Venturing Deeper into Danger

The smell changed deeper in the shaft. The damp mold was overwhelmed by a colder metallic scent, as if someone had changed equipment here and wiped away nearly every trace. Ryan stopped at the boundary between wet and dry, made sure there was no moisture left on his soles, then stepped into the "dry section." The stone walls of this short corridor were smoother, and his footsteps no longer echoed. He could clearly tell that more than one person had passed through ahead: the innermost footsteps were heavy and steady, with almost none of the dragging sound of a sliding gait; closer to the outside were fine scrape marks, as if a small person's carried equipment had repeatedly knocked against the corners.

He tucked away the piece of latch he had scraped from the crack and moved slowly along the wall. A thread-thin fiber hung from a crack in the right wall, transparent and tough, its end snapped by the back of a blade. It was not ordinary packing cord, but more like the material used for temporary binding during demolition. Ryan wound it around his finger and stored it close to his body before suppressing his presence and continuing the pursuit.

Up on the street, the rain was still falling hard. After reporting her third directional correction, Melody said no more. She knew that controlled rhythm had entered older pipelines beneath the city. Basho led people to seal two exits north by northeast. The guards tore down a section of rusted security fencing and left surveillance behind. Dalzollene returned to the center of the alert zone and briefly exchanged intelligence with Menchi: the Association would handle cleanup and samples on site, while the mafia would keep pressing "downward." For the moment, neither side would interfere with the other. Morel's