the elevator and crushing his windpipe, letting his own considerable weight work against him. He flailed and struck out with wild, irrational hands against Matt’s arms and face, but Matt held firm on the ax handle until the guy slowed and eventually went slack. Matt let him drop beside his twitching, unconscious buddy just as the elevator came to a slow stop at the bottom of the shaft.
Matt leapt down into the cab of the elevator, landing in a crouch with the ax ready to swing. Stacy was right beside him, fists raised to her cheeks and body coiled like a pissed-off cobra. The elevator dinged softly and the doors slid open.
No one was there. Just an empty, brightly lit cement corridor on the other side of the door.
Matt and Stacy exchanged a cautious glance. Then Matt leaned out of the elevator to case the layout.
The elevator let them out in the middle of a long, curved hallway that made the set of
The Andromeda Strain
look cozy and inviting. The ends, if the hallway did end and wasn’t a complete circle, were hidden beyond the curve on both sides. No visible break except for a pair of steel doors about twenty feet down the left side. No other way out, no alternate escape routes, no cover. Just that long, hollow stretch of concrete.
But it wasn’t just the logistics of navigating that hallway without being seen or caught. There was a weird psychic residue in this place, some secret, unspeakable awfulness that made the simple dimensions of that hallway seem to resonate with jangling unease.
“I don’t like it,” Matt said out of the corner of his mouth.
Stacy wasn’t listening. She was off and running down that hallway before Matt could blink. He still didn’t like it, but it didn’t look like he was going to have any choice in the matter. Going anywhere with that young hothead was like being strapped to a rocket. He really needed to take her aside and try to chill her out before things got out of hand. Which, if things were as bad down here as he suspected they might be, would be sooner rather than later. He followed close behind Stacy, ax in hand.
When they reached the steel doors, Matt put a hand on Stacy’s shoulder.
“Okay, listen,” he said. “We need to be real careful here. Be smart. You want to find and help your friend, not get us both killed, right?”
Stacy looked up at Matt, rusty red eyebrows drawn together. She nodded slowly, skeptical.
“So let’s take it slow. Case the place thoroughly and get as much information as possible before we take any kind of action.”
She looked up at him with a suspicious squint.
“Trust me on this,” Matt said. “I’ve dealt with situations like this once or twice before. Now that doesn’t have anything to do with you being a woman. I’ve seen what you can do—more than most men I know. So I’m not trying to boss you around here. I’mjust saying that we need to work together. That can’t happen if you go barreling in there like a mad dog.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
Matt wondered if he was actually getting through to her or if she was just saying whatever she thought he wanted to hear so he’d get out of her way, but there was nothing else he could say about it. She’d either go along with it and follow his lead, or she wouldn’t, and he’d have to deal with the consequences. Nothing to do now but go on through those doors and find out what was on the other side. He used the hand on Stacy’s shoulder to gently back her up a step and then slipped in front of her. Then he eased one of the doors open a slow, careful inch.
On the other side of the steel doors was a huge round amphitheater that had been carved out of the raw rock belly of the mountain. The layout was disturbingly familiar. There were rings of shallow circular stone steps leading down to the sunken center, forming very crude stadium-style seating, currently empty. He didn’t have to wonder where he’d seen something like this before; the original still haunted him in