The Art of Deception

Echo

When Boldt heard the scream, it came so faintly that he might have mistaken it for something from the street far overhead had it not been for his musical ears. Had it not been for his heightened senses caused by being confined in a damp earthen grave.

“You hear that?” he asked Babcock.

“No … what?”

“Behind us,” Boldt said, turning and aiming his flashlight past her.

She turned to look back as well, as if they might see something more than earth and rotten timbers.

“We’re going in the wrong direction.”

“But the city … the Underground … it has to be this way.”

“We’re going the wrong way,” he said, pushing past her and starting off in the opposite direction.

Babcock stood her ground, allowing him to pass. “You’re making a mistake.”

Boldt called back to her, “It’s mine to make.”

With that, she hurried to catch up to him.