'Jesus, Jackie!'
I was on Harry's leg. He shoved me off and flicked on his key light, pointing it in my face. McGlade was on his ass, in the middle of a large slick of gunk.
No -- not gunk.
Blood.
'My God, Harry --'
'I slipped. It's not my blood.'
My stomach churned. The wife.
I tried to radio Herb to say we were on the right trail, but the radio only gave me static. I played with it for a few seconds, but being underground probably put us out of signal range.
Harry stood up and banged his head on the top of the tube we were in.
'Christ! That's gonna leave a lump.'
The smell was nauseating, human waste and rotting animal matter. Several rats scurried past, disappearing into the darkness.
I took the key light from Harry. The little beam barely penetrated the darkness, only allowing for a few feet of sight.
'So which way, Lieutenant? This tube goes both ways.'
I focused the light at our feet. The trickle of sludge was moving to our left. 'This way.'
'Lead on, Jackie. You've got the body armor.'
I killed the light and we shuffled forward. The muck became ankle-deep after a few yards, and the smell was so foul, I could taste it in my mouth.
I stopped twice to listen. The only sound I heard was my labored breathing, which was amplified in the fetid air and made me sound asthmatic. Walking in a crouch with a bad leg was slow going and painful. I felt down in the darkness and discovered that my pants were soaked with blood yet again. This damn wound would never heal.
But that was the least of my problems.
'I think we went the wrong way,' Harry whispered.
'Shhh.'
'I'm going back. Be a dear and let me borrow your vest.'
'Kiss my ass.'
'You want to get romantic now?'
I strained my ears. There was noise ahead, like a water cascade. We were coming to the end of the tunnel.
How far ahead of us could he be? Assuming he knew these sewers, Charles could be hundreds of yards away by now.
Or he could be just around the corner, waiting in ambush.
'Help...'
A woman's voice, weak and pleading, coming from ahead of us. Diane Kork was still alive.
I moved faster, urgency prodding me on, overriding the pain. The radio was still all static. I also tried my cell phone, but couldn't get a signal surrounded by all this concrete. We came to her twenty yards later, lying half-naked in the filth, covered with blood and muck.
'Diane. Can you hear me?' I knelt down next to her, my wounded leg stretched out behind me. Her pulse was strong, steady. I eyed her wounds; several ugly slashes across the chest, and a deep cut in her collarbone that missed her throat by a fraction. Her eyelids fluttered, and she focused on me.
'He heard you coming, and ran off.'
'Diane, we're going to get you out of here.'
She shook her head. 'You have to get him.'
'We will. First we're going to...'
'No!' The power in her voice startled me. 'Don't let him get away. You have to go get him. Please.'
I looked at Harry.
'Give her your jacket.'
He shrugged off the blazer, draping it over Diane.
I tucked the sport coat under her arms and chin.
'He won't get away, Diane. I promise. We need to get you to the hospital. Can you stand?'
She shook her head.
'We'll have to carry her, Harry.'
'You can't even walk. How are you supposed to carry someone?'
