Matt and the two Navy men retreated to the next intersection of tunnels. Rifles continued to point at the dead bulk plugging the tunnel.
“That should hold them for now,” Greer said.
The bull’s body jolted forward, sliding toward them, shouldering over slightly. Then it stopped again.
“You had to say that,” Matt muttered, backing away
Greer sneered. “What the fuck?”
The bulk began sliding again.
“The others are pushing from behind!” Bratt said, amazed more than terrified. “Shit!”
The buzzing in Matt’s head, dulled a moment ago, flared anew. But he sensed it came from a new direction, like someone looking over his shoulder. Matt swung toward the neighboring cross tunnel.
As his flashlight turned, a pair of red eyes glowed back at him.
Only ten yards away.
Matt jerked his pistol up, pure reflex, as the creature charged.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted the still open slide on his weapon.
Nope, still out of bullets.
Unable to determine what drew the grendel away, Amanda had no clue as to its whereabouts now. Connor’s mining helmet hung crooked on her head, casting a slanting beam of light down the tunnel, hitting an orange spray-painted marker on the wall.
Lacy Devlin’s trail marker.
Amanda searched farther down the wall. Please…
Another painted spot appeared against the blue ice: a green diamond. Lacy’s path had finally crossed another. A sob escaped Amanda. She had reached the mapped areas of the Crawl Space at last.
She raised the handheld radio and pressed the transmit button. “If anyone’s listening, I’ve found another trail. Green diamonds. I’m following it up. I’ve seen no sign of the beast for the past hour. But please help me.”
She clicked the radio off, preserving the battery, and prayed. If only someone was listening…
In dead silence, she increased her pace.
As she followed one diamond to the next, she judged she must be close to the inhabited areas of the ice cavern system. Taking a chance, she reached up and twisted her helmet lamp, extinguishing her sole source of light.
Darkness closed around her, close and claustrophobic.
She was now deaf and blind.
After half a minute, her eyes adjusted to the press of black ice. She scanned around, first with her eyes, then slowly swiveling her head.
She found what she had been seeking.
Overhead, a faint star glowed deep in the ice, a pool of brightness. Someone was down here with flashlights.
As she stared, standing stationary, the glow suddenly split into two tinier stars, fainter but distinct. Each glow flew quickly away from the other.
One rose higher and away, a fading star, waning, then gone.
The other shot in her direction. Growing brighter, moving fast.
Searchers…someone had surely heard her.
She feared calling out, especially knowing what else lurked in these dark tunnels. Her best chance was to shorten the distance between the moving glow and herself. She twisted her helmet lamp back on.
In the glare of her small bulb, the other glow disappeared. She hated to extinguish the only sign of hope, but it was too dangerous to traverse the ice maze in the dark — and she dared not lose the trail of green diamonds. If her rescuers had heard her, it was this path they would search to find her.
She hurried forward, stopping every other minute to turn off her light and check her bearings in relation to the rescue party.
And she did one other thing at each stop.
“I’m still following the trail of green diamonds. But please be careful. The predator that killed Lacy and Connor is still loose somewhere in these tunnels.”
In Matt’s pocket, the radio passed to him by Greer continued to relay this lost woman’s saga. He had already tried to raise her, but she either couldn’t pick up the signal or had some malfunction with her radio. Whatever the reason, Matt had his own problems.
He continued his mad flight down the ice tunnel, empty pistol in hand, flashlight in the other.
Five minutes ago, the solitary hunter had charged into the crossroads, separating Matt from the two Navy men, filling the passage. The pair had opened fire, trying to buy Matt time to flee.
It hadn’t worked.
After a moment’s hesitation, the beast gave chase — a lioness running down the lone gazelle.
With nothing but an empty pistol in hand, Matt ran headlong down the tunnel, slipping and sliding down steep traverses. He barely kept his footing. His shoulders struck with bruising force against walls and outcroppings. But he refused to slow down. He had already seen how fast a bullet-riddled monster moved. He feared the speed of a healthy, undamaged specimen.
For a few long minutes, he had seen no evidence of the monster. Maybe it had slipped away. Even the fuzzy feeling in his head had quieted. It was as if something emanated from them, something outside the wavelength of ordinary hearing.
Now it had vanished.
Dare he hope the beast was gone with it?
The radio crackled again. “Please…if you can hear this, bring help. Bring guns! I’m still on the green diamond trail.”
What the hell did that mean? Green diamond trail. It sounded like a Lucky Charms cereal advertisement.
“I’ve not seen any sign of the grendel now for the past forty-five minutes. It seems to have disappeared. Maybe it fled.”
Matt scrunched his brow. Grendel? Was that what had attacked them? If so, it seemed this woman knew more about what was down here than anyone else did.
He raced around a corner, skidding on his heels, spinning to make the turn. Ahead the tunnel diverged into two passages. The beam of his flashlight caught a flash of odd color against the ice. A blue circle was painted at the threshold to the right, a green diamond on the left.
Trail markers
Understanding dawned. He chose the left tunnel and continued running, still watching his back, but now also searching for the next green diamond.
Hell, if I’m running, I might as well run toward someone who knows what the hell is going on down here.
Matt continued, winding this way and that. Gravity and the slick slope pulled him deeper and deeper — and still there was no sign of the woman on the radio. It was endless dark ice, and he moved in a glowing blue grotto, lit by his lone flashlight.
“Hello!” The call this time did not come through the radio. It came from ahead of him.
Matt skated around another bend, one hand against the ice wall to balance himself. His flashlight beam rounded the corner and illuminated a strange sight: a tall and shapely woman, naked, painted blue, like some Inuit goddess.
He skidded toward her, realizing that she wasn’t naked but instead wore some skintight pale blue unitard, its hood pulled up. She also wore a mining helmet crooked on her head. Its lamp shone in his eyes.
“Thank God!” she cried, hurrying toward him.
Her features became clear when she switched off her lamp. The confusion in her eyes spread over her face.
“Who are you?” She glanced past him. “Where are the others?”
“If you’re looking for a rescue party, you’ll have to settle for me.” He lifted the useless pistol in his hand. “Though I’m not sure I’m going to do you much good.”
“And you are?” she asked again. Her words were slightly slurred, her voice unusually loud. Was she drunk?
“Matthew Pike, Alaskan Fish and Game.”
“Fish and Game?” Her confusion deepened. “Could you lower your flashlight? I…I’m deaf, and I’m having trouble reading your lips against the glare.”
He lowered his light. “Sorry. I’m one of the group being shuttled from Omega.”
She nodded, understanding. But suspicion also glinted. “What’s going on? Where’s everyone else?”