She opened her cell phone, thinking she might use the surveyor map for navigation, but her phone didnt get any service. Perhaps it was just as well. They couldnt afford to waste any time, not when a girls life was at stake. Felix could be on his way to finish her off that very moment.

She felt a cold sense of logic about what to do. We have to split up, she said.

Callaway stared at her, his eyes betraying the same gut-roiling uncertainty she felt herself. Splitting up went against all conventional wisdom because it almost guaranteed one of them would have to deal with the killer single-handedly. If they stayed together and picked the wrong tunnel, however, it could cost an innocent girl her lifeand let the killer get away.

Callaway seemed to understand all this already. He took a slow, bracing breath before nodding to himself. Okay, he said in a low voice, and Harley had the impression there was more he wanted to say, things that would weigh on him if he was never able to say them to her. But there was no time.

If you find him before I do, Callaway added, his mouth a thin grim line, dont approach him. Hes probably armed. Just keep him where he is and wait for me to find you, okay?

Same to you, she answered. Hes stronger than he looks, so dont underestimate him.

She recalled the footage of Felix attacking one of the guests: the speed and strength with which he had shoved the larger man against the bar, and the way he had played with his knife, as if begging for an excuse to use it. She wished more than ever she had her old gun.

Ill be careful, Callaway replied, moving off down the tunnel on the right. Harley could only hope he would take her warning to heart.

Harley took the tunnel on the left, walking for less than a minute before pausing. She strained to hear Callaways footsteps, but the silence was total. The air, too, was dead, smelling of mineral and something faintly animalrat droppings, perhaps.

Studying the weathered tree trunks wedged horizontally beneath the ceiling every dozen feet or so, Harley thought of her brothers warnings about entering these tunnels. I wouldn't go into one of those for a winning lottery ticket, he had said.

Im after something a lot more valuable than a lottery ticket, Harley thought.

Wedging the flashlight into her armpit, she took a moment to wipe her hands which had begun to feel slick and clammy on her pants. Then she pressed on.

The tunnel twisted, and here and there she had to duck beneath an overhang. One time, as she did so, her foot splashed in a shallow pool. Looking down, she saw a footprint etched in the mud next to her shoe.

A mans footprint.