Free Bats Out of Hell by Guy N Smith

ineffective. They all recalled the freak summer of 1976, but this one threatened to break all records. Farmers were forecasting disastrous potato crops again. Fire brigades were at full stretch in an attempt to combat heath and forestry fires. Yet, suddenly, all these had become of minor importance.
    Copies of every daily newspaper for the past week lay spread out on the desk. The headlines bore a similarity as the Fleet Street prophets of doom revelled in the latest sensations. "BATS FROM HELL SPREAD KILLER DISEASE", "SCHOOL QUARANTINE AS PLAGUE AND MADNESS STRIKE", "DEATH VIRUS ESCAPES FROM RESEARCH CENTER", and so on. The accounts varied. Some followed the truth religiously, others exaggerated. The man in the street would believe that which he chose to believe. In all, fear would predominate.
    Haynes regarded Brian Newman, Professor Rickers and Susan Wylie steadily. He fidgeted with his spectacles, and chewed his lower lip.
    "It seems you were right, Brian." He averted his eyes as he spoke. He wasn't accustomed to making apologies, nor to admitting that he was wrong. "I owe you an apology."
    "Thanks." Newman said. He could have made it tougher for his chief, but he had no wish to do so. The situation now was far too serious for either of them to indulge in petty jealousies.
    Rickers shuffled his feet and mumbled. "I still can't believe it. It's just not scientifically possible."
    "Well, it's happened, and that's that." Haynes spoke sharply. "And right now we've got to do something about putting it right. How have your tests gone, Brian? Is an antidote possible?"
    "Not at the moment." Newman shook his head gravely. "I injected a fresh lot of bats, but they died in just the same way. I tried taking germs from those which appeared to be immune and injecting the virus into the sufferers. They died. It had no effect."
    "Hell!" Haynes lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. "The Press are really gunning for us now. So are our own boys in London. We're the villains of the piece."
    " I am," Professor Newman corrected him. "It was my fault that the bats escaped, I was careless enough to knock the cage over." He noticed Susan blush and start to say something, but his frown silenced her. "It's got to come out, anyway, and I'm prepared to take full responsibility."
    "Let's get a few facts together first," Haynes said, "working from the information we already have. By now a large percentage—it's impossible to quote figures—of bats are carrying the virus. Those which they come into contact with either catch it, and die within a very short time, or else they become carriers themselves. Hence the disease will spread at an alarming rate. It is reasonable to assume, in the light of recent information, that the bats were responsible for the death of the Williams' family and that they caused the horses to bolt on to the road. Therefore the Wooden Stables were their first home after their escape. Then they vanished. Was it because they were disturbed? Let us assume so. Then for some time they disappeared altogether, presumably to some quiet place. The main bunch, anyway. They chose the upper regions of Lichfield Cathedral's main spire. They were disturbed again, this time by a firm of contractors working on the spire. They came into contact with schoolboys and a headmaster. The headmaster and six boys died horribly from this meningitis type disease within three days. But nobody else . Consequently we can assume, at this point, that humans do not carry the disease. They only catch it directly from the bats. Therefore, the bats are the real menace. If you keep out of their way you're safe, unless of course you meet up with someone in the 'mad' stage of the disease. Williams killed his wife, and that schoolboy murdered the head boy. But can the virus be carried by animals or birds, rats, mice, starlings, all the scavengers, for instance?"
    "That we don't know yet," Professor Newman answered. The greatest danger could be from