The Last Templar - Страница 29

They were beckoning her, too enticing to resist.

Surprising herself, she climbed back in and snatched the pile of documents, stuffing them into her bag. Something else caught her attention: her wallet, lying among the pile of clutter she'd rashly thrown off the table. She took a step to retrieve it when, from the corner of her eye, she saw Vance stir. She hesitated for a nanosecond before deciding she had taken enough of a risk as it was and had to get out of there now. She spun on her heels, clambered back into the tunnel, and hurried forward into the darkness.

***

Crouched low, her head brushing the top of the tunnel, she was perhaps thirty yards in when it opened up into a wider and higher shaft. She had a sudden, disconcerting flashback to an old Mexican catacomb she had visited as a student. The air smelled even damper in here, and looking down she saw the reason. A narrow stream of black water flowed down the center. Tess stumbled along its edge, her feet slipping on the damp, worn stonework. The bitingly cold water swirled over the tops of her shoes. Then the stream ended, the water cascading down maybe five or six or more feet into another, still bigger tunnel.

Glancing back, Tess listened. Was that just water she heard, or was it something else? Then a harrowing shout echoed in the darkness.

"Tess!"

Vance's voice bellowed from behind. He was back on his feet and coming after her.

Taking a breath, she lowered herself over the ledge until her arms were at full stretch, water pouring into one sleeve of her coat, soaking her clothing and her body. Now, thankfully, the outstretched toes of her

shoes touched solid floor and she let go. Turning, she saw that this time, the stream of water was deeper and wider. A filthy sludge was being carried along on its surface from which rose a smell so foul that she knew she was in a sewer. After a couple of attempts to walk along the edge, she gave up. The curve was too steep, the surface too slippery. Instead, closing her mind to what she knew the water carried in its oily grasp, she went down the center, the water now almost to her knees.

From the corners of her eyes, she suddenly glimpsed movement and color and turned her head.

Small specks of reddish light gleamed in the darkness, moving, and she heard a chittering noise.

Rats were scurrying along the edges of the stream of sewage.

"Tess!"

Vance's voice thundered along the damp tunnel, bouncing off the walls, seeming to come from all sides at once.

A few more yards, and she realized that ahead of her, the darkness wasn't quite as intense.

Stumbling awkwardly, she kept on moving as fast as she dared. No way could she risk falling facedown into this. When, at last, she reached the source of the light, it was coming in from above.

From a sidewalk grille. She could hear people up above. Edging closer, she could actually see them, walking twenty feet overhead.

She felt a surge of hope and started yelling. "Help! Help me! Down here! Help!" but no one seemed to hear her, and, if they did, they simply ignored her cries. Of course they're ignoring you. What did you expect? This is New York City. Taking deranged cries from the sewers seriously was the last 80

thing anyone from around here would do.

Tess realized that her shouts were echoing down the tunnel ahead of her and behind her. She listened. Some sounds were closing in on her. Sloshing sounds, and heavy splashes. She wasn't about to stand there and wait for him to reach her. She set off again, completely heedless now of the water and the filth, and almost at once reached a fork in the tunnel.

One passageway was wider, but it was darker and looked wetter. Easier to hide in? Maybe. She chose that one. Barely fifty feet in and it looked as though she had made the wrong choice. There, in front of her, was a blank brick wall.

It was a dead end.

Chapter 37

A fter he had repelled the intruder in the crypt, Vance had planned on using the tunnels as his escape route from the cellar, taking with him the encoder and the still incompletely decoded manuscript. But all he now had, clasped firmly in his arms, was the intricate machine. The papers were gone. He felt a cold fury envelop him and shouted out her name, his angry cry bellowing across the damp walls that engulfed him.

He had no quarrel with Tess Chaykin. He remembered that he had liked her once, back when he was still capable of liking people, and he should have had no reason to dislike her now. Indeed, it had even crossed his mind to invite her to join his . . . crusade.

But she had stolen the papers, his papers, and that infuriated him.

