow from the platform behind vanished as they rounded the curve, leaving them in total isolation. Their footsteps echoed hollowly around the arched walls.
    Culver noticed there were gaps in the wall to his right; he shone the beam in that direction and light reflected back from another set of tracks.

'I can see another tunnel,' he told Dealey, his voice strangely loud in the confines of the shaft.
    'It must be the westbound. Keep your torch to the right -I'd hate to miss the shelter.'
    Dealey's weight dragged against him now and he knew the man was near to exhaustion. His eyes must have hurt like hell and the mental agony of not knowing if he was permanently blinded couldn't have helped much. Again, he wondered who the man was and how he knew about the shelter. Obviously he—
    Something had moved in the darkness ahead. He'd heard it. A scurrying sound.
    Why have you stopped?' Dealey was clenching his arm tightly.
    'I thought I heard something.'
    'Can you see anything?'
    He swung the torch around in a wide arc. 'Nothing.'
    They went on, their pace quickened despite the tiredness that dragged at them, their senses acutely aware, a sudden, awful foreboding growing within. Culver frantically searched for the opening, the doorway that would lead them to safety. There were recesses in the wall, but none held the magic door.
    Surely they must be near. They'd walked more than eight hundred yards. It felt like eight miles. They had to find it soon. Jesus, let them find it soon.
    He fell. Something was lying across the line. Something that had tripped him.
    'Culver!' Dealey shouted, suddenly alone. He stumbled forwards, arms outstretched, sightless eyes wide, and he, too, fell over the something that lay across the line.
    His hands touched metal and quickly recoiled. At least they were now certain of one thing; there was no power in

the line. His hands scrabbled around in the darkness. Felt something. Soft. Sticky soft, a head, a face.
    'Culver? Are you all right?'
    His guide's voice came from further away. 'Don't move, Dealey. Don't touch any more.'
    But it was too late. His groping fingers had found the eyes. But there were no eyes. Just deep, viscous sockets that sucked at his fingers as he withdrew them. He fell back and his hand touched something else. It was warm, and it was abhorrent. It was something slippery and it belonged inside a body, not outside.
    'Keep still!' Culver's voice commanded again.
    Dealey's throat was too constricted to allow speech.

    Culver, lying sprawled across the outer track, shone the flashlight around them. Bodies littered the tunnel. Black shapes moved among them, feeding off them.
    They crouched, eluding the beam. Or scuttled away, back into the shadows.
    'Oh, no, I don't believe it.' Culver's voice was a moan.
    Tell me what's there, Culver. Please tell me.'
    'Keep still. Just don't move for a moment'
    Slowly, very slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. The light