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“I know where we are.”
“Where?”
“It’s part of the underground Seattle tunnel system that was abandoned when it began caving in.”
In the early days of Seattle, the city had original y been built a lot lower than now. After a horrendous fire in 1889, the city streets had been rebuilt one to two stories above the original streets. For a time, customers would climb up and down ladders between the original buildings and the newer sections of the city, but eventual y, al of Seattle sprawled across the higher levels, and although the subterranean network remained hidden and unused, it was stil a viable network of passages beneath the city.
“I thought the Underground Tour stopped a number of blocks away,” I said.
Chase shook his head. “It does. The tour only covers a smal portion of what was the original underground city. There actual y used to be a series of nightclubs down here—not in this area in particular, but running the length of the tunnels. But they closed up one after another as the structural integrity of this area weakened, and eventual y most of the areas were abandoned, forgotten and hard to get to. I had no idea the tunnels ran al the way into the Greenbelt Park District, but that makes perfect sense.”
A chil ran up my spine. This city was getting spookier by the second. Memories of The Night Stalker flashed through my head. Delilah loved Darrin McGavin, and I’d had to break it to her that he was dead.
“So what’s that cubbyhole? That’s too smal to be a nightclub.”
“Some of the shops had basements that became part of the whole underground scene. My guess is that it once belonged to a shop now buried. We’re on a lower level than the regular underground Seattle. We’re in the sub-basement area. I real y had no clue the tunnels spread out this far, or this far belowground.”
I looked right and left. “Which way should we go?”
“Which way leads into the heart of the Greenbelt Park District?” Camil e asked, pul ing off her gloves and tucking them in a side pocket of her skirt. “Since we think the kil er is nesting there, it only makes sense to go in that direction.”
“True. Let me see . . .” I glanced around. “If this tunnel runs north-south, then we want to go north, which would be . . .” Turning to the right, I nodded. “This way. Let’s go. Marching order same as when we descended the ladder. Camil e and Morio, keep a good watch on our backs.”
As we headed down the walkway, Camil e coughed. “The air’s dank here.”
As we headed down the walkway, Camil e coughed. “The air’s dank here.”
“Is it breathable? Are you going to have trouble?” I wouldn’t have to worry, but the rest of them would.
“Yes, we can breathe, but there’s a lot of mold down here, I can tel that right away. Watch for viro-mortis slimes. This would be the prime place to find them.”
As if on cue, my light caught something clinging to the wal to my right. I jumped back as we saw an indigo patch of ooze sliding along paral el to us. The creature sparkled in a pretty, jel ylike fashion, but that was as good as it got. The indigo viro-mortis slime was deadly.
“It can sense our body heat,” Camil e said, wrinkling her nose. “Just don’t touch it or we’l al be in trouble.”
Sometime back, Delilah had gotten a green viro-mortis slime attached to her hand and we had to have Smoky freeze it off. He wasn’t with us now, and the indigo varieties were far more poisonous. The creatures acted a lot like the Blob—growing as they enveloped and assimilated their victims. Being digested alive by a living pile of snot was not my idea of a good time.
“Just leave it be, and watch what you touch.”
As we headed along the tunnel, I kept my flashlight sweeping from side to side. The fact that there were viro-mortis slimes around meant that we probably had to watch out for other nasty creatures. Al sorts of denizens hung around in the dark, waiting for the next unwary traveler to come along: ripe pickings for dinner.
More boxes and another cubbyhole to the right. I briefly shone my light in the niche, checking it out, but once again it looked like a long-abandoned basement. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and in some spots moisture had worked its way down the wal s to leave trails of mold
—the regular kind—and mildew.
“The city should come down here and clean this crap up,” I muttered.
“Who’s going to pay for it?” Chase said. “Seattle is having budget woes as it is. No, I have the feeling most of the city doesn’t even know this place exists. It isn’t common knowledge that the underground sections comprise more than just what’s shown to tourists on the little jaunt that’s offered.”
The soft cadence of water flowing caught my attention. “Sewer?” I asked after a moment. The others listened, and then Chase shook his head.
“No, sewer wouldn’t make that kind of noise. Underground stream, perhaps.” He paused.
“What’s that? Over there?”
I turned my flashlight to the direction in which he pointed. Another cubby, but this one had something else in it. A cleft in the rocks that made up the sides of the tunnel beckoned.
“I don’t know. Let’s take a look.” As I crept over to the alcove, I motioned for everyone to be silent. The cleft wasn’t as wide as a passage, but definitely wide enough to go single file. I flashed my light down the blackened passage but couldn’t see a thing. “Shal we try it? Just be very careful not to brush against the sides, which means try not to trip or stumble.”
