Chapter 20: Back in the Tunnels

  Little Bear’s flashlight shone down the corridor. His shotgun barrel aimed low. The roof of the corridor was solid concrete no pipes or ducts for the Dinos to get the drop on him.

  JJ followed half a step behind, M16 shouldered. The tunnel air clung cold and damp against his face. Every few yards, water fell from above in fat drops that struck puddles with loud, repetitive plinks.

  Loni kept tight behind JJ, pistol up, light angled low so it didn’t bounce into their eyes. Hector brought up the rear, rifle canted, his beam sweeping back every few steps—checking the door they’d tied off, checking the dark behind them for a sudden change in rhythm.

  Click, click, click.

  The sound came from ahead again, then drifted right. They kept crossing the corridor and just out of reach. Every so often, JJ glimpsed shining yellow eyes watching them before they disappeared into the gloom.

  Little Bear raised a fist and crouched. He tilted his flashlight to gaze at the floor.

  JJ and Loni kept their weapons aimed straight ahead as Little Bear examined a series of dark scuffs on the floor. Boot treads, human, fresh enough for him to make them out. They ran diagonally across the corridor, then doubled back hard toward the left wall.

  JJ stepped forward carefully, placing his boot in a clean patch of concrete. He lowered his light and saw it more closely. He shone his beam on the treads and then shone his light on the wall. A faint smear higher up darkened the concrete in an uneven crescent.

  “Is that a handprint?” Loni asked

  “Most likely.” Little Bear said as he examined the wall.

  JJ moved his beam up the wall. The smear was glossy in places where the moisture hadn’t dried yet.

  Hector leaned in just enough to see. “Well, that’s good. We’re catching up.”

  Little Bear pointed again, farther ahead, where a strap hung from a conduit bracket. A torn length of nylon swayed slightly where it hung.

  “Almost got 'em,” JJ said, voice low. “Come on, let’s pick up the pace.”

  Little Bear rose and advanced faster now. The team followed at a trot.

  Click, click, click.

  The clicking sounded more insistent or agitated. Faint hisses followed low and menacing. It reminded JJ of the pressurized air being released from an eighteen-wheeler.

  Loni’s shoulders tightened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “They don’t want us going forward,” Hector said from the rear.

  “Yeah, this is probably their territory,” JJ said.

  “Then why aren’t they attacking?” Loni wondered aloud.

  “Predators won’t fight if they feel they’re outmatched. An injury for a predator in the wild, even a minor one, can lead to infection or loss of mobility. That’s a death sentence.” Little Bear said over his shoulder.

  “Makes sense then. We killed several of their friends earlier, including that big one.” Hector mused. “They don’t want us in the yard, but there to afraid to kick us out.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way.” JJ sent a silent prayer that it would keep being the case.

  The corridor narrowed around a bend. Dry air and a faint draft carried a faint earth scent. The corridor was mostly dray not damp like the way they came.

  Little Bear slowed down at the corner.

  From somewhere beyond the bend came a chorus of clicking and hisses.

  JJ leaned in toward Little Bear’s shoulder, voice low. “You sweep right, I sweep left.”

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  Little Bear gave a small nod. JJ tightened his grip, then tapped Little Bear’s shoulder twice.

  Little Bear stepped into the bend, shotgun raised, his flashlight beam cutting into the gloom.

  JJ slid in behind him, sweeping left. The corridor beyond felt drier. The damp sheen on the floor gave way to dust-caked concrete with patches of chalky residue.

  “Clear,” JJ said.

  Little Bear’s light snapped right, then down, then right again. “Clear.”

  Three steps in, the corridor opened into a cramped intersection. Concrete walls, rusted metal shelving bolted into one side, and a bank of dead equipment panels.

  A faded placard hung crooked on the far wall. Shapes and arrows. A simple diagram of tunnels.

  Hector drifted in last, covering the bend behind them. He kept his voice low. “LB find these kids quick. I’m getting fucking tired of these damn tunnels.”

  Loni’s light flicked to the floor instead. “Keep it together, H.”

  JJ’s eyes were on the signs that the room had been used recently.

  Dust was disturbed in a crescent near the shelving, as if someone had backed into it. Boot scuffs crossed the node and angled toward a narrow access on the far side, an opening half-hidden behind a dangling curtain of vines that had found their way in through a hairline crack.

  Little Bear crouched. “More prints.”

  JJ took a half-step closer and saw darker marks, streaks dragged across the concrete, not dried and still carrying a faint sheen.

  Loni knelt. “I don’t like this, JJ. They’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “All the more reason to find them quick,” Hector muttered.

  The clicking sounded again, close before it cut off.

  Everyone’s guns lifted at once. Aiming at the darkness beyond the far access.

  Silence pressed in, broken only by the soft drip-drip from somewhere deeper. Little Bear’s flashlight angled down again, catching something pale near the base of the shelving. He reached for it slowly and lifted it into the beam.

  A disposable camera. The cheap wind-up king, as you’d buy at an airport gift shop. The casing was scuffed, and one corner was cracked as if it had been stomped on. Across the front, written in thick black marker: CASSY

  Hector let out a breath through his nose. “At least they’re leaving us a trail.”

  JJ didn’t take his eyes off the access. “Better than nothing, let's go, we got eight minutes left.”

  Little Bear tucked the camera away without comment.

  Loni slid closer to the shelving, careful with her boots, and shone her light into the dust. A strip of cloth lay wadded under the bottom shelf, shirt fabric, torn and twisted. Next to it, an empty little foil packet, creased, old-style, the kind that once held antiseptic wipes.

  “At least someone tried to clean the wound,” she said quietly. “I hope that’s what they tried to do.”

  JJ’s gaze flicked to the far wall again. The facility placard was too faded to read cleanly, but the arrows were still there. One route pointed toward “Yard Access.” Another toward something labeled “Service Node, Emergency.”

  And below the arrows, someone had gouged a mark into the concrete with something sharp.

  Hector shifted his rifle. “Marking their way. That’s smart.”

  More clicking came from a different corridor.

  JJ felt the hair at the back of his neck rise. “They split down multiple tunnels,” he murmured.

  Little Bear’s head tilted, listening. “Eyes tight, Hector, once we go down the corridor, they’ll flank us.”

  JJ nodded once. “We don’t have time to waste, double time, Johnson. Hector, try to keep up, yeah?”

  Hector made a face. “Sí, jefe.”

  Little Bear stepped forward first.

  As they neared the vine-curtained access, a sound came from beyond the vines, small and involuntary. A swallowed cough, like someone had tried to choke it back and failed.

  JJ froze mid-step, rifle snapping toward the darkness. Little Bear’s shotgun rose.

  Loni’s voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s got to be them.”