The Source by Brian Lumley

Litve still had Khuv’s keys. He took them from a pocket and handed them over. Luckily, Khuv hadn’t thrown the Failsafe key away with the others down in the mortuary. Now the Major turned the key in the lock, pushed the door open – and at once gasped and stepped back!

Luchov stood there, eyes bulging, veins pulsing in the seared half of his head, aiming the hot muzzle of a flamethrower straight into Khuv’s straining face. ‘God!’ he gasped, lowering the weapon to point at the floor. ‘It is you!’ He staggered back, collapsed into his swivel chair in front of the TV screens.

He was a wreck. A trembling, panting, completely terrified wreck. Khuv carefully took the flame-thrower from him, said: ‘What happened, Viktor?’

Luchov gulped, started to talk. As he proceeded some of the wild, frightened look went out of his eyes. ‘After you left, I … I started to phone. Half the lines were out. But I got the guards on the entrance, in the ravine, and told them about Agursky. Then I got through to half-a-dozen other numbers, too, and passed on the message. I said everyone should evacuate, but as quietly as possible. Then it dawned on me how crazy that was. Agursky was out there somewhere and he’d see them leaving. He’d know the game was up and God only knows what he’d do! I managed to raise the military and told them to see to the evacuation, also to hunt Agursky down. I said the phones were out of order and that they should alert all the people I couldn’t reach. I spoke to everyone I could, but so far I haven’t been able to reach the core.’

Khuv and Litve glanced at the screens. All looked normal down there; faces were strained and nervous, but there was no sign of any unusual activity. ‘What about Agursky?’ Khuv asked. ‘Did he come here?’

Again Luchov gulped. ‘God, yes! He came, knocked on the door, said he had to speak to me. I told him I couldn’t let him in. He said he knew I knew about him and he could explain. He said if I didn’t let him in he would do something terrible. I said if I did I knew he’d kill me. Then he said that he knew we planned to burn him, but that he was going to burn us – all of us! In the end he went away; but I thought: if he kills any one of the Failsafe Duty Officers, and takes his key . . .

‘I had an automatic, but I knew that those two dead soldiers hadn’t been able to stop him with their guns. So I waited a little while, sneaked out and took the nearest flame-thrower. I came back and just as I was letting myself in . . .oh, Jesus..”

‘He showed up?’ Khuv took the other’s elbow.

‘Yes,’ Luchov nodded, gulped. ‘But you should see him, Khuv! It’s not Agursky. 1 don’t know what it is, but it isn’t him!’

All three men exchanged glances. ‘How do you mean, “not him”?’ Litve asked, sure that he wouldn’t like the answer.

‘His face!’ Luchov’s lips trembled and he shook his head disbelievingly. ‘It’s all wrong; and his head, the wrong shape. The way he moves – like a great sly animal. Anyway, he came at me at the run, loping toward me. He didn’t have his dark glasses on and his eyes were red as blood, 1 swear it! I got inside, slammed the door and somehow managed to turn the key. And outside … he was a madman! He raved and threatened, hammered on the door. But eventually he went away again.’

Khuv shuddered. The whole thing was like a nightmare, getting worse all the time. Then Luchov’s phone rang, causing all three men to start violently. Khuv reached the phone first, snatched it from its cradle. ‘Yes?’

‘Corporal Grudov, at the entrance, sir,’ an excited, tinny voice sounded. ‘Agursky, he was here!’

‘What?’ Khuv crouched over the phone. ‘Did you see him? Have you killed him?’

‘We shot at him, sir, but kill him? I’m sure we must have hit him, but he seemed to ignore us! So we went after him with a flame-thrower.’