He turned. His dark face was solemn.
Smokey poured another drink. 'What's on your mind, Forrest?'
'Nothing.' He tried to smile, but it looked forced. He turned to Don.
'How they treating you, roomie?'
'They're robbing me blind,' Don replied. 'Of course, since I had no cash of my own, they were kind enough to let me use theirs, so I guess it doesn't matter.'
Forrest's radio squawked. He picked it up and keyed the mike.
'Go ahead.'
'Forrest.' Bates sounded grim. 'Where are you?
'At the evening card game. What's up?'
'Is Pigpen still with you?'
'Yeah. He's here, and so is his cat.'
'Both of you meet me on the basement level.'
'Now?'
'Now.'
He grabbed Pigpen's arm and guided him from the room. The cat trailed along behind them.
Smokey sloshed his drink around in the glass. 'I wonder what that was all about?'
Quinn grinned around his cigarette. 'Probably just the end of the world again.'
Jim woke up to the insistent urging of his bladder. Blearily, he crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. He pissed, but did not flush so as not to wake Danny. As he washed his hands, he glanced at himself in the mirror. He'd aged ten years in the last two weeks. Carrie wouldn't recognize him now.
Thinking of his second wife brought a sudden pang of grief. Without warning, tears spilled from his eyes. Jim sat down on the toilet as sobs wracked his body. His emotions were a mixture of sadness and relief. He cried for Carrie and their unborn baby. He cried for Martin. He even wept for Tammy and Rick. He cried sad tears for what Danny had been through, and tears of joy that the boy was safe and with him now.
When he was finished, Jim turned off the bathroom light and slipped back into bed. He immediately fell asleep, emotionally and physically exhausted.
'The workers hadn't reached here yet,' Pigpen told them as they stood in the sub-basement, 'so we'll have to go about a mile through the sewers before we get to where they'd stopped.'
Forrest's nose wrinkled in disgust.
God stood over a manhole cover in the corner of the sub-basement's cement floor and meowed. Then he twined between Pigpen's legs, purring.
'Down there?' Bates asked, skeptical.
'Yep, God says that's where we got to go.'
'And you're absolutely positive you can lead us to the tunnel?'
Pigpen nodded. 'And from there, it's a straight shot to the airport.'
'And if they flank us?'
'Then I'll take us to the bomb shelter.'
'Bates,' Forrest asked, 'how the hell are we gonna get all these people through that sewer entrance?'
'We're not, at least, not yet. We'll send a reconnaissance team, make sure this private tunnel of Ramsey's really exists. Get an idea of the challenges we're going to face. We'll go from there. But we'll need to send them soon.'
'Why soon?' Forrest asked.
'Because there's an army on the way here.'
'Ours?'
'Theirs.'
God suddenly crouched down on all fours and hissed.
'What is it, God?' Pigpen reached down to scratch the cat, but it backed away, hissing.
The other two men ignored it. Bates studied the cover.
'Let's pull it up and have a look.'
He threaded a thin length of steel cable through two of the holes, and then he and Forrest squatted on either side and lifted, grunting with the effort. The manhole cover rose into the air with a grating sound.
They dropped it onto the floor and stared down at the hole. The interior opening was dark, and all they could see was the top rungs of a service ladder.
Forrest fanned his nose. 'Jesus, that stinks. Smells worse than a month-old zombie.'
Bates produced a small flashlight from his pocket, crouched down, and shined the beam into the hole.
A pair of red eyes stared back.
