Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

The gap between the shower stall and the wall was about two feet wide, with the subfloor cut out. "What are you doing?" Julia asked.
    "Access," Walter said. "For working on the plumbing. Or sneaking out."
    Walter wriggled down into the narrow opening between the floor joists. His feet touched the dirt beneath the house and he turned, looking almost comical, like a Jack-in-the-Box that was too large for its container. "Come on. Or do you want to stay here and wait for them?"
    Julia thought she heard a scrabbling sound at the front door, but she couldn't be sure. "Did you take the ring?"
    "What ring?" His eyes met hers, blazing brown not with anger, but with a strange determination.
    "And the clock. What does '4:06' mean?"
    "Don't talk crazy," he said. "Let's get out of here." He ducked into the opening, contorting his tall frame. His shoulders disappeared, and then his head, and lastly his arms. He called her name from the crawl space, his voice muffled.
    Julia got on her hands and knees, pulling her purse behind her. She looked longingly across the room at the Louisville Slugger beneath her bed. Even if she had the bat, she wouldn't be able to wield it in the cramped crawl space. Snead and the rumored Deke Hartley might be outside, and might be after her for whatever reason, or they might not. Despite Walter's strangeness, she would rather go with him than face Snead and Hartley.
    She peered down into the darkness of the crawl space. This was worse than the cellar of her dreams, bones or no bones. This was surrender without oblivion, this was a willing, conscious decision. This was a leap into an unknown future.
    But then, the future had never been known, and even the past was uncertain.
    Julia dangled her legs into the crawl space, the fabric of her slacks scraping on the rough plywood edge. She lowered herself into the dank air, feeling Walter's hands on her. His touch was cool and moist, but was gone as soon as her feet were planted on the ground three feet beneath the floor. She bent the rest of her body into the crawl space just as a loud knocking came from the front door.
    Walter reached up and tugged the panel back into place, throwing the crawl space into almost complete darkness. The only light leaked from several vent grills set into the walls of the block foundation. Julia's heart thudded in her chest. Voices came from outside the house, a man's which sounded like Snead's giving orders, followed by a woman's.
    Julia couldn't see Walter, but she could sense his body several feet away. "What the hell is this?" she whispered.
    "I should have told you," he said, barely loud enough for Julia to hear.
    Julia grabbed out blindly and caught his shirt. She tugged herself closer to him, scooting along in the moist dirt. "Why the hell is everybody keeping secrets? What do they want?"
    "Everything. But they ain't going to get it." He started toward one of the air circulation vents, his elbows and knees scraping softly on the ground. "Follow me," he whispered.
    The weak daylight from one of the vent grills was momentarily blocked as someone passed by. How many were out there? Were they members of Snead's department? Were they all Creeps?
    As she scrabbled along after Walter, she felt disembodied, outside herself, wondering whether she should scream for help. She bumped her head on a water pipe and the pain drove the nonsense away. The pipe vibrated along the bottom of the floor from the blow, and Walter stopped and shushed in warning. Julia rubbed her head, grateful for the pain. Now she had something to focus on, something that was real. She wrapped her purse strap around her wrist and wriggled onward, her eyes adjusting to the dimness.
    Her hands raked across hard things which she thought were rocks. One of the objects was tilled from its resting place by her fingers. It gleamed pale in the muted light, showing its curved length.
    A BONE. Sweet merciful God, a bone!
    It looked like a small rib, dry and smooth. Julia knocked it away and it clattered against a concrete support pier. She rolled away from the burial ground and pressed her hand against her mouth to muffle a scream. Walter heard the choking sound and turned, crawling to her side.
    She grabbed his hand, thrust it toward the soft dirt where the bones were scattered. They both touched the tiny skull at the same moment.
    Walter's eyes widened. "Hartley," he whispered. "That goddamned scum."
    His body trembled, either from fear or anger. Julia thought of Rick