“Hold on.” Mason let go of her hand and went over to the cop on the stairs. He picked up the shotgun and took one more look at the man’s dead eyes. Then he went up the stairs and along the catwalk to the door that had been cut into the wall. It was another submarine door, like the first one he’d tried. But this door opened when he turned the wheel.
He pushed it open slowly, keeping the barrel of the shotgun trained on whatever might be on the other side. As he stepped into the enclosure, he saw a caged staircase winding its way high above his head. All the way up to the ground level, he thought. That’s how they had gotten down here with Diana.
But there’s no way we’re going back up these stairs, he thought. With or without Eddie.
There could be more cops up there. Even if it’s clear, we won’t have a vehicle.
He closed the door and came back down the stairs.
“This way,” he said, grabbing her hand again.
They started walking. He knew it was a long way back. He hoped she had the strength to make it. They moved from one circle of light to the next, marking their progress that way even if nothing seemed to change ahead of them. He tried to keep her out of the standing water, but it was impossible. Her feet were soon as wet as his and she started shivering.
“Eddie!” Mason said into his headset, not sure if he had a signal again yet. “Clear!”
“Here . . .”
“Get out!”
“Going . . .”
They came to the crane Mason had passed on the way in. He figured they were halfway out.
“Almost there,” he said to her.
She didn’t answer him. He pulled her up for a moment to look into her eyes. She had gone somewhere else. But at least she was still moving, her body on automatic pilot, so he took her hand and kept walking with her.
More rings of light until he saw where they ended. Where the night sky could already be seen through the last ring and the air was getting fresher with every step.
He looped his arm around Diana’s back and held her up for a few more steps.
“Stay here,” he said.
He found a dry spot against the rounded wall and eased her down into a sitting position. She folded her arms over her knees and put her head down. She didn’t say a word.
“Be right back,” he said. “Don’t move.”
He brought the shotgun up to a ready position and made his way slowly to the mouth of the tunnel. Drinking in the night air, he caught his second wind. One more shot of energy to get him across these last few yards.
Mason didn’t want to speak into the headset now. He didn’t want to make any sound at all.
He inched his way to the last ring of light, staying low, taking one careful step at a time, each step giving him a better angle on whatever he might see outside. He switched to the opposite side of the tunnel, then back again. Another step, then another. Until he was at the edge and could carefully scan the entire scene.
His car was there. The darkened trailer behind it. The giant construction vehicles still asleep in their places. The far rim of the quarry high above everything else.
Mason took another step, out into the night. He could see along the cliff in either direction. Nobody there.
No Eddie. No Jeep. He was already on his way out.
We’re safe, Mason said to himself. This whole crazy fucking thing worked. Which is yet another confirmation of why Cole chose me. He said so himself. I might not even understand it until I saw it with my own eyes. Now I have.
Because here’s the simple truth. There aren’t many other men who could have done this.
But the thought didn’t give Mason any satisfaction. He wasn’t even sure what it meant—about what kind of man he really was—but there’d be time to think about that later.
He went back to where Diana was still slumped against the wall. When he bent down to her, she shivered and tried to push him away.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”
He picked her up and carried her out of the tunnel, across the open ground, working hard to keep his balance, finally getting her to the car and opening up the passenger’s-side door. When he put her in the seat and closed the door, she fell back, her head against the window, her hands covering her face.
Mason went around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. He started the engine and turned on the headlights.
Another cop was standing directly in front of the car.
He had his pistol leveled at Mason’s head, and he was smart enough to swing himself around, away from the front of the car, so there’d be no chance of Mason running him over.
Mason had put the shotgun between the two front seats. He played it out in his head as the cop came around to the passenger’s-side window, his gun still pointed at him. One move for the shotgun and he’d get it right through the glass.
The cop spoke to him, but Mason couldn’t make out the words. Probably something about getting the fuck out of the car. Or, maybe, don’t even bother.