Titan Song by Dan Stout (top 10 ebook reader .txt) 📕

He hesitated, then shook his head. “There’s so many cars and trucks on the street. I don’t know for sure.”

The three of us exchanged a glance. “There’s nothing to do for it now,” Guyer said.

I grunted my agreement, and we moved on until we reached the building’s back entry. We paused at the door, each of us staring at the shreds that remained of the scarlet crime scene tape, dangling impotently from the shattered door frame. We were clearly not the first to arrive.

Jax spoke low. “Are we still doing this?”

I nodded. “If someone else thought to get in here, then it’s even more important that we go ahead.”

He pulled up his shirt and freed his revolver from the pancake holster that nestled against his abs. Jax dressed like a guidepost volunteer but he was lean and muscular, the perfect build for someone about to go trudging through a tunnel system. I was none of the above, but there was no time to fix that.

I drew my weapon as well, and together the three of us entered the building.

Inside, the lights were off, and the walls echoed with our steps. I ran my hand along the wall until I located the light switch. The fluorescents blinked awake, showing us the scene much as we’d left it after arresting Vandie and her crew. The shelves had been picked over, and the items were in disarray. But more importantly, the door to the back section stood open. The warmth and smell of the vents was heavy in the air. Through the doorway, we could see that the entry to the vent system was breeched. Whoever had come before us had either looked in and left it open, or had descended themselves.

Jax and I separated, keeping our backs to the walls and covering each other’s blind spots as well as looking for any telltale sign of movement. Jax stayed silent, slipping into the shadows, as I called out, “Police! Announce yourself and do not move!”

There was no answer, but far below us, echoing up from the hole, a metallic rattle as if a table had been overturned. I suppressed a groan. We not only had an unknown trespasser, we had a competitor in the vents.

Jax looked at me, and I spun an index finger. We made a quick loop of the building, and verified that we were alone. Whoever had come before us was below.

“Well,” I said, “at least this means we don’t have to worry about our backside.” Jax only glared. I made my way to one of the standing tool chests near the girders. “C’mere and help me block the door. Better safe than sorry.”

Together we carry-dragged the tool chest to the door, at least putting some kind of barrier between us and anyone who might follow.

I pulled open the backpack. It held three metal-cased flashlights, three cans of spray paint, and the vent system map.

I shoved a flashlight in one jacket pocket, a spray can in the other, then passed the backpack to Guyer. “We get separated, use the paint to mark where you’ve been.”

Guyer took one of each and handed the bag to Jax, who slipped it over his shoulder.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Much as I’m gonna be.” I looked at Guyer, and she looked at the hole. She and I had a deeper hesitation than Jax. We were about to shatter a taboo we’d been taught since infancy.

I pointed at the ladder disappearing into the hole. “Go ahead, Jax. Youth before beauty.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

Guyer cut between us with a muttered, “Boys,” and headed to the shaft opening.

She descended the ladder rapidly, and by the time I reached the bottom, she was staring into the darkness, hands overlapped at the wrist, sidearm tracking the beam of her flashlight. I was about to say something but swallowed my words as I stepped away from the ladder. The air was thick with invisible webs. I shook my head and blinked, doing my best not to pluck them like guitar strings.

“You okay?” It was Jax. He’d descended in near silence, and now peered at me, a mandible wavering in the flashlight beams.

“Yeah,” I said. “It’s a manna thing.”

“This battery trick of yours seems to have a lot of drawbacks,” said Guyer.

“No shit.” I focused on the beam of our flashlights, and the glint of metal on the ground. A knee-high crate had once held a metal tray with the welder’s tools. It had been dumped on the floor, metal tools scattered ahead of us. Undoubtedly, this was the work of whoever was ahead of us, and the cause of the clatter we’d heard earlier. There was also an array of safety markers, ropes, and flashlights. From the look of them, they’d been used and returned. Whatever Vandie had been doing with the tunnels, it was an ongoing project.

“We’ll need to keep our eyes open.” I lifted one of the ropes from the floor, inspected it, then wrapped it into a coil. “Only pull out the map if we need it.”

“We’re headed into an unexplored tunnel system,” said Jax. “Pretty sure we’re going to need it. And judging from the equipment here, maybe a little more.”

“Put this in the bag.” I handed the coiled rope to Jax. “You remember the rhyme, don’t you?”

I’d insisted we all recite it together, like a parent obsessing over their kid’s homework, until we had it memorized.

“Laughing Larry. Yeah, we got it.” Guyer peered into the darkness. She didn’t say it was the point of no return. She didn’t need to.

We turned left and entered the tunnels.

The stink was overwhelming. I wished for some kind of face mask, but anything other than a full-on gas mask would probably have still let in the stench of rotten eggs and damp soil. But that was expected. What was more surprising was the occasional light source. Much of the tunnels were in total darkness, but there were strange sections lit by an amber glow, as if