• and felt her jaw drop, her throat locking at the gruesome scene. There had to be hundreds of them, the path almost completely hidden by the slithering creatures, hissing and squirming in an alien frenzy as they struck wildly at each other. By the time she managed to unfreeze, the loathsome sight had risen past eye level and was gone.
The ride seemed to last forever, both of them staring up at the edge of the path they’d left behind, tensely, breathlessly waiting for the bodies to start falling. When the lift was within a few feet of the bottom, they both jumped off, stumbling quickly away from the wall.
They both leaned against the cool rock, gasping. Rebecca took in the courtyard they’d escaped to in between shuddering breaths, letting the sound of the splashing waterfall soothe her nerves. It was a huge, open space made out of brick and stone, the colors washed out and hazy in the frail light. The water from the reservoir above tumbled down into two stone pools nearby, and there was a single gate across from them.
And no snakes.
She took a final deep breath and blew it out, then turned to Chris.
“Were you bit?”
He shook his head. “You?”
“No,” she said. “Though if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go back that way. I’m more of a cat-person, really.”
Chris stared at her for a moment and then grinned, pushing away from the wall. “Funny, I would’ve figured you for lab rats. I—“
Beep-beep.
The radio!
Rebecca grabbed at the unit hooked to her belt, the snakes suddenly forgotten. It was the sound she’d been hoping to hear ever since they’d found Richard. They were being hailed, maybe by searchers—
She thumbed the receiver and held the radio up so they could both hear. Static crackled through the tinny speaker along with the soft whine of a wavering signal.
“. . . this is Brad!. . . Alpha team . . . read? If. . . can hear this...”
His voice disappeared in a burst of static. Rebecca hit the transmit button and spoke quickly. “Brad? Brad, come in!”
The signal was gone. They both listened for a moment longer, but nothing else came through. “He must have gotten out of range,” Chris said. He sighed, walking farther out into the open yard and gazing up at the dark, overcast sky.
Rebecca clipped the silent radio back to her belt, still feeling more hopeful than she had all night. The pilot was out there somewhere, circling around and looking for them. Now that they were clear of the mansion, they’d be able to hear him signal. Assuming he comes back.
Rebecca ignored the thought and walked over to join Chris, who had found another tiny elevator platform, tucked in the corner across from the water-fall. A quick check showed it to be without power. Chris turned toward the gate, slapping a fresh clip into his Beretta. “Shall we see what’s behind door number one?”
It was a rhetorical question. Unless they wanted to go back through the snakes, it was their only option. Just the same, Rebecca smiled and nodded, wanting to make sure he knew she was ready—and hoping
desperately that if anything else happened, she would be.
FovRtEEn
JILL STOOD AT THE EDGE OF A YAWNING,
open pit in the dank tunnel, staring helplessly at the door on the other side. The pit was too wide to safely jump and there was no way to climb down, at least not that she could see. She’d have to go back and try the door by the ladder.
Her frustrated sigh turned into a shiver. The damp chill emanating from the stone walls would have been bad enough without her being dripping wet. Great secret passage. To use it, you have to catch pneumonia.
A glint of metal caught her gaze as she turned, feet squelching in her boots. She peered down at it, brushing a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. It was a small iron plate set into the stone, a six-sided hole about the size of a quarter at the center. She looked back at the door thoughtfully.
Maybe it works a bridge, or lowers stairs . . . ? It didn’t matter, since she didn’t have whatever tool it required, it was as good as a dead end. Besides, it was unlikely that whoever she’d seen walking through the waterfall had managed to get across. Jill walked back through the twisting passage to-ward the entrance to the tunnel, still in awe of what she’d found behind the curtain of water. It appeared that there was a whole network of tunnels running beneath the estate. The walls were rough and uneven, chunks of sandy limestone protruding at odd angles—but the sheer amount of work that had gone into creating the underground path was mind-boggling.
She reached the metal door next to the ladder, having to make a conscious effort not to let her teeth chatter as a cold draft swept down from the courtyard above. The sound of the waterfall was strangely muted. The steady, echoing rhythm of water dripping to the rock floor was much louder, giving the tunnels a somewhat medieval feel. . . .
She pulled the door open—and froze, feeling a rush of mixed emotions as Barry Burton whirled around to face her, revolver in hand. Surprise won. “Barry?”
He quickly lowered his weapon, looking as shocked as she felt—and just about as wet, too. His T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, his short hair plastered to his skull.
“Jill! How did you get down here?”
“Same way you did, apparently. But how did you know—“ He held up his hand, shushing her. “Listen.” They stood in tense silence, Jill looking up and down the stone corridor and failing to hear whatever Barry had heard. There were metal doors at either end, cast in shadow by the dim utility lights overhead. “I thought I heard something,” he said finally.
“Voices ...”
Before she could ask any questions, he turned and faced her, smiling uneasily. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, but I heard somebody walking out in the garden and had to take a look. I found this place by accident, kind of tripped and fell in ... anyway. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s check around, see what we can dig up.”
Jill nodded, but decided to keep a close eye on Barry for awhile. Maybe she was paranoid, but in spite of his words, he didn’t seem all that happy to see her. . . .
Watch and wait, her mind whispered. For now, there was nothing else she could do.
Barry led them toward the door to the right, hold-ing his Colt up. He pulled the handle, revealing another gloomy tunnel.
A few steps in to the right was another metal door and across from it, the passage veered sharply into almost complete darkness. Barry motioned at the door and Jill nodded. He pushed it open and the two of them moved in to another silent corridor. Jill sighed inwardly as she studied the bare rocky walls, wishing that she had a piece of chalk with her. The tunnel they were in now looked pretty much like all the rest of them, turning left up ahead. She already felt lost, and hoped that there weren’t too many more twists and turns—
“Hello? Who’s there!” A deep, familiar voice shouted from somewhere ahead of them, the words echoing through the passage.
“Enrico?” Jill called out.
“Jill? Is that you?”
Excited, Jill ran the last few steps to the corner and around, Barry right behind her. The Bravo team leader was still alive, had somehow ended up down here—
Jill rounded the next corner and saw him sitting against the wall, the tunnel widening out and ending in a shadowy alcove.
“Hold it! Stop right there!”
She froze, staring at the Beretta he had pointed at her. He was injured, blood seeping from his leg and puddling on the floor.
“Are you with anyone, Jill?” His dark eyes were narrowed with suspicion, the black bore of his semi-automatic unwavering.