Page 20 of So Insane

Kinzel’s lips thinned further, but he nodded curtly. “Very well. I’ll be here coordinating. If you find anything, call me immediately.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Marshal, sir,” Jones said with a playful grin.

Michael turned around so Kinzel wouldn’t see his smile.

“You two can take the truck,” Jones said, “I like my Jeep better anyway.”

He tossed Faith the keys. She caught them with one hand and said, “Thank you. We’ll head out now.”

When they left the room, Michael asked. “You sure you don’t want to wait until morning?”

“No,” Faith said, “We have two people missing.”

“We have two people dead, Faith,” Michael replied. “Let’s be reasonable.”

“That doesn’t mean that we give up,” she countered. “Miracles happen. Even if they don’t happen in this case, there’s a chance we could at least catch their murderer.”

“I’m just worried that we’re going to end up sleep-deprived and not functional in the morning,” Michael said. “I’m not trying to whine about needing sleep, but the reality is we do need sleep, and there have been cases in the past where not getting enough of it has threatened our judgment.”

“I understand that,” Faith said, “but Tooley will almost certainly know that as well. Or whoever the killer is. They’ll be moving at night when they know we’re less likely to look. So we have to look.”

“All right,” Michael said, “that’s fine with me. Maybe we just take turns sleeping when we get to the top.”

“Sure,” Faith said. “That works.

She didn’t anticipate needing sleep that badly, but if Michael needed it, he was welcome to it. Faith’s larger concern was his general disconnect from the case. It seemed to her that he had checked out and was only here to do the minimal amount of work necessary to solve the case and go home so he could get back to Ellie and away from Faith.

She told herself that she was just being paranoid, but when they reached the old SUV and Michael immediately leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was his way of avoiding her. When Turk also closed his eyes and settled in for a nap, she decided she really was just being paranoid and let it go.

She looked out the window at the narrow sliver of crescent moon remaining. Tomorrow, the sky would be lit only by the stars, a breathtaking sight but a useless one as all of the stars combined couldn’t offer enough light to dispel the shadow that fell over the landscape.

It occurred to her for the first time how truly sheltered urban environments were. In Philadelphia, night was never truly night. It was darker than the day, of course, but it was never hard to see where one was going. There were lights everywhere—streetlights, headlights, signs and even the glow of interior lights shining through windows and curtains.

She switched the Bronco’s brights on, and a swath of road ahead illuminated enough for Faith to navigate around potholes and over the small rocks and ruts that lined the mountain road. It wasn’t enough to banish the darkness, but it was enough to see where she was going.

That would have to suffice.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dawn under the mountain was not signaled by light, but by scent. The dew moistened the air, cooling it and driving it underground where it would remain before the afternoon’s warmth lifted it out, creating the sighs and moans that those above believed to be the ghosts that haunted these tunnels.

The dweller knew that those tricks of the wind were only tricks and nothing more. The ghosts here spoke, but not with sound. The dweller felt them as an impression, a pull or a push in the right direction. Not everyone could feel those pushes. In fact, the dweller was firmly convinced that none but himself knew what the wraiths of this place wanted.

At the moment, though, it wasn’t the will of the wraiths that led him but the scent of the girl he had kidnapped. Like most people, she wore a combination of perfumes, makeups and deodorants that all but shouted her presence to any of the predators lurking nearby.

The dweller knew of several of those predators—bears, cougars and coyotes—that hunted nearby, but none, not even the bears, entered the caves. Even if they did, they would have no reason to attack a prey so worthless as the girl. They had far larger and more nutritious animals to worry about.

The dweller, though, hunted not for food but for justice. That was worth the effort he had to expend to follow the girl through the endless maze of tunnels and caverns and shafts that man and nature had conspired to build.

He moves calmly, occasionally stopping to pick up the echoes of her footfalls or sniffing the air to ensure he followed the freshest scent and avoided backtracking through tunnels he’d already navigated.

He heard the echo of a cry from a nearby tunnel and headed toward it. He sniffed and recognized this tunnel as the one where he’d left the last trespasser. A smile stretched his lips. She had found his body, it seemed.

Footfalls echoed through the tunnel. The dweller stopped to listen, focusing on every sound that filtered through to his ears. His hearing, like his sense of smell, had sharpened to inhuman levels after twenty years living underground, and he was able to determine the exact tunnel the latest trespasser was taking.

She was doing better than the one before her. The man had simply run in circles before finally giving up and collapsing to the floor. The dweller almost waited to kill him. It was a mercy more than a judgment to end the life of someone so pathetic.

This one was not nearly so pathetic. She was wandering certainly, but each turn brought her closer and closer to the exit. If he let her, she would find her way out and escape.

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