Scavenger by David Morrell Page B

Hearing the guard chasing him, Balenger continued to rush downward, only to stop at the sight of Ortega climbing toward him.
    “I saw her!” Balenger exclaimed. “Karen Bailey! She’s in the building!”
    The guard reached Balenger. “Sir, I need to ask you to leave.”
    Ortega pulled out his police identification. “He’s with me.”
    “I saw her at the entrance to the reading room,” Balenger said. “The same navy dress. Hair in a bun. Then she ran.”
    “I didn’t see anyone who matches that description when I came into the building.” Ortega turned toward the guard. “Tell your security staff to block all the exits. Be careful. She might be dangerous.” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call for backup.”
    As Balenger and Ortega ran down the stairs, Ortega blurted instructions into his phone. Then he glared at Balenger. “Ducking away from me in the crowd. Leaving me to report to the fire team on my own. Maybe you’d like to get arrested for obstructing an investigation.”
    “I didn’t have a choice. I told you there wasn’t time. I couldn’t wait.”
    “I was forced to lie and claim you’d gone for medical treatment.”
    “Thanks. If I can ever repay you—”
    “You made me feel like a damned fool. Don’t play games with someone who’s trying to help.”
    “I think that might be what’s going on. A game .”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Karen Bailey leaves a piece of paper for me at the theater, but I need to find the theater before I get to read what’s on the paper. A stamp on it leads me to this branch of the library, where I need to pass another test and learn where the paragraph on the paper comes from. It turns out to be from The Hound of the Baskervilles . When I get a copy of the novel, I find words stamped next to the paragraph.”
    “Words?”
    “The Sepulcher of Worldly Desires.”
    “The what?”
    “I think I’m supposed to find out what it is. This branch of the library doesn’t lend books, so she could be sure I’d find the message on the page. Step by step, I’m being led through some kind of game. The moor the paragraph refers to is Dartmoor in England. When I Googled Dartmoor, I learned about a hide-and-hunt game invented there a long time ago, a game called letterboxing that sounds like the game I’m being made to play—hidden messages leading to other hidden messages. Some aspects of letterboxing even sound like time capsules. Everything’s related.”
    “But why would anybody do this? Do you have enemies? Someone who hates you enough to put you through this?”
    “I told you before, the only person I can think of who’d be sick enough to do this is dead.” Balenger hesitated. “Time capsules.”
    “Something occur to you?”
    “When I was a kid, I found a time capsule in part of a school that was being torn down. The local newspaper made a big deal about it. My photograph was on the front page. It showed me holding the rusted metal box.”
    The skin tightened around Ortega’s eyes. “You’re saying someone went to the trouble of researching your past all the way back to when you were a kid? To find the bait that would make you go to the lecture at that house?”
    “In the attic, we found two video game cases,” Balenger said. “One was for Grand Theft Auto . You told me you’d never heard of the other one. Do you remember its title?”
    Ortega thought for a moment. “ Scavenger. ”

LEVEL FOUR
    AVALON

    1
    As the roar of the explosion echoed off the distant mountains, Amanda stayed kneeling. Her chest was racked with sobs. Before her, the blood mist continued to drift in the breeze. The sandy depression was red with body parts. She smelled something pungent and sickening. “Bethany,” she murmured. Shock so overwhelmed her that she was hardly aware of the sharp stones under her knees.
    “Go back to the others,” the sonorous voice said through Amanda’s headset. The words were distorted by a persistent painful ringing that