Fatalis

Chapter Forty-Six

Grand and Hannah took a moment to stare across the gully. On the opposite side was the mouth of a large-diameter pipe made of concrete and approximately six feet in diameter. The bottom of the pipe was about two feet off the ground; the thick steel mesh that was designed to keep children out had been torn back and was hanging from the lower left corner. Water and detritus was flowing from the opening like spillage from a log flume. The runoff was pouring into a narrow, jagged channel that had been eaten from the pipe to the large gully.

This was bad news, Hannah knew.

Two years before, the municipal water districts of Santa Barbara, Ventura, and other counties down to Los Angeles had pooled their resources to create more efficient, interconnected drainage in the coastal ranges, a system that not only prevented flooding and channeled overflow from dams, but helped to fill the reservoirs of those communities. Given the lack of staining inside the pipe, Hannah assumed this pipe was part of that project. If that were true, then the cats had a new route through the mountains. One that had dozens of egresses, many of which would take them right to where the food was: the towns along the drainage route.

"Are we going in?" she asked.

"We have to," Grand said as he hurried down the steep, stony wall of the larger gully. "There are dozens of openings like this. If the cats leave we probably won't find them until they kill again." The gully was only four feet deep and Grand quickly crawled up the other side.

Hannah punched the speed-dialing code, then climbed down the side of the gully. She was connected after two beeps.

"Hello," said the voice on the other end-Hannah reached the top of the gully. "Hello, Wall?" she said.

"No. It's Gearhart."

Hannah scowled. "What happened to the Wall?"

"He's gone. Where are you?"

"I'm not sure," Hannah said. She felt ambushed and violated. "We came to the end of the mountain tunnel and found a pipeline. We think the saber-tooths went in there. We're moving towards it."

"You're sure they're prehistoric cats?"

"We're as sure as we can be without getting up close and personal," Hannah said.

"Are you looking at the pipeline?" Gearhart asked.

"Yes."

"What's the gauge of the pipe?"

"I don't know, exactly," Hannah said. "The opening's about five or six feet across."

"That's one of the new pipes. They're using them in the Gibraltar Dam system expansion," Gearhart said. "Both of you stay where you are. We'll triangulate the call and pick you up."

Hannah looked over at Grand. He had reached the pipe and was examining the base. After a moment he climbed inside.

"Sorry, Sheriff, but we won't be here," she said.

"Listen to me," Gearhart said. "My SWAT teams are moving into that area. You pop out somewhere and they may not be able to distinguish between you and their prey."

"We're the ones on two legs," Hannah said. "I'll leave the phone here. You can follow the signal while we follow the cats."

"You may not get to follow anything," Gearhart yelled. "Those pipes have been flushing regularly since the rains started-"

"We'll be okay," Hannah said.

The young woman set the phone on a flat rock beside the drain and climbed into the opening. She wondered if Gearhart had been concerned about their well-being or about the possibility that they might interfere with a kill shot.

The pipe was large enough for Hannah to stand. She splashed over to Grand, who was on his hands and knees about a yard in. He was using the back of his left hand to divert some of the flow as he studied marks on the floor of the pipe.

"What is it?" she asked.

"More claw marks," he said.

"Two sets?"

Grand nodded. "Both cats came in here, though there aren't any marks on the lip."

"Which means?"

"The cats didn't climb into the pipe. They jumped from somewhere outside and landed a yard inside." Grand stood, though he had to bow his head slightly. "The leap was precise and powerful."

"Just like when they disappeared into the sinkhole."

"Exactly." Grand sloshed ahead.

Hannah followed, her sneakers soaked with icy water. Even so, her feet weren't as cold as the backs of her shoulders. The chill of fear trickled down to the small of her back and settled there.

There had been awe in Grand's voice but it was tempered by concern. Hannah wasn't sure whether the scientist was worried about the power of the animals or whether it was something else, whatever it was he'd alluded to back on the mountaintop. But as she walked deeper into the pipe, the sounds of their footfalls splashing off the circular walls, she decided this much: She would give Gearhart the benefit of the doubt. He was worried about them.

Somehow, just thinking that made Hannah feel like she and Grand were a little less alone.