“Without knowing exactly how old it is, Idon’t think there’s any way to know.”

“Do you think it really predates thecity?”

Albert considered it. The construction wasdefinitely very rough. The surfaces were all uneven. It could havebeen built by anyone at any time. It certainly lacked the modernengineering of the newer, concrete tunnels, but that didn’tnecessarily mean much. The ability to dig a successful tunnel inthe first place suggested some level of modern technologicalunderstanding. Didn’t it? “I don’t think so,” he said at last. “Iwonder if it would have survived the New Madrid earthquake.”

Brandy thought about it for a moment whileshe lit another cigarette. “I don’t know. It could have.”

Albert contemplated it for a moment. The NewMadrid earthquake was one of the largest ever recorded in theUnited States. It was felt across over a million square miles. Hewondered if such earthquake damage could account for the confusinglabyrinth of tunnels. He supposed it was likely that some of thetunnels would have needed to be rerouted. But then again, hardlyany disaster ever leveled everything man-made. There was avery good chance that this tunnel survived that quake. For all heknew, the rubble through which that last tunnel was laid was froman earthquake-induced cave-in.

“I guess there’s no way to know.”

“Maybe.” Albert paused and looked at the mapagain. “Or maybe the answer to this will tell us.”

“That would be cool.” She leaned in to takea look at the map and let out a smoky breath that danced acrossAlbert’s face. She quickly waved it away, remembering that he didnot smoke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Albert said. “My mom smokes.I’m used to it. Bugs the hell out of my sister though.”

“You have a sister?” she asked as theystarted walking again.

“Yeah. Rebecca.”

“Older or younger?”

“Older. She’s twenty-five.”

“Did she go to school here, too?”

“No. She went to UMSL,” he replied,pronouncing the university by its acronym.

Brandy nodded. “I have some friends who gothere. Why did you decide to come down here?”

“I guess I was looking for a reason toescape,” replied Albert. “Most of the people I went to high schoolwith found colleges in the St. Louis area. I wanted somethingdifferent.”

“Did you not have a lot of friends?”

“No, I had friends. A few, anyway.” But notvery many. He supposed it was a pretty lonely existence where hegrew up. It was not as though his family didn’t love him. He wasclose to his parents and he certainly had no quarrels with Becky,although when he was a boy he’d been the very epitome of theannoying younger brother. But he’d always had his space and theytheirs and those spaces had always been respected. He spent most ofhis time with books and games. He didn’t have the vast number offriends that Becky had, and he didn’t have any interest in thesorts of activities that would have allowed him to make more. Healso lacked the outgoingness of his sister, the cheerleader andhomecoming queen. “How about you?” he asked. “Any brothers orsisters?”

Brandy shook her head. “I’m an only child.Daddy’s spoiled little girl.”

“I’ll bet you have him wrapped around yourlittle finger.”

“Only a little bit.”

Ahead of them, the tunnel forked off. Onebranch sank into the darkness to the left, the other to the right.“That’s the last turn on the map. We go left.”

Brandy turned and shined the flashlight backthe way they’d come. “Did you hear something?”

Albert turned and studied the tunnel. “No.Did you?”

“I don’t know. Probably not. I’m justparanoid.”

“Come on.”

They began to move again. They were gettingclose. Whatever it was the map was leading them toward—if it wasleading anywhere at all—was at the end of that last tunnel. Ifthere were any ill intentions involved in getting them down herethey would soon find out.

“What do you suppose is down the righttunnel?”

“Probably closed off just like it was backthere. Or caved in.”

They turned at the fork and started downwhat the map suggested was the last leg of their trip. They walkedin silence, their conversation having died away completely. Everynow and then one of them would glance back the way they came.Somehow the seed of paranoia had been planted and now they wereoverrun with it.

Albert looked again at Brandy. It seemedsurreal to him that she was actually here. A week ago he could onlyhave fantasized about spending an evening alone with her. Again hewondered what it was that made her decide to come with him. Was itreally just the adventure of it all? He couldn’t help but hope thather decision was at least a little bit about him.

He turned forward again just in time to seea wall materialize out of the gloom. The two of them stopped andstared. It was a dead end.

“What the fuck?” Brandy turned andscanned the tunnel walls with her flashlight, trying to understand.They followed the map step by step, never faltering, they’d evenwaded that nasty, stagnant water, and for what? A dead end? Shestared back the way they’d come, feeling like a rat in a maze withno solution. If whoever gave them the box and the key wanted themdown here for sinister purposes, they were now literally up againsta wall.

Albert walked closer to the wall. Somethingdidn’t look right.

“What now?”

He didn’t reply. He was staring at this newwall. There was something about it.

“Did we take a wrong turn?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we weren’t supposed to go down thistunnel. Maybe this tunnel wasn’t open when the map was drawn.” Hervoice was beginning to rise, fear sliding up her throat in great,wet, slithering clumps. All those stories that scared the hell outof her when she was a girl, those stupid stories about the hauntedtunnels and the old witches with rotting flesh and appetites forchildren began to rise from the forgotten depths of her memory.They eat you alive, one of her friends told her years agowhen she was just a child. They eat you alive so you can feelevery bite!

“I don’t think so.” Albert reached out andtouched the wall. He ran his fingers down it, feeling the roughtexture of the stone. It was different from the surrounding wallssomehow. He pressed his palm against the cold stone and pushed. Thestones tumbled out of the wall with surprisingly little effort andtheir dead-end collapsed into a pile at his feet.

Brandy stared at him in disbelief. “How didyou know to do that?”

“Hell if I know.” He peered into the roomthat was hidden behind the wall, his eyes widening withdisbelief.

“A false wall,” Brandy wondered. “A thousandpeople could have walked right up to that wall and just turnedback. All these walls. All these tunnels. It would be like findinga glass of water in the ocean.” She turned her eyes away from thefallen stones and fixed them on Albert. “But you knew itwould fall down.”

“I didn’t know,” Albert insisted. He did notlook at her, did not hear the accusation in her voice. He waslooking into the next room, the room beyond the map.

Brandy glanced over her shoulder again,quickly this time. She could not help but wonder how trustworthythis man really was. She didn’t really know him, after all. Sheclutched her purse with her free hand, pulling it to her breastlike a lifeboat. Now another thought entered her mind. She couldtoo easily imagine him turning on her down here, far below thestreets of the Hill, where no one could hear her, and raping her,torturing her, murdering her. Down here he could take his time ifhe wanted. He could make her suffer for days. A chill ran throughher as she imagined him turning to face her with the rotten,grinning face of the witch from her childhood nightmares.

Albert leaned into the hole he’d made, hishead disappearing into the next room and another thought crossedher mind instead. Something would be in there, something dead andevil. It would lunge out and drag Albert into the darkness, tearingchunks out of him with its rotten teeth, eating himalive.