.
Nausea churned her stomach and she pressed her body against the rungs while she steadied herself.
She’d just take a look. That’s all.
Finally the hole spit her out into a dimly lit tunnel, concrete and brick, pipes snaking alongside. Steam hissed. Valves cranked.Water slushed. She stepped off the last rung and put her foot into water, jerking it back and almost losing her balance.
Of course there would be water down here. What was she thinking?
A steady trickle soaked the bottom half of her leather flats, but she was relieved to have some space.
Two feet above her head a maze of monster pipes hung from the ceiling. The concrete walls swallowed any sound from above the street and replaced it with drips and gurgles and the swishing of water. Air hissed and Maggie could feel bursts of steam. Somewhere overhead metal clanked and scraped as valves opened and closed.
She told herself it wasn’t any different from a big furnace room. Pretend it’s not twenty feet underground. Pretend there are no moving vehicles and brick buildings right on top of you .
Incandescent bulbs lit the tunnel in front of her. Two others branched off to the left and to the right but those remained dark. Maggie’s fingers found the butt of her gun. She waited. And listened.
Her first impulse was to follow the brightly lit tunnel. But isn’t that what he’d expect her to do? Did he know the tunnel system well enough to use the darkened routes? Despite the twists and turns, she’d probably be able to see illumination if he was using a flashlight down one of those pitch-black tunnels.
Maybe he didn’t expect her to follow him down. Maybe he expected her to do the sensible thing, like wait for backup. Only now did she realize the wheeze she kept hearing was actually her own breathing. She tried holding her breath. Listened again. She could hear a faint echo of footsteps walking away from her, down the lighted tunnel.
She started to follow, slipping her gun out of its holster. She stayed close to the concrete wall, pressing against it in places to keep from touching the pipes and to avoid dripping water. She stopped before every bend, holding her breath and listening. She planted her feet, making sure they didn’t slip. Cringed when she saw the greasy water getting deeper. Damn! It was starting to seep inside her shoes.
But she could hear him up ahead, the thump of a steady pace. He was walking. Not running. He didn’t know she was behind him.
She paid little attention to how many corners she turned. She followed the lighted tunnel, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Something black in the water moved across her foot. Maggie stifled a gasp and kicked out her leg. The toe of her shoe caught the rat under its belly and flung it away.
Rats. Of course there’d be rats .
She took a couple of deep breaths, despite the smells that were getting more rancid. Then she started forward again.
A sudden pop behind her echoed through the tunnel.
A valve switching on? A pipe bursting? She couldn’t tell. She ignored it. Took another step. Another pop. This time she noticed the light behind her dim. Just as she glanced back, the third pop she recognized. Incandescent bulbs made a sound like that when they broke.
Could steam or water pop out a lightbulb?
That’s when she heard footsteps again. Only this time they came from behind her.
CHAPTER 25
Maggie tightened the grip on her revolver. Kept her finger on the trigger.
A brick ledge ran along the wall, about six inches wide and almost twelve inches above the water. Maggie stepped up onto it. Pressed her back against the wall and ignored dirt and concrete crumbing down into her collar. She could still feel the sting and pull of the stitches on her neck.
The popping sound stopped. She was sure it had been lightbulbs. She could see the tunnel she had just come from had become dark. Someone had smashed the bulbs as he came up behind her.
How the hell was he able to backtrack?
It didn’t
Nausea churned her stomach and she pressed her body against the rungs while she steadied herself.
She’d just take a look. That’s all.
Finally the hole spit her out into a dimly lit tunnel, concrete and brick, pipes snaking alongside. Steam hissed. Valves cranked.Water slushed. She stepped off the last rung and put her foot into water, jerking it back and almost losing her balance.
Of course there would be water down here. What was she thinking?
A steady trickle soaked the bottom half of her leather flats, but she was relieved to have some space.
Two feet above her head a maze of monster pipes hung from the ceiling. The concrete walls swallowed any sound from above the street and replaced it with drips and gurgles and the swishing of water. Air hissed and Maggie could feel bursts of steam. Somewhere overhead metal clanked and scraped as valves opened and closed.
She told herself it wasn’t any different from a big furnace room. Pretend it’s not twenty feet underground. Pretend there are no moving vehicles and brick buildings right on top of you .
Incandescent bulbs lit the tunnel in front of her. Two others branched off to the left and to the right but those remained dark. Maggie’s fingers found the butt of her gun. She waited. And listened.
Her first impulse was to follow the brightly lit tunnel. But isn’t that what he’d expect her to do? Did he know the tunnel system well enough to use the darkened routes? Despite the twists and turns, she’d probably be able to see illumination if he was using a flashlight down one of those pitch-black tunnels.
Maybe he didn’t expect her to follow him down. Maybe he expected her to do the sensible thing, like wait for backup. Only now did she realize the wheeze she kept hearing was actually her own breathing. She tried holding her breath. Listened again. She could hear a faint echo of footsteps walking away from her, down the lighted tunnel.
She started to follow, slipping her gun out of its holster. She stayed close to the concrete wall, pressing against it in places to keep from touching the pipes and to avoid dripping water. She stopped before every bend, holding her breath and listening. She planted her feet, making sure they didn’t slip. Cringed when she saw the greasy water getting deeper. Damn! It was starting to seep inside her shoes.
But she could hear him up ahead, the thump of a steady pace. He was walking. Not running. He didn’t know she was behind him.
She paid little attention to how many corners she turned. She followed the lighted tunnel, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Something black in the water moved across her foot. Maggie stifled a gasp and kicked out her leg. The toe of her shoe caught the rat under its belly and flung it away.
Rats. Of course there’d be rats .
She took a couple of deep breaths, despite the smells that were getting more rancid. Then she started forward again.
A sudden pop behind her echoed through the tunnel.
A valve switching on? A pipe bursting? She couldn’t tell. She ignored it. Took another step. Another pop. This time she noticed the light behind her dim. Just as she glanced back, the third pop she recognized. Incandescent bulbs made a sound like that when they broke.
Could steam or water pop out a lightbulb?
That’s when she heard footsteps again. Only this time they came from behind her.
CHAPTER 25
Maggie tightened the grip on her revolver. Kept her finger on the trigger.
A brick ledge ran along the wall, about six inches wide and almost twelve inches above the water. Maggie stepped up onto it. Pressed her back against the wall and ignored dirt and concrete crumbing down into her collar. She could still feel the sting and pull of the stitches on her neck.
The popping sound stopped. She was sure it had been lightbulbs. She could see the tunnel she had just come from had become dark. Someone had smashed the bulbs as he came up behind her.
How the hell was he able to backtrack?
It didn’t
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