Suddenly the relaxed atmosphere changed completely. We both froze. Something
was wrong; some primeval sense kicked in and the adrenaline started to rush.
I quietly walked further into the room, away from the door. Tom remained motionless.
Our ears strained but all we could hear was the deafening silence. Quietly, and as
quickly as we could muster, water was packed away along with cameras and tripods.
Bags were zipped. We were ready to run, but were cornered as this small room only had one exit.
If you were to ask me, I’d have sworn I’d heard muffled bangs and voices; as if someone had
come through the door at the end of the "brown corridor". And, if there was someone there,
they probably heard us as well, as both groups lapsed into silence and stillness. Now
it was a waiting game. If it was security, they’d have been more brazen and come straight
up. Another group of explorers on hearing noises would’ve probably decided to get away
themselves. So, thinking that was the most likely outcome, Tom and I quickly conferred.
“Let’s get out of here. Make a bit of noise. Hopefully frighten the others off.”
The view from the southern Air House office.
03|03|07 © Simon Cornwell 2007
"The large wooden building to the south of the Air House with the
fans on the roof is the cooling tower for the Air House compressors fed by the two huge concrete pipes
running north/south below ground level. If you look carefully in late spring/summer you will find Pyramidal Orchids
growing on the waste ground to the west of the towers; they grew there because it was bathed in 30 centigrade mist
all the time the compressors were running - ideal environment for them" - Ric Canham