Hide and Seek

I wondered if dog or man or woman had killed them. I wondered if

they'd fought and lost and died as Steven had. I felt very, very

vulnerable.

The corridor was as hort one. Casey was right- from here you could

smell the sea. You could hear it too, the faint easy brush strokes of

dead low tide. To me it sounded like freedom.

You couldn't help but reconsider going back the way we came, Ben or no.

Not after those corpses. But in the passageway we'd be much more open

to attack. Besides, I wasn't wholly sure of the way. I could see us

missing a turn, the panic, the fear that they could be in front of us

or behind, the impossibility of covering ourselves with only one light

between us. They knew these tunnels. We didn't.

No, the way out was a head of us. Past them. Through them.

Close by.

We moved toward the hiss of the sea. Its sound was seductive,

dangerous. It could excite you, give you hope. And it could mask

other sounds.

Fight the sound, I thought.

I saw a thin stream of moonlight filter through the passage. We were

close now. It gave me an idea. A way to increase our odds a little. I

pulled her near me and whispered.

"Douse the light."

She understood immediately. We stood silent in the darkness waiting

for our eyes to adjust to the dim light. The dog and Mary Crouch would

be ahead of us. In moonlight. When we faced them there would be a

moment when we'd see them better than they'd see us. And that was our

moment.

"Take her," I said.

She turned her head and nodded. We rounded the corner.

The room was small, maybe fifteen feet in diameter, with low ceilings.

Once the tides had come through here. The floor was covered with round

stones polished smooth. Directly ahead of us was an opening four feet

wide by six feet high. There were three browse-beds arranged

perpendicular to the opening. I could picture