Fatalis

Chapter Forty-Eight

Though Grand was mentally and physically spent, there was something vitally alive inside of him. Whether it was a survival instinct, naked curiosity, or both, it kept his senses and limbs running at top speed.

Curiosity was certainly a large part of it. Grand had to fight being distracted by the creatures-by the wonder of them, by the questions he had about them, by whatever had apparently roused a pair of saber-tooth cats from eons of hibernation. He had to remember that he was the hunter and they were the prey. If Grand allowed his moat to weaken, if he let the roles become reversed, then he and Hannah would die.

And there was something else that concerned him even more than the cats. Something about the painting in the lower cave. A suggestion that danger was greater than what they'd see. Far greater.

Grand was able to move quickly in here. The pipe was on a slight up-slope, and he was able to straddle the water as it flowed down the center. There was debris in the water- branches, water bottles, the occasional drowned field mouse and rattlesnake. That meant the grate had also been torn out from somewhere up ahead. He hoped it was an old break, that the cats weren't so far ahead they were already in the mountains or in other tunnels.

The water flow was becoming heavier the farther they went. Grand didn't know how often the system was flushed, but he suspected it would get pretty rough in here before long. He picked up the pace.

At least Grand didn't have to look back and check on Hannah. He could hear her splashing through the middle of the pipe. Whatever the young woman's motives for being here, whether it was altruism, journalism, or a combination of the two, Hannah Hughes had a great deal of courage and stamina. Despite the danger, she was here, and that inspired a maelstrom of emotions.

Protectiveness. Respect.

Affection.

Grand hadn't felt that toward a woman since Rebecca died. When the feelings first started, turning his head to look at her, for no reason other than to look at her, he felt that he was being disloyal to his wife, experiencing warmth toward another woman. Back on the mountain he had tried to justify it, telling himself that Hannah's presence helped to keep his instincts sharp. That if anything happened to her he would blame himself. And that was true, as far as it went. Now, he couldn't lie to himself. Hannah wasn't just a jump start for his survival skills.

He cared for her, more and faster than he'd expected. He didn't know what Rebecca would have thought; all he knew was that if the roles were reversed, and Rebecca were alive and alone, he would feel happy for her. He would know that he had a special, irrevocable place in her life.

After a few minutes they reached a juncture. On the left, a downward-sloping pipe met the main conduit.

"Wait here," Grand said. "I want to check the pipe."

"Why can't I come?"

"I'm on point. That's my job."

"Seriously," she said.

"Seriously," he replied. "If I run into a cat and it attacks, I need someone to take the information back to Gearhart."

Hannah didn't argue.

The pipe was about eight feet away. Hannah shined her light ahead.

Grand crouched slightly, ready to spring ahead or back. He removed his belt as he neared the pipe. There wouldn't have been room to use the starbursts here but his belt might prove useful. He let the strap hang from his right hand while he held the flashlight in his left. He listened carefully for breathing or splashing, though it was difficult to hear anything other than the echo of the rushing water.

The pipe was a yard away. Grand approached cautiously and very, very slowly. He was aware that the cats could be getting away while he checked, though he didn't think they'd feel any urgency. They probably couldn't hear him because of the water, nor smell him because there was no wind. The cautious approach was for his own benefit-to give him time, even an extra second or two, to defend himself. If one of the cats did attack, he wanted to be able to detain it long enough for Hannah to get a good head start. He was also using the time to think of ways he could manage the tight space to his advantage. To brace himself against the side of the conduit, or use the water and slope to slide back toward the entrance. If he did encounter one of the cats, and it was hostile, Grand had decided he would have to noose it somehow, either around the mouth or throat, and hope to hold it. Get onto its back, where it wouldn't be able to reach him with teeth or claw. With any luck, their struggles would block the conduit and prevent the other cat from passing.

Until that second cat bites me in the ass and lifts me off like a rubber ball, he thought. But even that would be all right, as long as it bought Hannah time to get away.

Despite the danger, Grand was overwhelmed by a breathtaking sense of discovery. Not only about the cats but about the origins of modern humans. For the first time in his life Grand truly appreciated the awesome courage of his forebears. And he also understood the forces that necessitated the invention of weapons and their constant, painstaking refinement. It was like watching anthropological history unfold inside and out.

He reached the juncture. The flow from the left conduit and from ahead joined here, creating two separate currents that made it difficult to stand. Grand took a quick look up. The flow was heavy. Though he didn't see any claw marks at the bottom, a good-size leap might have taken them several yards up. He shined the light up the pipe, did not see a cat. If a cat had gone up there, the only way to be sure was to climb up himself. And there wasn't time for that. He didn't see any detritus washing down, which meant that the grate was still in place. He was gambling that the cats had gone ahead.

Grand motioned Hannah forward. The young woman sloshed toward him. He started ahead.

Suddenly, Hannah screamed.

Grand swung around and stared into the wide flashlight beam.

Hannah was hopping and stomping at something in the water. She stopped when she saw what she was fighting. It was a dead rabbit. Hannah stepped aside and let it flow past.

"Sorry," she said when she reached him. "It scared me."

That was interesting, Grand thought. If the cats were here they hadn't eaten on the carrion. Either they only ate when they were hungry or they only ate what they killed. Just like most modern big cats.

The two resumed their trek.

The pipe turned gently toward the left after several minutes. Shortly after that it forked. One branch continued straight ahead and the other went up, to the right. That one was dry.

Of course, Grand thought. He turned to Hannah and leaned very close to her ear.

"Wait here," he said.

She made a face but nodded.

Grand started toward the conduit, which was slightly smaller than the pipe they were in. As he neared he could see that there was no soiling on the bottom. As he suspected, it was a service conduit built to give maintenance workers access to the pipes. There were several such conduits in other parts of the mountains, all of them ending in large blockhouses.

The scientist grew angry with himself. He should have thought of those large, mushroom-shaped structures before. They were thick, windowless, and warm at night. They'd make perfect dens.

Grand reached the base of the pipe, which was about four feet up the side of the conduit. He saw claw marks all along the concrete. He pulled himself in and squat-walked up, using his belt hand to steady himself on the side of the pipe. There was something up there. He could feel it. As he continued to ascend he could smell it, dank and musky. He snapped off the light. There was enough illumination from Hannah's flashlight to climb.

He neared the open top of the conduit. It was stuffy in the pipe and Grand was perspiring heavily. There didn't seem to be a break between his heartbeats. If he were attacked in here, his only defense would be a rapid retreat, a backslide into the main conduit.

Grand reached the end of the pipe. The blockhouse was dark. He put the front of his flashlight against his hip and turned it back on. There was a very slight, yellow glow from the plastic lens setting.

There was also something else.

Death.