Nothing was missing. The box was stillinside the backpack. Brandy’s wallet was still in her purse, aswere her keys and cell phone. After a quick inventory, Brandyconfirmed that everything but their clothes had been returned.

Except that Albert’s wallet and keyswere still in his jeans.

Unable to do anything about it regardless,Albert dismissed his missing property for the time being andslipped the backpack onto his naked back. He then turned andstudied the statue again.

Without the items dangling from its hands itlooked less like a pose of godly offering than a pose of worship.And yet, what was there to worship in this empty corridor? Hewished the damn things wore faces.

“Well,” said Brandy, “we have our bags.” Shepoked a cigarette into her mouth and lit it.

“Yeah, but not our clothes.”

“Yeah. I feel so weird walking around likethis.”

“Me too.”

“Do we keep going?”

Albert nodded. “I think we should.”

He began to walk. Brandy drew the strap ofher purse over one arm and her head and then followed, theircombined wardrobe consisting entirely of a purse, a backpack, apair of glasses and the jewelry they wore—two watches, four rings,a necklace and a pair of earrings between them. The two of themdescended into the next tunnel, hand in hand, wielding a singleflashlight between them.

Albert wondered how far they had traveledand if they were still under the Hill. He thought that they must beat least beyond the limits of the campus, and possibly even outsideof the city, but they very well could be right back where theystarted, hundreds of feet beneath the entrance to the servicetunnel. He wished there was some way of knowing just how far downthey’d gone, how much rock and dirt was between the two of them andthe world that knew sunlight.

Albert stopped before they had walked thirtyfeet. He almost didn’t notice the subtle shift in the color andangle of the stone. The path ahead lay under water, and the surfacewas as still as a pane of glass.

Once more Brandy uttered her preferredfour-letter word, but Albert barely heard her. He turned, suddenlyvery nervous, and looked back the way they’d come.

“What?”

“Whoever took our clothes didn’t come thisway.”

“What?”

“That water’s as still as ice. Nothing’sdisturbed it recently.”

“Are you sure?” The fear in her voice wasunmistakable. He wished he was better at keeping his concerns tohimself. He was sure this would be much easier for her if she couldjust believe that they were alone down here. “How is that possible?The bags.”

“Whoever it was,” Albert explained, “musthave come this way, dropped your glasses and the flashlight, thenhung the bags and backtracked. Probably while we were stillsleeping.” Albert remembered fumbling around in the dark after heawoke in the sex room and wondered if whoever was doing this tothem passed by him there and then, close enough to touch, butunseen in the darkness. The thought made him shiver.

Brandy squeezed his hand and drew closeagain. Another of those sick noises escaped her throat. He knew howshe felt.

Albert stared back up the path, wishing hecould see through the darkness. Then an idea struck him. “Stayhere.” Without waiting to see if she would actually stay, he joggedback up the tunnel, removing his backpack as he went.

But the thought of remaining behind andletting him run off into the darkness was unacceptable. She ranafter him, desperate not to let him out of her reach. “Waitup!”

“I’m coming right back.” But she wasn’tlistening. With Brandy on his heels, unwilling to be left alone,Albert ran back up the slope toward the praying statue. Abouthalfway there he stopped and began to rifle through thebackpack.

Brandy watched as he withdrew the paint canand removed the lid. He placed both on the floor, spacing them outso that they would be hard to miss in the darkness. She immediatelyunderstood his plan. Without a light, anybody following them wouldlikely trip over one or the other, causing one or both of theobjects to roll down the gentle slope to the water. The noise wouldalert them if they were still anywhere in the vicinity.

With one quick look back up the slope towardthe statue, he grabbed Brandy’s hand and hurried back to the stillpool of water at the bottom of the tunnel.

“Can you go on?”

“Through the water?”

“Yeah.”

The look on her face told him she didn’tthink so.

“Come on. I’ll go first, but you have tostay close.”

The mirrored surface shattered as Albert’sfoot struck the water and a shimmering ripple of reflected lightinstantly flooded the room. It was cold, probably the sametemperature as the cool air that surrounded them, but upon theirnaked flesh it was hard to believe it could be so cold withoutfreezing. Behind him, Brandy gasped, the cold as sudden as anelectrical shock on her bare toes.

“So cold,” she hissed, and Albert could hearthe shiver in her voice.

“I know,” he said. “Just be strong,okay?”

“Okay.”

Albert had hoped that the water was onlyknee deep or so, but step by step it grew deeper and deeper as thefloor sloped downward, slowly creeping up their sensitive thighs tothe base of their buttocks, and mercilessly climbing the tenderflesh of their lower backs and bellies. Violent shivers racedthrough them. Their teeth hammered together. Albert felt the weightchange on his back as the backpack filled with water, growinglighter and lighter as more of its weight slipped beneath thesurface.

As the water reached Brandy’s armpits, shewhimpered Albert’s name, a pitiful, broken sound no louder than awhisper.

“I know,” said Albert again, his voice nostronger than hers. “I know. Just a little farther.”

The flashlight dipped beneath the water andtheir submerged bodies were illuminated by the glow. Albert couldsee nothing below the surface. No fish or frogs or snakes madetheir home here. It was pure and clean, which was certainly good,but the cold made it hard to relish such fortune.

The water slipped over their shoulders andthey began to swim, their feet losing the welcome touch of thestone, and as they pushed farther, the ceiling drew down upon them.Albert prayed that the tunnel did not submerge completely.

The backpack, now fully soaked, again beganto work against Albert, threatening to drag him down as hestruggled forward. But he did not have time to think about it. Atthat moment, from somewhere in the darkness at their backs, camethe clang and clatter of the paint can as it rolled down the slopeof the tunnel. Albert’s trap was sprung.

“Albert!” This time Brandy’s voice was sharpand clear, tinged with a harsh edge of panic.

“Come on!” They swam on, struggling againsttheir shivers. Behind them, the paint can continued its long chorusof clanging and clattering as it tumbled down to the water where itwas finally silenced with a hollow splash.

Albert was suddenly thankful for their lackof clothes. It made swimming easier and he knew they would dry muchmore quickly without their jeans and shoes. But even with thisgoing for them they’d be lucky to get out without catchingpneumonia.

He could hear Brandy gasping and spittingbehind him. It was hard to swim in water this cold. The shiveringinterfered with breathing, making each breath a struggle andtherefore every stroke more laborious than the last.

Suddenly the flashlight fell dark andAlbert’s panic was matched only by Brandy’s terrified shriek. Shegave it a violent shake and light again flooded the passage.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, but he knew thewater wasn’t good for the batteries. A battery-powered flashlightcould shine for hours underwater, the charge merely spent faster,but it could possibly cause further blackouts like the one theyjust experienced, and they needed the light in this place.

It occurred to Albert that the ceiling wasagain retreating from their heads, and when he tried to touchbottom he found that he could. “Almost there,” he told her. “It’sgetting shallower.”