Page 46 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Ken," Haruki said, "do not send anyone to investigate."

"That wasn't my plan."

"Hold the checkpoints. Nobody moves alone."

"Understood."

The radio went silent. Dr Kameda lowered the journal cover without closing it fully.

"We should leave."

Minamoto did not argue. That frightened Haruki more than anything else had.

They began packing only what could be secured quickly — cameras, notes, tools. The journal remained on the table beneath a temporary protective cover.

Haruki walked towards the breach. He listened. At first there was nothing. Only the faint electrical hum of the work lights, the soft movement of equipment behind him, his own breathing.

Then—

A scrape.

Far down the service tunnel.

Metal against stone.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Everyone heard it. Professor Takeda froze. The sound stopped.

Haruki reached for the radio.

Before he could press the button, something knocked once from inside the tunnel wall. Not ahead of them. Not behind them. Beside them.

Three measured taps. A pause. Then three more.

Haruki stared at the stone. No one spoke. Somewhere beyond it, in a passage that did not exist on any modern plan, something began walking towards them.

Chapter Five

The Tunnel Massacre

The first scream never came. Haruki heard the scrape of metal against stone, the faint shift of air through the breach and the wet impact of something striking the floor. Then one of the engineers disappeared. He had been standing less than two metres from the entrance — one moment there, half-turned towards the sound in the tunnel, and the next his body folded backwards into the darkness. No warning, no cry, only a brief glimpse of black fabric and a hand clamped across his mouth.

Haruki moved before anyone else understood what had happened.

"Lights off."

He struck the nearest portable lamp with his forearm. The chamber plunged into darkness. Someone gasped. A camera case hit the floor. Haruki seized Professor Takeda by the shoulder and dragged her down behind the central table as something passed through the space where her head had been. Metal rang against stone — not a firearm. A blade.

"Stay low," he said.

The words had barely left his mouth when the emergency lights in the service tunnel died. That was not a power failure. Someone had cut them.

Haruki drew the compact pistol concealed beneath his coat, the movement instinctive, practised and uselessly loud in the silence. He could hear breathing around him — Takeda's, fast and shallow; Dr Kameda somewhere near the table; Endo whispering a prayer. Professor Minamoto did not make a sound.

Beyond the breach, footsteps approached. Not hurried. Not cautious. Measured. They knew exactly where everyone was.