The big chestnut tree. That was the marker May would look for.

  "Thank you," she said and quickly left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  The clock was ticking, and May felt the pressure bearing down. At any moment, this survivalist might decide to seal and hide the entrance points, concealing his bunker from the world. And she had no idea when he planned to kill his new hostage, but she feared it would be soon. Would she arrive in time to save this woman’s life?

  Trying to contain her frantic worries, she drove down the track, scanning the surrounding area, keeping a lookout for the crooked chestnut tree that the woman had mentioned. That would be the starting point for her search. She had no idea where it would take her. The noise and the building had happened somewhere close, though. That she did know.

  And this bunker would be very well hidden. That, she was sure of.

  May would have to draw on her childhood experience of playing in the woods, the memories of herself and her sisters developing their woodcraft skills. Lauren had been the best at hiding. Kerry had been the best at finding. And May hadn't been the best at anything.

  She remembered again the inadequacy she had felt when one of her sisters had excelled in one direction and the other in the other.

  But looking back, May realized that maybe, she'd come second in both hiding and finding. And although it wasn't a win, at least the results were consistent.

  Now it was time to see if 'always second and never first' was going to be good enough to find an underground bunker that was hidden from sight by a delusional psychopath.

  There was the chestnut tree. It was time to climb out and start casting around on foot, in the hope that she could find where it was. There might be more than one entrance. He would have covered his tracks. She’d have to search carefully.

  But she had to find it. She had no choice if she was going to save these women, particularly his final victim, the one she worried was expendable.

  May set off into the woods, slipping and slithering in the mud, following trails that seemed to peter out and disappear and then momentarily reappear. She felt a sense of hopelessness pervade her as she searched. These woods were so big! What chance did they have?

  There was a chance, she told herself. There was always a chance.

  She forged on, now starting to feel sweaty with the effort of moving across the rough terrain, with the squelch of her footsteps and the sighing of the wind in the trees.

  And another sound, a strange one, that she picked up.

  At first, she thought it was loose change in her pocket. She clamped a hand over the pocket with her wallet in and continued walking.

  But that strange metallic tapping noise didn't stop. It continued.

  May stopped. She stood utterly still and listened. It was a faint, tapping sound, and it was coming from her right.

  Hardly daring to breathe, she paced toward it. Something was making this sound.

  She remembered what Owen had said about the steel girder. That was what it sounded like. A tapping on steel.

  Hope flared inside her as she wondered if this could be the women doing this to attract attention.

  She guessed that calling out wouldn't do much good when victims were sealed in an underground bunker. Tapping the metal would be a clever way to communicate with the outside world and get the sound to travel.

  It was louder now, almost like a vibration in the earth. She followed it, step by step, listening out, pausing, occasionally taking a wrong turn and having to backtrack.

  She prayed it would continue and that whoever was doing it would carry on for long enough for her to reach it. Even though she had no idea where it was.

  And then, May gasped.

  In front of her, almost invisible under a leafy mass of shrubs, was a weathered wooden door.

  It was buried in the ground. Small, humble, hidden well. If the tapping hadn’t guided her here, she’d never, ever have found it.

  Quickly, May sent the coordinates through. She texted them to Sheriff Jack and to Owen with a brief word: Here.

  Should she wait for them? May hesitated, agonizing over the decision. It would be safer to wait, but that meant safer for her. Not for the new hostage, whose life was at risk, along with the others.

  She knew she’d be going in alone with no backup, and that the man waiting for her would most likely have sophisticated surveillance equipment ready to use. He might even know she was here already.

  No. That was unlikely. But even as she suppressed that fearful thought, May decided the faster she went in, the better. Even if he hadn’t seen her arrive, but was jumpy and expecting the police, he might decide to kill his new victim sooner rather than later.

  She had to try now. If it saved a life, then the danger was worth it.

  Carefully, she pulled opened the door, wrinkling her nose as a stale, damp smell filtered out. The trap door opened wide, and the sloping tunnel beyond headed steeply down into darkness. It was like walking into deepest night, and she had absolutely no idea what might be waiting.

  Or who.

  But one thing she did know was that she couldn't use a light. It might alert the wrong person.

  She closed the door quietly behind her.

  As May crept in, she saw there were occasional lights in the tunnel, so dim that they were more like bright stars. But they were all she had, and she would have to use them. She walked down the tunnel, her feet treading over concrete, the air around her cold and dank. Her pounding heart was the only sound she could hear apart from the soft clipping of her heels on the floor. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and she felt her heart beating in her throat.

  And then, ahead of her, there was a fork in the tunnel. She stopped, unsure which way to go.

  The tunnel branched left and right.

  May thought fast.

  She guessed that one branch would take her to this man’s quarters. Perhaps that was how this layout worked. And the other branch would take her where she needed to go—to the victims.

  She listened out, but the tapping had stopped. There was no more guidance now. She was on her own.

