Hard Road by Barbara D'Amato Read Free Book Online Page A

guards and cashiers and real, live people. If we could find it, we might get help. For now, we had to hold still.
     
     
While we waited, the bigger-than-a-rat creature came padding back. This time I looked carefully, trying to make use of the thin, almost colorless glow.
     
     
It was a cat! Only the general shape and the slinky movement told me. "You may have saved our lives," I whispered to it.
     
     
It didn't care. It sat down and licked a paw.
     
     
When I decided that our stalker couldn't still be nearby or we'd have heard him, I whispered to Jeremy. "Come with me. We have to be very quiet."
     
     
If I'd been alone, I might have been able to hunker down silently here behind the pillar all night, and hope the pursuer would give up and leave. Or maybe that he'd have to give up because otherwise his absence from the festival would be noticed, and as a result he'd later have no alibi. But we couldn't wait any longer. I didn't believe Jeremy could stand it. He'd been wonderful so far, but he was a little child, and he was very scared.
     
     
Not without reason.
     
     
I peered around the pillar as well as I could, but unless the man was using a flashlight somewhere down deep in the tunnel, my chance of seeing him was pretty close to nil. I listened, and listened some more. Once or twice I thought I picked up very distant, very faint sounds. But face it, the sounds could be rats. There might even be traffic noise from up above. No question there were ventilation grates a lot of places along these tunnels.
     
     
Holding Jeremy's hand, I ventured out of the alcove. "Be careful not to kick any trash," I whispered directly into his ear. He squeezed my hand instead of responding aloud.
     
     
Must remember later, when we've survived, to tell him that he's not only brave but also smart.
     
     
    * * *
We must have looked like two cats ourselves, our body language softly sinuous, as we slunk along the tunnel. I had decided to take the small tunnel into the unknown, rather than go back to the bigger tunnel, reasoning the stalker most likely would eventually return the way he had come. He would probably try to trace us back to the vent where we had entered. Also, I was quite sure that Grant Park Underground was somewhat south of where we went into the grid. At the very least, most of it was south. To the east was Lake Michigan and to the west was Michigan Avenue. I was pretty sure we hadn't gone far enough west to be under Michigan Avenue in the old freight tunnels, but why take a chance? South it was.
     
     
The cat followed.
     
     
With eyes completely adapted to the dark by now, I could see a very faint hint of yellowish light ahead. Maybe I'd made the right choice.
     
     
Holding hands, we tiptoed along the cement floor of the tunnel, toward the distant illumination. If our stalker was sneaking up behind, he'd see us against the glow. But what else could we do? We had to find either some people or a way out of here, and where there's light, there should be people.
     
     
Now I was hurrying, almost pulling Jeremy, although careful not to tug on his arm, trying not to frighten him more than he was already.
     
     
The light grew stronger. The light at the end of the tunnel, I thought in my head— an oncoming train? —and I came close to giggling. I stifled it. That really would have freaked Jeremy.
     
     
There was a bend up ahead. When we reached it, I saw that the walls in this part of the tunnel were tiled with snow-white glossy ceramic squares. How weird! How useless! Maybe this was an abandoned subway stop. There were a dozen or more of those scattered under the city. As we came into the light, I saw— glory be! —cars! Parked cars.
     
     
"Come on, honey! We'll find a guard."
     
     
We ran. The cars were thinly scattered here, with a lot of empty spaces. We were at the far edge of this garage level, the less desirable parking spaces, and the few cars left must be the remnants of the overflow of the day