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

workers who flooded into the Loop every morning. We would know as the cars grew more numerous that we were nearing the booths. People coming to the festival this evening would have parked as near the exits as possible. Which was exactly what I had done. Jeremy and I had parked on level one. My Jeep— so near and yet so far.
     
     
The tollbooths had cashiers, but the booths were at the top of the ramp, wherever that was. The place was just so damn huge! Guards patrolled on some random sort of schedule, though, and as we got closer to the center, finding one should be easy.
     
     
I heard footsteps. There must be a guard up ahead.
     
     
"Hurry, Jeremy!"
     
     
We ran. "Guard! Help!" I yelled.
     
     
My voice echoed off the tiled walls.
     
     
And so did the footsteps. They were an echo, too. In fact they came from behind us.
     
     
A shot spanged against one of the support pillars. "Quick," I said, pulling Jeremy along with me.
     
     
Maybe a guard would hear the shot and come running. Sure. But he'd get here after we were dead. Or be shot himself.
     
     
We ran flat out. Grant Park Underground has emergency call phones at intervals, installed here after a series of rapes several years ago. As we raced by, I grabbed one. I couldn't take the chance of stopping to actually talk on it, but I gave it a toss and left it hanging by its cord. Maybe that would bring a guard. Maybe each phone read out its location somewhere in a central security control booth. I hoped it did.
     
     
But I'd bet they'd get here too late.
     
     
We ran on, hearing slapping footsteps running behind us. I flipped another phone off its cradle as we pelted past.
     
     
There were access tunnels where drains and electric cables threaded their way out of the garage. They were much smaller than the tunnel we had been in before, but there were several of them. Maybe we could confuse the man pursuing us.
     
     
"This one," I said aloud, and then as Jeremy turned toward it, I waved my hand to another just beyond. A gamble, but maybe our guy heard me, and if so, would follow the wrong trail. We plunged inside.
     
     
As soon as we got in the narrow tunnel, I put a hand on Jeremy's chest, slowing him down. Then I walked rapidly, but with exaggerated care. He imitated me. There were bulbs in wire cages along here, but they were at best twenty-five watts and two out of every three were burned out. Very shoddy maintenance; what do we pay our taxes for? Twenty-five watts is plenty to see by, though, in an otherwise completely dark place. I was grateful for them but fearful that they would let our pursuer see us. When we passed into a dark stretch, I stopped and looked back at a light a hundred yards behind. No figure passed into that yellow glow. Maybe we were safe.
     
     
As long as we didn't get lost. We came to places where the tunnel branched. The first split was a narrow-angle fork, and it seemed a good idea to take the right-hand one, because it was smaller. Jeremy was a small child. I'm a short adult. Therefore the man who was chasing us had to be larger than we were, since virtually all adults are larger than I am. At the second, which was a T-junction, we took the left. Later a right. If we got completely lost and needed to come back, I should be able to remember that we'd gone right, left, and right again, alternately.
     
     
Something brushed against my ankle. I jumped in terror, hitting my head on the low cement ceiling.
     
     
The cat had followed us through the garage and into the new maze of tunnels.
     
     
Jeremy kept up with me. But he was making soft whimpering noises, quietly enough so I doubted he could be heard. The signal was clear, though. He was near the end of his rope. I could feel a buzzing in the hand I held against his back, as if his chest were full of bees.
     
     
    * * *
The tunnel was not only cramped but extremely unsavory. The farther we walked, the more horrible the odor became. I had recently done a short article