He had taken advantage of the one piece of cover available to him: the ceiling. The water and heating pipes ran close to the top of the wall on one side of the tunnel, and on the other was a series of brackets that had, in the predark days, probably held steady a series of electric cables that had long since perished or been removed. The more recently placed brackets on which the lamps were hung ran below the level of pipes and the old bracket. This was crucial.
As the shuffling and humming neared the bend of the corridor, Jak had taken hold of the high brackets on one side of the tunnel and heaved himself up toward the ceiling, swinging his legs up with a tremendous kick and planting his feet above the level of the pipes so that his heels rested on the pipes themselves. The sweat of his effort plastering his brow, he had then swung one hand over, twisting his narrow and wiry frame so that he was able to turn completely and balance. Instead of facing the ceiling, with his back arched, he was now molded to it, facing down so that he could see whoever walked beneath.
He hoped that the ceiling was high enough, and the shadows deep enough, to mask him from whoever walked beneath.
He was lucky. The lamplighter was absorbed in his task, now nearly complete, and was content to light his lamps and retire. The thought of looking above him never even entered his head.
The lamplighter passed beneath, lighted the last lamp and turned to shuffle back. He walked underneath Jak without the slightest awareness that the albino, drawing slight and shallow breaths to keep as quiet as possible, was poised above him. As the lamplighter shuffled past, Jak dropped noiselessly behind him, timing the fall so that the edge of his out-stretched hands chopped at the base of the lamplighter’s neck, where the carotid artery passed along by his collarbone.
The blow was swift and sure. The lamplighter fell without even a sigh. Jak lifted himself from the ground, checked that the man was still breathing, then left him. The albino would have no qualms about chilling the man if it was necessary, but to do so in these circumstances would arouse more suspicion than leaving him alive.
Jak moved off swiftly and silently.
“DARK NIGHT! Where in the rad-blasted hell have you been?” J.B. barked as Jak appeared in front of him.
“Time look around. Tell later,” Jak said quickly, taking the Armorer to one side. “Anyone miss me?”
“Apart from us, you mean?” J.B. said through gritted teeth, shaking his head to indicate a negative to Jak’s question.
They were in what seemed to be the center of the ville, a small collection of tunnels with higher ceilings and wider pathways than the majority of the settlement. There were stalls laid out with goods, and units where services were offered. No one appeared to live in this section, which was occupied with the commerce of the ville—or what passed for commerce, as no money seemed to change hands. When J.B. answered the solicitations of one vendor with the comment that he had little money, it was explained to him that the ville worked on a communal system, and services and traders worked more as men in charge of distribution than as merchants.
So with the inhabitants able to get what they wanted, the center of the ville was always full of people coming and going. Which made it difficult for J.B. to mask his surprise and anger when Jak suddenly appeared before him.
“Need talk. Something weird going on,” Jak said in an undertone, mindful of those passing.
The Armorer assented. “We split up to try and find you—and not look like we were looking,” he muttered. “Why did you take off like that?”
“Bad feelings. Not doomie, but sometimes…” Jak screwed up his face.
“Yeah, I know,” J.B. agreed, anger dissipated by the look on the albino’s face. “I know. Come on. Let’s find the others.”
They had only gone a few yards when Harvey and Bodie appeared before them, from out of the crowd surrounding a food stall.