[412] Pendergast looked astonished. “Ms. Green, I’m shocked you would have such a low opinion of me. The fact is, you’ve never been in this kind of situation before. Without a gun, you can’t do anything.”
Margo looked at him combatively. “I saved your ass back there when I told you to switch on your lamp,” she challenged.
He raised an eyebrow.
From the darkness, Frock said, “Pendergast, don’t be a Southern gentleman fool. Take her.”
Pendergast turned to Frock. “Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own, Doctor?” he asked. “We’ll need to take both the flashlight and the miner’s lamp if we’re to have any chance of success.”
“Of course!” Frock said with a dismissive wave. “I could use a bit of rest after all this excitement.”
Pendergast hesitated a moment longer, then looked bemused. “Very well,” he said. “Margo, lock the doctor inside the Secure Area, get his keys and what’s left of my suit jacket, and let’s go.”
Smithback gave the flashlight a savage shake. The light flickered, grew brighter for a moment, then dimmed again.
“If that light goes out,” D’Agosta said, “we’re fucked. Turn it off; we’ll switch it on now and then to check our progress.”
They moved through the darkness, the sound of rushing water filling the close air. Smithback led; behind him came D’Agosta, grasping the journalist’s hand—which, like the rest of him, had grown almost entirely numb.
Suddenly, Smithback pricked up his ears. In the dark, he gradually became aware of a new sound.
“You hear that?” Smithback asked.
D’Agosta listened. “I hear something,” he answered.
“It sounds to me like—” Smithback fell silent.
“A waterfall,” D’Agosta said with finality. “But [413] whatever it is must be a ways off. Sounds carry in this tunnel. Keep it to yourself.”
The group slogged on in silence.
“Light,” said D’Agosta.
Smithback turned it on, played it down the empty hall in front of them, then switched it off again. The sound was louder now; quite a bit louder, in fact. He felt a surge in the water.
“Shit!” said D’Agosta.
There was a sudden commotion behind them.
“Help!” came a feminine voice. “I’ve slipped! Don’t let go!”
“Grab her, somebody!” the Mayor shouted.
Smithback snapped on the light and angled it quickly backward. A middle-aged woman was thrashing about in the water, her long evening dress billowing out across the inky surface.
“Stand up!” the Mayor was shouting. “Anchor your feet!”
“Help me!” she screamed.
Smithback shoved the flashlight into his pocket and braced himself against the current. The woman was floating directly toward him. He saw her arm lash out and felt it wrap around his thigh in a viselike grip. He felt himself slipping.
“Wait!” he cried. “Stop struggling! I’ve got you!”
Her legs kicked out and wrapped around his knees. Smithback lost his grip on D’Agosta and staggered forward, marveling at her strength even as he was pulled off balance.
“You’re dragging me under!” he said, toppling to his chest in the water and feeling the current sucking him downward. Out of the corner of his eye he saw D’Agosta wading in his direction. The woman clambered onto him in a blind panic, forcing his head under water. He rose up under her damp gown, and then it was clinging to his nose and chin, disorienting him, suffocating him. A [414] great lassitude began to sweep over him. He went under a second time, a strange, hollow roaring in his ears.
Suddenly he was above the water again, choking and coughing. A dreadful shrieking was coming from the tunnel ahead of them. He was held in a powerful grip. D’Agosta’s grip.
“We lost the woman,” D’Agosta said. “Come on.”
Her shrieks echoed toward them, growing fainter as she was swept farther downstream. Some of the guests were shouting and crying directions to her, others sobbing uncontrollably.
“Quick, everybody!” D’Agosta yelled. “Stay against the wall! Let’s move forward, and, whatever you do, don’t break the chain.” Under his breath, he muttered to Smithback, “Tell me you’ve still got the flashlight.”
“Here it is,” Smithback said, testing it.
“We have to keep going, or we’ll lose everybody,” D’Agosta muttered. Then he laughed a short, mirthless laugh. “Looks like I saved
Smithback said nothing. He was trying to shut out the horrifying, anguished screams, fainter now and distorted by the tunnel. The sound of roaring water grew clearer and more menacing.
The event had demoralized the group. “We’ll be all right if we just hold hands!” Smithback heard the Mayor shout. “Keep the chain intact!”
Smithback gripped D’Agosta’s hand as hard as he could. They waded downstream in the darkness.
