Fatalis

Chapter Forty-Nine

Hannah was becoming anxious.

She was standing just beyond the downward-sloping conduit. The dry conduit was ahead, to her right, but she couldn't see Grand and she couldn't hear him because of the water. She'd seen how quiet the cats could be, and she was worried for him. There was something special about the man. It wasn't just his imposing physical presence, which was-humid was the word that came to mind. Or maybe that's how he made her feel; she wasn't sure. It was also his humility, his sense of wonder, and the well-being she experienced when she was around him. It was as though nothing could harm her.

She felt that more acutely in his absence. Now that he was gone, menace seemed to be everywhere. Hannah felt the way she used to feel in the unfinished basement of their seventy-year-old mansion in Newport. The bare bulbs, dampness. and brick walls were great to play in when she had a couple of friends over. But when her friends left and she had to turn off the lights and run up the steep wooden stairs, the basement became a den of monsters. They never caught her, but she knew they were there, hidden beneath the growl of the oil burner or the washing machine or the water tank.

They were there. And they were here too.

Hannah kept turning around, flashing the light behind her and checking the other conduit. The water was splashing down vigorously over there, washing the opposite direction and carrying along bark, leaves, and branches that must have been torn from trees by the storm. The flood from ahead was also getting stronger. Hannah had no idea how high Grand had gone but she hoped that he could see or hear the water.

A moment later she saw him backing from the mouth of the dry conduit. She smiled as Grand hopped into the main pipe. With his shoulders hunched and his head bent, he walked toward her. He kept his light turned slightly away to keep from blinding her.

"We've got to get back," Grand said when he reached her side.

"What's wrong?" Hannah asked.

There was something different about his voice. It was tense, urgent.

Grand didn't answer. Holding the flashlight and belt in his left hand, the scientist grasped the young woman's hand firmly in his right and jogged ahead. Pulled along by Grand and pushed by the water, which was now well above her ankles, Hannah had never felt so leg-weary. Her thighs were actually trembling from all the climbing and running she'd done today. The water in her shoes didn't help. She found herself leaning forward, putting more of her weight on Grand's hand. He took it easily.

They continued for twenty or thirty yards when Grand stopped abruptly near the first juncture. Hannah stood close behind him, still holding his hand. She was breathing hard and looking at where he had fixed his light. He was shining it on the mouth of the pipe, which was now on their right, about ten feet away. Water crashed down, slapping high against the sides of the pipe and sending the flotsam from behind them faster and faster down the main conduit. But that wasn't what had caught Grand's eye.

"Turn off your light," Grand said.

Hannah did.

The scientist released her hand. He switched the belt to his right hand and kept his own light on the mouth of the pipe. There was something moving there. Hannah could tell by the way the rushing water came together. Something had parted it just beyond their line of sight. Debris that would have come down the center was spilling out on the sides.

A moment later the black nose, then the muzzle, and then the fangs of one of the cats came into view. The eyes came next, golden and looking ahead. The animal's head hung low in the pipe. The saber-tooth turned toward the intruders as it continued its slow, careful descent. A moment later its huge front shoulders appeared, the cable-taut muscles visible as they moved beneath the fur. The claws, longer than an adult's fingers, flexed and relaxed each time one of the animal's paws was drawn from the water.

Grand had turned slightly so that he was facing the pipe. "Hannah, stay behind me," he said as he began sidling toward the pipe.

"What are we doing?" The words barely made it from her dry throat.

"Leaving."

"Shouldn't we go the other-"

"We can't," he said.

Hannah assumed the other cat was there. She stopped talking and concentrated on staying alive.

The cat poised on the edge of the down-sloping conduit for a moment, just watching them. Then, with easy grace, it took a long two-legged step into the main pipe and immediately turned toward them. It nearly filled the conduit from side to side.

Grand stopped. Less than six feet separated them.

Hannah peered out from behind Grand. She was accustomed to house cats, bobcats, and even tigers at the zoo. But this creature was enormous, even in its details: the whiskers that hung from its snout, the large golden eyes, the sparkling ivory fangs that were the size and thickness of a telephone receiver. Its head was slung low, making its powerful shoulders seem even higher and more massive. Its tufted ears faced forward and there were great knots of muscles on the sides of its thick neck. Its forelegs weren't tapered like those of big dogs. They were stocky and ended in huge paws.

The cat stood there moving its head in a slow circle. It probably couldn't see them and was apparently sniffing.

After a moment it snorted.

"Jim, I really think we should go back-" Hannah said, just as she heard a heavy splash behind her.

She didn't have to turn to know what it was. The other cat, coming toward them.

She nearly tripped over a branch and clutched at Grand's shoulders. She was shaking all over now, and not just from exhaustion.

She watched as the cat in front of them lowered its great head even further. It crouched.

Then it ran at them.