Blout was screaming as well. He couldn’t see us, so he had no idea I was about to hit. I hoped the sudden jolt didn’t drag him over the edge.

“I’m here!” I warned. I saw his fingers flex and spread wide, ready to grab hold.

Another second, another swell of brain and our hands met. Blout had me. But Mo’Lock was slipping. I reached with my free hand, grabbed for his suit coat and got it, but the rapids threw and twisted him and the collar tore.

“Mo’Lock!” I cried out, dangling in the air.

Blout pulled me out of the torrent. As I hit dry ground I got a glimpse of Mo’Lock being taken away by the rapids. He flailed his arms and yelled something I couldn’t make out. Then he was gone.

26

I was on solid ground. I rose to my knees and pounded my fist on the dirt. “Damn!”

Blout was right there beside me. “Christ, are you all right?”

I felt his hand on my shoulder, and swung my head around to face the big man. I was pumped. I must have looked like a rabid dog, but this thing wasn’t over. I had to stay pumped or I’d drop like a rag doll.

Blout’s slacks were wet from the knees down. He’d gotten himself out before the tunnel filled. “How’d you get up here?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t. I found a manhole back a ways. I climbed out there, doubled back, and came here,” he said, impressed with himself. “What the hell happened down there?”

“You don’t want to know, trust me,” I said. “But Cain’s dead.”

Blout jumped. “You sure this time?”

I nodded and started walking away. “It ain’t over yet. We’ve got to get to Whitney Green.” I stopped, and turned. “Did you get the heads?”

Blout shuddered visibly, but nodded. “I left them at the entrance.”

“Thanks. You’re a pal.”

Outside the tunnel I picked up the heads. Blout had wrapped them in his jacket, and they were pleased to hear the danger had passed. I told them what had happened and they were as anxious as I was to rescue Mo’Lock.

“Mo’Lock’s as tough as they come,” said the head called Tyus. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

I wasn’t so sure, but agreed anyway.

Blout stood by, watching me converse with the two disembodied heads with an air of absolute disgust. Then he went to his car to radio for backup. I heard him mention Whitney Green. I didn’t like it. I had to get there before any cops did.

I ran to the road. Cars were whizzing by in pre–rush hour panic. I tucked the bundled heads under my left arm, and with my right waved to passing taxis. Blout was yelling as a cab screeched to a halt. I ignored him. I opened the back door of the cab and tossed in the bundle as Blout ran toward me.

I waved him off. “Wait for the backup. Meet me at the Green.”