Violets are Blue

around and go back, but that wasn't an option right now. I couldn't outrun a tiger in this tunnel, or anywhere else for that matter.

Somewhere in the inky blackness of the tunnel up ahead, the cat was watching me. I debated shutting off the flashlight, but I kept it on for now. At least I would see the cat coming. I concentrated, stared out into the darkness, kept very still, as if that would help me. I had the Glock pointed straight ahead. I wondered if it was possible to bring down a big cat with a handgun, even a powerful one. No way of knowing; no practice range for this kind of shooting. I had my doubts, though.

I couldn't see the cat, but I could almost visualize the thirty teeth in its mouth. I remembered the wounds a cat had made on the victims in Golden Gate Park.

Someone called out; someone was there. Behind me.

'Alex, where are you? Alex?'

I heard Jamilla coming forward in the tunnel and I let out a breath.

'Don't move,' I whispered. 'Don't do anything. The tiger's in here.'

I didn't dare move. I wasn't even sure I could. It was a standoff. I couldn't imagine the tiger being as frightened as I was. Was the Sire there? The two brothers? Anybody else?

'Alex?'

It was Kyle. He was whispering. But if I heardhim...

'Stay right there, Kyle. I mean it. Listen to me. Stay where you are unless you want me dead.'

Everything happened in a terrifying instant.

Suddenly, the cat rushed at me. Full speed? Half speed? Very goddamn fast. Shadows — a blur of fur.

It seemed to leap straight up into the cone of light shining from my flashlight. The cat was tensed muscle, raw speed, gleaming teeth, and the widest, brightest eyes — tremendous focus. It was aimed at me as surely as a deadly bullet.

Its upper body twisted athletically, showing off incredible strength. It seemed to be three to four feet off the ground, coming straight at me, unstoppable.

I had no choice, no options, and no room for error. I didn't even have to think about my next move. It just happened. I squeezed the trigger of my Glock. I fired off three quick shots. All head and upper-body shots, I hoped, but I was just guessing.

The cat kept coming at me. It didn't even slow down. The gunshots couldn't stop it, could they? I had no defense and no place to run, no place to hide.

The big cat hit me hard, knocked me down like weak prey. I waited for the powerful jaws to clamp down on me, to crush my bones. I might have screamed. I don't know what the hell I did. I'd never been more afraid. Not even close.

The cat kept going past me! It made no sense. I didn't understand. A few feet up the tunnel, I heard a loud thud. It was down. I had shot and killed a tiger.

Chapter 90

'Holy shit! Holy shit!' The words exploded out of Jamilla's mouth. Then she smiled. 'Jesus. I don't believe it.' She stared down at the huge, fierce animal that had tried to kill me and was now lying at her feet.

I pushed myself up, forced my legs to move. I took tenuous steps back to where she and Kyle were standing. The cat lay twisted across the width of the tunnel. It didn't move and it wasn't going to.

'Are they down here in the tunnel? The Lost Boys?' Kyle asked in a whisper. 'The Sire?'

'I haven't seen anybody. Just footprints, and the cat. Let's go,' I finally said.

The tunnel was much longer than I would have thought. I wasn't even sure which direction we were headed. Toward the road? The foothills? The Pacific Ocean?

'I sent men toward the perimeters of the property, about five or six hundred yards out. It spreads us thin,' Kyle said. 'I don't like it.'

I didn't answer him. I was still shaky, not quite over my bad moment of truth with the tiger. My heart was pumping like an engine pushed to its limit. I wondered if I might be going into shock.

'Alex?' Jamilla spoke. 'You with us? You okay?'

'Just give me a minute. I'll be fine. Let's keep going.'

Soon we could see the faintest glimmer of daylight up ahead. That was hopeful. But where were we coming out of the tunnel?

'Can't tell how far it is,' I said. 'Or what's between us and the light.'

My hip brushed against something. Then my shoulder. I jumped back and my whole body shuddered. But it was only a valve sticking out from the tunnel wall. Nothing. Scared the hell out of me, though.

Then I could see part of the scene outside — a couple of cypresses leaning away from the wind, a streak of soft gray sky.

It wasn't far, maybe thirty or forty yards. Usually, the most dangerous part of a raid was breaking in, but now it was getting out of this dark tunnel.

I turned to Jamilla and Kyle and whispered, 'I'll go first.'

I knew I was better with a gun than Kyle, and I was physically stronger than Jamilla — at least I thought so. Besides, this was the way it had been the past few years: Gary Soneji, Casanova, Geoffrey Shafer, now the Alexander brothers and their Sire. I always go in first. How long am I going to keep it up? Why am I doing this?

'Don't forget, they're human,' Jamilla said. 'They bleed too.'

I wanted to believe she was right. I moved forward quietly, quickly. I hesitated at the mouth of the tunnel. Took a breath. OneMississippi, two… then out into the big, bad world.

I don't know why, but I yelled at the top of my voice as I burst outside into the light. No words, just a loud scream. Actually, maybe I do know why — I was afraid of these two killers, of their merciless cult, of the Sire. Maybe they bled, but they weren't human. Not like the rest of us.

I was in a pocket chasm surrounded by low-lying hills. I saw no one out there. No sign that anyone had been there recently. They had to have come this way, though. The tiger must have been in the tunnel with somebody.

Jamilla and Kyle came out of the tunnel behind me. The looks on their faces showed their disappointment, their fatigue and confusion.

I heardit before I saw anything.

Then a black pickup truck came roaring around the side of one of the hills. It was headed straight for me, and I had a choice: dive back into the tunnel or hold my ground in the face of the blond killers. They were inside the truck. I could see both of them.

I held my ground.

Chapter 91

The faces of the killers glared through the curved windshield of the truck. I raised my gun, held it as steady as I could. Jamilla and Kyle did the same. The black Ford truck kept coming fast, almost as if they were daring us to shoot.

So we fired. The windshield splintered. Bullets pinged off the roof and hood. The roar of the guns was deafening in my ears. The acrid smell of cordite filled my nostrils.

Suddenly, the truck stopped, then shot into reverse. I kept shooting, trying to hit the driver as the target distanced itself, the vehicle backing away, veering left then right then left. I took off running up the hill, my legs heavy, as if my shoes held lead weights.