
"Thom," Raj said briskly. "This has gone too far; this is seriously strange. We should fall back and report. Now."
Reluctantly, the other man nodded. And—
CRANG. The door above their heads slammed shut so quickly that the huge musical note of the pry bar breaking was almost lost in the thunder-slam of its closing. A fragment of the steel bar cannoned across the corridor and ricocheted back, falling at Raj's feet. He bent to touch it, and stopped when his skin felt a glow from the torsion-heat of breakage. Thom was standing and examining the linked belts; the buckle that had fastened them to the bar was missing, and the tough reptile hide cut as neatly as if it had been sliced with a razor. Raj felt a giant hand seize his chest, squeezing, tasted bile at the back of his throat.
"Well," he said, and heard it come out as a croak. "Well, it is still active."
Thom nodded jerkily. "Notice something about the skeletons?" he said.
Raj looked around. "Pretty dead."
"Yes, and no marks on the bones. Looks like they fell in place, and nothing disturbed them."
Raj Whitehall nodded. The surviving skeletons were eerily complete, like an anatomy model; no toothmarks, nothing disturbed by scavengers.
"I don't think there's much point in going that way," he answered, waving to the darkness on their right. The beam of his lamp showed nothing but the walls of the corridor, fading to a geometric point with distance. "That heads due east, near as I can tell." Out from under the city and towards the hills. "If there's anything beyond that. . light. . we might find another shaft leading up."
