“This looks more like a storm drain than a tunnel,” Kegan said when they were at the entrance to the tunnel. “And for sure it’s not under downtown.” He shone the powerful flashlight he was holding down it.
“Semantics, I suspect,” Gage replied, using his own flashlight to light the way as he started walking. “According to the info in the file, we’ve got a long walk until we get to where Ash left the body.”
“At least we’ve got some artwork to entertain us,” Kegan commented, gesturing toward the graffiti covering the walls.
After that, they quit talking as they splashed through puddles for the first hundred yards, or more. Kegan wasn’t certain of the distance, as he was easing past prone forms that appeared every so often, huddled in tattered blankets or sleeping bags. Occasionally someone
