“Then let’s make a run for the future,” Ryan answered. “Walk fast, but don’t run. Floor’s too dangerous, and we don’t know what we might encounter while we’re moving. Follow me close, we won’t have much time.”
Ryan set the pace, which alternated between a quick jog and a brisk walk. He kept Jak close behind him in hopes the younger man’s superior night vision might help to avoid any pitfalls.
“Getting hot,” Dean said. “Starting to sweat.”
“Boy’s right.” J.B. called out from the rear of the convoy.
The albino tensed. “Don’t call me boy.”
“Not youthe other kid.”
“Blast you, J.B.” Dean snarled under his breath.
“Save your breath for running,” Ryan barked. “We’re going to need all our energy to make it out of here in one piece.”
“Feels like rain,” Krysty said, feeling her hair tightening on her head.
On those words, a lengthy overhead pipe that stretched endlessly forward and back began to release a fine misting of water at any and all stress points. Rancid-smelling water fell down on them like a curtain, adding to the decreased visibility in the tunnel.
“This shit will soak us all to the skin soon enough,” Ryan said.
“Least water not cold,” Jak answered.
The pipe continued its downpour as the group raced down the narrow and winding passage. The trip was taking on a definite air of unreality. Instead of minutes, it felt as though they had been slogging through the darkness for hours, day upon night in the confines of the tunnel, and all of it had been dank, dark and wet.
“Is it my imagination, or is this water getting higher?” J.B. asked.
“To waist level now,” Jak said. “Not a problem. Got to be near the exit soon,” Ryan argued.
“What that?” Jak said, coming to a complete stop and reaching out a hand to slow Ryan.
A hissing noise could be heard. Ryan had missed it. The labored rasp of his own breathing mixing with the sound of the leaking pipes overhead had masked the soft sibilant sound. Now that the group had stopped moving, they could feel the warm moisture hovering in the dank air, mixing with the tepid downpour from above.
“Keep moving. Slow until we get around the corner,” Ryan ordered.
As the new corner was turned, the group discovered the source of the sound.
Down the passage, a broken steam pipe had fallen inward, blowing what seemed to be an endless wet heat out in a billowing cloudy mass.
“This could be a problem,” J.B. stated, his glasses already fogged over with condensation.
“Yeah, I know. Can’t shoot a cloud of steam.”
“We could wait,” Mildred offered. “No supply of hot water is endless. Let it run until the supply is exhausted, then go past.”
“No time. I don’t want to get caught down here with nowhere to run or hide.”
“Jesus!” Mildred suddenly screamed. “I felt something brush against my leg!”
“Everybody, freeze,” Ryan said.
“I feel it, Ryan,” Mildred said. “Or felt itwhatever it is. The damn thing rubbed up against my leg.”
J.B. pulled his Tekna blade. “Think we got a snake. Big one.”
Ryan swiftly drew his own panga. “I hate snakes.”
“So much for leaving Freedom unmolested,” Doc said. “Perhaps this snake is nonpoisonous.”
“What, you’re a herpetologist now, too?” Mildred said in a voice colored with anxiety as she struggled to keep still.
“No, Dr. Wyeth, but I do know that most water snakes are harmless,” Doc replied patiently. “While I am not fond of the slithering set myself, the odds are on our side the one you have discovered is merely as lost as we are.”
“You want to take a chance on that, Doc?” Ryan asked.
Tanner shook his head. “Of course not. I am merely pointing out some facts.”
“Let this thing slither by one of your skinny ankles, and we’ll see who calls what harmless,” Mildred suggested, her dark eyes scanning the water.
“Primitive man worshiped the serpent as a creature of great supernatural power, you know. The serpent was sacred to Asclepius, the Greek god of healing. The caduceus, a mighty staff with two entwined snakes, was carried by Hermes of Greek mythology, and is our universal symbol of modern medicine. As a physician yourself, I fail to”