  There was only one choice. Left or right. She had a fifty-fifty chance and knew that the wrong choice might spell disaster.

  May took a deep breath and walked to the left. She followed the tunnel down, then ducked under a low, concrete archway and pushed on. This path was so dark, it almost seemed solid. Her eyes strained in the gloom. The chill took her breath away. The tunnel was rough, and she had to watch her footing.

  There, on the side, there was an annex. Was that a door beyond it?

  May turned to the annex, wanting to check. If it was a door, this might lead to the victims. This could be where they were kept.

  But then, abruptly, all the lights went out.

  May gasped. She'd thought it was dark before. But now, it was solid. She couldn't see a thing. She was buried in blackness.

  She reached out, panic flaring, needing to touch something, because this utter lack of light was dizzying. What had happened? Had the power failed? May groped in the dark, her eyes straining to see, but it was hopeless.

  She felt something solid, a wall. Her hand found the rough concrete and she used it to steady herself, trying her best to orient herself.

  There was the frame of a door in the annex. But were the hostages behind it?

  “Are you in there?” she whispered. “Is anyone there?”

  There was a hush for a moment. And then a voice whispered back, just a thread of sound, from the other side of the door.

  “Be careful. He’s coming for you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  The doomsday survivalist had seen the lady cop from the time she came in. Of course he had. This bolt hole was equipped with top-end cameras—both normal and infrared. Securing his world from intruders was as important as protecting it from the apocalypse.

  So far, nobody had gotten through the layers of security and concealment. But now, she had. This policewoman with the blond ponytail and trim figure—this unassuming girl next door was the one who was going to try and take him down?

  Impossible! But it was happening.

  Rage surged inside him—rage, and a deep, bloody desire for payback. Everyone who was part of this debacle must suffer now.

  It was the assets, they had led her in, he realized.

  "It's them, it's them," he ranted in a crazed whisper as he paced up and down in his small living area where the screens were placed. "They did this, they messed it up. All of this, I did for them. And look what they have done."

  He gritted his teeth so hard that he thought they might break, because he had not put a stop to this in time.

  That constant tapping on the exposed steel was not loud, but it was audible if you were nearby. And he'd been planning to put an end to that tonight. It was one of the rules he was going to enforce later on.

  Now, it was too late for that.

  "I was too slow, I didn't do it in time. Now, we'll all pay," he breathed, seeing his worst nightmare play out in front of his eyes.

  He'd watched her come in on the screens. Breathing deeply, his fists clenched, knowing she was a cop, and that cops were like a plague. Where there was one, there would soon be more.

  But for now, there was only one, and that meant he still had a chance, surely, before more arrived?

  The survivalist’s mind rushed through the options available to him now, those that he needed for his own survival and for theirs.

  He could seal this entrance off. He had planned to do so anyway. If he did it right, it would look as if it was nothing but an old, abandoned passageway where the concrete had caved in, resulting in a dead end. It would seem to them that she must have tried to go in and then turned back.

  There was another entrance, a longer tunnel, that he'd built for exactly that reason and now, he could use it. That was better hidden. So, even as anger flared inside him, he realized he was feeling calm. Feeling prepared. He knew what he must do.

  He flicked through the screens as he watched her, and he knew the time was coming for her to make a decision that would make the inevitable kill easy or just a bit more challenging.

  Step by step she'd paced up the passage as he waited, willing her to turn right. Turn right, please, turn right. If you turn right, you will come to me. Right, led straight to his living quarters. Right would send her walking into his clutches like a fly into a trap.

  He'd waited, holding his breath as she had hesitated.

  And then, he'd let out an angry sigh as she had turned left. Nothing was working for him here. It felt as if his luck had run out, and his plans were collapsing around him.

  "Plans are as good as you make them. Contingency plans are there for a reason," he reminded himself in a hissed whisper. He didn't like the panic in his tone.

  He took a moment to calm himself, looking up, forcing the messy chaos in his head to sharpen. For a while, this was difficult. It had felt as if his thoughts were too fragmented, as if they had dissolved into chaos and that he'd never be able to think coherently again.

  But, with the crisis at hand, he finally found he was able to focus. He breathed and felt the chaos recede.

  "I've come back from worse than this," he reminded himself, and felt his heartbeat slow. There had been worse times when he was younger. He'd come close to death at his father's hands, he knew this.

  He remembered how it had felt on the day he'd finally turned the tables and killed the old man. He'd done it to save himself. And it had felt good.

  All he needed was to do the same again.

  Now, he had a similar job to do. He would punish her for breaking into his world. He had planned this so carefully. He had worked so hard toward it. There was no way he was going to let her sabotage it when he was so close to success.

  Especially since he did have a way to stop her.

  His thoughts finally focused, changing from muddled and disordered into a sharp, clear path that was guided by fury and the need to kill.

  He was surprised at how confident he felt now. He realized he felt much calmer than he had in a long time.

  "I need to keep on top of this now. I need to do what must be done," he muttered, feeling sure that he would succeed.

