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 make sense that the tunnels would wind in a circle. And now she couldn’t hear any footsteps. Only water gushing through the pipes. A drip started over her head. She didn’t move. Tried to focus on the sounds beyond the pitter-plat. Within seconds the familiar throb began at her temple. That’s when she saw his shadow. He had stopped to listen for her. Just around the last corner, unaware that she could see a piece of his shadow.
She held her breath, trying to quiet the pounding in her head and in her chest. She readjusted her grip on the revolver. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t fire down here. The bullets would ricochet. He had to know that. Probably counted on it.
She watched the shadow inch forward and she pressed tighter against the wall. The drip found her forehead. Damn! It wasn’t just water. She could smell it now. With a slow, smooth motion she switched her grip on the revolver, slipping her fingers down around the barrel, converting it from gun to club.
“O’Dell, where the hell are you?” Racine’s voice echoed through the tunnel, almost making Maggie fall off her ledge.
The shadow bobbed and ducked back out of sight. She heard a shuffle, a swish of water, and retreating footsteps. Maggie jumped off the ledge, jogged, and sloshed to the corner.
He was gone.
She tried to listen while her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light. He had to have escaped down one of the dark tunnels. He could be standing halfway down in the pitch black, staring right at her, and she’d never see him. She felt a shiver. It didn’t help matters that her feet were soaked and her hair damp.
“O’Dell?”
“I’m here.” She finally yelled when she saw a flashlight beam dancing along the wall.
She sidestepped her way to Racine, keeping an eye on the black mouths of the tunnels. Now she realized that to catch him down here would be impossible. He obviously knew his way around. But he was still there in the dark. She could feel him. Almost certain she could smell him. But there was nothing she could do.
CHAPTER 26