Hoisting the encoder into a more comfortable position, he continued after Tess. If he didn't reach her soon, she might stumble onto one or another of several escape hatches from this tortuous maze.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

Again he felt his rage rising but fought it back. He couldn't risk moving or acting rashly.

Not now.

And especially not down here.

***

Tess had turned from the dead end and was planning to go back the way that she had come when she saw an iron door encased in a side wall. She grabbed its rusted handle and pulled. It wasn't locked, but it was jammed. With a despairing heave, she forced the door open and saw a staircase spiraling downward. Deeper and darker did not seem like a wise move, but she didn't have much choice.

Tentatively, feeling the angled rungs before putting her weight on them, Tess worked her way down the staircase and found herself in yet another tunnel. How many tunnels were there down here, for God's sake? At least this one was even bigger than before and, even better, it was dry. For the time being. Whatever it was, at least it wasn't a sewer.

She didn't know which way to run. She chose to go left. Ahead, she saw a glimmer of light.

Moving, yellow light. More candles?

Hesitantly, she edged forward.

The light went out.

Tess froze. Then she realized it wasn't out; someone had stepped in front of it.

There were still noises behind her. Whoever was standing there ahead of her couldn't possibly be Vance. Or could it? Maybe he knew his way around these tunnels. He said he'd been living down 81

here. Still, she forced herself forward and could now see not one but two figures a few yards along the tunnel. She didn't think either of them was Vance. Men or women, though, she had no idea, but down here, neither one was likely to be good news.

"Hey, baby," a hoarse voice called out. "You lost?"

Instantly deciding that hesitation would be bad for her health, Tess picked up her pace, awkward in the near-total darkness.

"Looks like your lucky day, man," another voice said, this one high-pitched.

They didn't sound particularly friendly.

Tess kept going. Behind her came a louder noise. Her heart jumped. She was close to the two figures now. Their faces were still masked by the darkness. In the dim candlelight behind them, she could make out a clutter of cardboard boxes, rolls of what looked to be carpet, bundles of rags.

Tess thought fast. "There are cops coming," Tess snapped as she approached them.

"What the fuck do they want?" one of them grumbled.

As Tess pushed past the two men, one of them reached out and grabbed at her coat.

"Hey, come on, doll—"

Instinctively, Tess swung around, slamming the inside of her clenched fist across the side of the man's head. He stumbled back with a startled yelp. The one with the high-pitched voice was about to try his luck, but must have seen something in Tess's eyes, glinting in the yellow light, and backed off.

Tess turned away and put as much distance as she could between herself and the two bums. She ran, tired now, gasping for breath, the bleakness of the stygian underworld now starting to overwhelm her.

She reached another fork in the tunnel. She had no clue as to which way to go. This time, she went right. Stumbling a few more yards, she saw a recess in the wall, a grille that opened when she pushed on it. Another runged ladder going down. She needed to go up, not down. But she had to get away from Vance and decided to go for it, hoping he wouldn't follow.

Now she was in a much bigger tunnel, this one dry again, with straight walls. It was much darker here, and she advanced cautiously, running a hand along the wall for guidance. She couldn't hear Vance's footsteps anymore or his shouts. She breathed out. Great. Now what? Then after what was probably less than a minute but seemed like an eternity, she heard a sound behind her. Not rats this time, and not a human pursuer. What she heard was the rumble of a train.

Shit. I'm in the subway.

A faint, flickering light was bouncing off the walls as the screeching train approached. It lit up the rails on the ground. She ran, desperately trying to keep the live rail in sight, hoping she wouldn't hit it. The train was closing in fast, its rhythmic clatter bouncing off the tunnel walls. It had almost reached her when, cast into relief by the train's headlights, she saw a slim cavity in the wall and threw herself into it. As she squeezed into the curving space, the train hurtled past, only inches from her trembling body. Heart racing, her arms curled around her face defensively, her eyes shut tight but still aware of the strobing light as the train flashed by, she waited. The hot, sooty air pushed against her, covering every inch of her body, snaking into her mouth and nostrils. She backed herself even

tighter against the wall. The noise was deafening, overwhelming all her other senses.