Fatalis (29 page)

At least Grand didn't have to look back and check on Hannah. He could hear her splashing through the middle of the pipe. Whatever the young woman's motives for being here, whether it was altruism, journalism, or a combination of the two, Hannah Hughes had a great deal of courage and stamina. Despite the danger, she was here, and that inspired a maelstrom of emotions.

Protectiveness. Respect.

Affection.

Grand hadn't felt that toward a woman since Rebecca died. When the feelings first started, turning his head to look at her, for no reason other than to look at her, he felt that he was being disloyal to his wife, experiencing warmth toward another woman. Back on the mountain he had tried to justify it, telling himself that Hannah's presence helped to keep his instincts sharp. That if anything happened to her he would blame himself. And that was true, as far as it went. Now, he couldn't lie to himself. Hannah wasn't just a jump start for his survival skills.

He cared for her, more and faster than he'd expected. He didn't know what Rebecca would have thought; all he knew was that if the roles were reversed, and Rebecca were alive and alone, he would feel happy for her. He would know that he had a special, irrevocable place in her life.

After a few minutes they reached a juncture. On the left, a downward-sloping pipe met the main conduit.

"Wait here," Grand said. "I want to check the pipe."

"Why can't I come?"

"I'm on point. That's my job."

"Seriously," she said.

"Seriously," he replied. "If I run into a cat and it attacks, I need someone to take the information back to Gearhart."

Hannah didn't argue.

The pipe was about eight feet away. Hannah shined her light ahead.

Grand crouched slightly, ready to spring ahead or back. He removed his belt as he neared the pipe. There wouldn't have been room to use the starbursts here but his belt might prove useful. He let the strap hang from his right hand while he held the flashlight in his left. He listened carefully for breathing or splashing, though it was difficult to hear anything other than the echo of the rushing water.

The pipe was a yard away. Grand approached cautiously and very, very slowly. He was aware that the cats could be getting away while he checked, though he didn't think they'd feel any urgency. They probably couldn't hear him because of the water, nor smell him because there was no wind. The cautious approach was for his own benefit-to give him time, even an extra second or two, to defend himself. If one of the cats did attack, he wanted to be able to detain it long enough for Hannah to get a good head start. He was also using the time to think of ways he could manage the tight space to his advantage. To brace himself against the side of the conduit, or use the water and slope to slide back toward the entrance. If he did encounter one of the cats, and it was hostile, Grand had decided he would have to noose it somehow, either around the mouth or throat, and hope to hold it. Get onto its back, where it wouldn't be able to reach him with teeth or claw. With any luck, their struggles would block the conduit and prevent the other cat from passing.

Until that second cat bites me in the ass and lifts me off like a rubber ball
, he thought. But even that would be all right, as long as it bought Hannah time to get away.

Despite the danger, Grand was overwhelmed by a breathtaking sense of discovery. Not only about the cats but about the origins of modern humans. For the first time in his life Grand truly appreciated the awesome courage of his forebears. And he also understood the forces that necessitated the invention of weapons and their constant, painstaking refinement. It was like watching anthropological history unfold inside and out.

He reached the juncture. The flow from the left conduit and from ahead joined here, creating two separate currents that made it difficult to stand. Grand took a quick look up. The flow was heavy. Though he didn't see any claw marks at the bottom, a good-size leap might have taken them several yards up. He shined the light up the pipe, did not see a cat. If a cat had gone up there, the only way to be sure was to climb up himself. And there wasn't time for that. He didn't see any detritus washing down, which meant that the grate was still in place. He was gambling that the cats had gone ahead.

Grand motioned Hannah forward. The young woman sloshed toward him. He started ahead.

Suddenly, Hannah screamed.

Grand swung around and stared into the wide flashlight beam.

Hannah was hopping and stomping at something in the water. She stopped when she saw what she was fighting. It was a dead rabbit. Hannah stepped aside and let it flow past.

"Sorry," she said when she reached him. "It scared me."

That was interesting
, Grand thought. If the cats were here they hadn't eaten on the carrion. Either they only ate when they were hungry or they only ate what they killed. Just like most modern big cats.

The two resumed their trek.

The pipe turned gently toward the left after several minutes. Shortly after that it forked. One branch continued straight ahead and the other went up, to the right. That one was dry.

Of course
, Grand thought. He turned to Hannah and leaned very close to her ear.

"Wait here," he said.

She made a face but nodded.

Grand started toward the conduit, which was slightly smaller than the pipe they were in. As he neared he could see that there was no soiling on the bottom. As he suspected, it was a service conduit built to give maintenance workers access to the pipes. There were several such conduits in other parts of the mountains, all of them ending in large blockhouses.

The scientist grew angry with himself. He should have thought of those large, mushroom-shaped structures before. They were thick, windowless, and warm at night. They'd make perfect dens.

Grand reached the base of the pipe, which was about four feet up the side of the conduit. He saw claw marks all along the concrete. He pulled himself in and squat-walked up, using his belt hand to steady himself on the side of the pipe. There was something up there. He could feel it. As he continued to ascend he could smell it, dank and musky. He snapped off the light. There was enough illumination from Hannah's flashlight to climb.

He neared the open top of the conduit. It was stuffy in the pipe and Grand was perspiring heavily. There didn't seem to be a break between his heartbeats. If he were attacked in here, his only defense would be a rapid retreat, a backslide into the main conduit.

Grand reached the end of the pipe. The blockhouse was dark. He put the front of his flashlight against his hip and turned it back on. There was a very slight, yellow glow from the plastic lens setting.

There was also something else.

Death.

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.

Grand did two things in the instant before the cat in front of them charged. First, he flung his flashlight at the second cat. The animal growled as the flashlight struck it. Grand hoped it would also distract and confuse the cat in front, for just a moment. As the submerged flashlight filled the pipe with a dim, rippling glow. Grand dropped his belt by his feet and grabbed the branch that Hannah had stumbled over. The thick limb had become wedged diagonally against the sides of the conduit. Wrenching it free, Grand wrapped his belt around the bottom to protect his hands, then immediately flattened his back against the pipe and lifted the branch slightly.

The charging cat stopped right in front of Grand. The animal landed on the branch and the forward part cracked beneath its forepaws. As the animal opened its jaw and lunged toward him, Grand shoved what was left of the limb forward, into the cat's right front shoulder. The scientist leaned all his weight into the push, growling and focusing his
moat
. The cat hadn't had time to dig its claws in and, helped by the water's buoyancy, Grand was able to shove the animal back against the far side of the conduit. The beast snapped and struggled but Grand had it pinned.

For the moment.

"
Go
!" Grand screamed hoarsely at Hannah.