  She had turned left down the tunnel, and that meant that she was on a collision course with his assets. He had them hidden there. The door was easy to open from the outside. He'd made it that way, because when he brought in a new one, he hadn't wanted to struggle with it.

  But from the inside, he'd adjusted the doors to make them impossible to open.

  His assets were safe. They couldn’t get out. And he would keep them safe by killing her before she got in.

  The survivalist considered his choices. There were various methods he could use. He needed the element of surprise. And he wanted this to be quiet. He had guns, but although they could be used in an emergency, they were rifles, and not ideal for close range, indoor use. In this cramped concrete environment, with its twisting tunnels, there was also the chance of a ricochet. His guns were meant for afterward, to be used for hunting and for defense outside. Of course, if she had a handgun, he could always take it from her. That would work.

  For indoor use, he had a selection of knives, including the ultra-sharp one with the shiny steel blade that he had been planning to use later on the new asset.

  Now, he would have a chance to use it earlier, and he smiled as he looked at it positioned on the wall.

  He took it down.

  The element of surprise would make this kill successful, and he had that planned out too.

  It consisted of two simple parts.

  The first was the pair of infrared goggles that he now put on, fastening them tightly and making sure they were securely in place.

  The second was the light switch.

  Without those faint lights, this place would be plunged into utter blackness. He knew how dizzying, how disorienting, and how terrifying that would be. He'd experienced it before. There, deep down underground, there wasn't a shred of light to be seen.

  Smiling, he snapped the switch off.

  "I'm coming for you," he whispered.

  Holding the knife, he stepped out of the room and began to pace down the corridor, keeping his footsteps utterly silent.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  May’s adrenaline spiked at the whispered warning. She was flooded by a visceral terror because this was like the worst nightmare she could ever imagine.

  He was coming toward her, in the pitch dark, while she stood, dizzy, vulnerable, and helpless. Where was he coming from? How did the woman know this?

  And then, through her panic, she began to think coherently. Slivers of clarity began to pierce the confusion.

  If he was coming for her, he must be able to see her. That meant he must be wearing infrared goggles or have some form of infrared capability to see in the dark.

  But at that moment as she thought that, she felt a hand grab at the belt on her hip.

  May shouted in panic, twisting away, turning to chop at the invisible attacker with her hand, as hard as she could. In the pitch dark, she heard him shout with anger and heard something thump down to the floor.

  It was her gun! He’d grabbed it from her belt, but she’d managed to knock it out of his hand before he could use it. However, he might have another weapon and he would be ready to attack with it, fast.

  Retreating at speed, backing away, May knew she needed to counteract the advantage he now had.

  She reached for the small flashlight on her belt and took it out, fast. Her hand was shaking so badly it took her two tries to activate the flashlight as she stumbled blindly away.

  It turned on, and the blaze of light felt dazzling.

  She blinked in the gloom, gasping in a breath as she saw the figure looking ahead of her. He was tall, solid, threatening. And the light gleamed off the blade of the knife he was holding. The knife that had come within an inch of slashing into her.

  But the light was his enemy, it had saved her—for now. He recoiled away from it, as if it hurt. Angrily, he ripped off the goggles pulling them down around his neck, and he lunged for her.

  He was frighteningly fast, impossibly strong.

  His knife hand lashed out. May leaped back, desperate, knowing that if that wicked looking blade caught her, it would rip open her skin.

  It didn't catch her, but it was so close that the blade caught the edge of the flashlight in her hand. The blade bit into the rubber casing, and the light was wrenched from May's hand and went clattering down the passage.

  It didn't break, although it dimmed. And now the beam was facing away from them, and they were in semi darkness, with weird, looming shadows around. And he was on the offensive. On the attack. He leaped forward again with a snarl of rage, and May stumbled back. She had nothing to defend herself with, nothing at all. Could she find something? Was there anything that could help at all?

  There was something, down by her feet, near the door where she’d gotten that whispered, lifesaving warning. As he lunged again, she ducked and grabbed it.

  It was a hammer. Maybe he'd been doing repairs and left it there. A hammer wasn't much against an attacker with a knife and a massive reach, but it was something.

  May grabbed the wooden handle, her breath pumping in and out of her chest. This was like a deadly dance as he prepared to strike again with the knife. But she was ready this time, and she raised the hammer, swinging it with all her strength, and she felt it connect with him as she leaped back to avoid the deadly thrust.

  The hammer glanced off his hand, and he hissed in pain.

  She'd gotten to him, but once was not enough. He had too much of an advantage. Height, weight, reach, and weaponry, and he knew this territory. She needed backup, and fast. One thing she could do, was shout. Was there anyone nearby who could help her? Were any of the police here yet? Perhaps she could alert them.

  "We’re here! Inside!" May yelled at the top of her voice and saw him flinch. She guessed that in this dark labyrinth filled with shadows and fear, it had been a long time since he'd heard anyone shout aloud.