Flash

intersection.
    She took one step and heard the faint but unmistakable sound of her own shoe sliding on concrete.
    She froze. When she could breathe again she bent down, quickly untied her oxfords, and stepped out of them. She winced when she put her stocking-clad feet on the glacier-cold concrete.
    She inched slowly forward. Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. It was still densely shadowed here in the last aisle. But when she ran out of wall at the intersection, she looked down a darkened corridor and saw the green glow of the exit light above the stairwell.
    She realized that she could use the exit lamp to guide her back to the elevators. But maybe that was exactly what the stalker expected her to do.
    She crossed the intersection and slipped cautiously into another black aisle. At least she was no longer standing next to locker four-ninety.
    The thought that she was not quite so much of a sitting duck as she had been a few seconds ago brought a tiny shot of hope. She seized on it as she worked her way along the gloom-filled corridor.
    She heard another scraping sound and realized that the stalker was on the move. He was not waiting for her at the elevator. She wondered how he was navigating his way along the cave-dark paths.
    The answer came a moment later when she crossed another intersection and glimpsed a narrowly focused beam of light. It vanished almost at once, but she knew now that whoever he was, the stalker had come here better prepared than she had. He had thought to bring a pencil-thin flashlight
    She tried frantically to think of a strategy. If she could work her way back to the elevator, she could go down the stairs. But if she turned down the wrong corridor enroute, she would blunder into the stalker.
    From out of nowhere she recalled something Silas had said about guns. She did not have access to a grenade launcher or a bazooka, but she had left a very large, extremely heavy platform truck in a nearby aisle. It would have to do.
    If she could find it.
    She closed her eyes. For some reason it was easier to construct a mental map of the locker complex with her eyes shut. She was certain that she had made only one turn after pushing the platform truck into a side aisle.
    Almost certain.
    A soft thud made her snap open her eyes. She was out of time. The stalker was getting closer. If she was going to act, she had to do it now.
    Slowly, painstakingly, she made her way back to the intersection she had just crossed. When she reached it, she turned and went slowly along another corridor. If she was right, she was only one aisle over from four-ninety. This was where she had left the platform truck.
    She must be careful not to stumble into it.
    She went down on her hands and knees and began to crawl along the cold concrete.
    Her fingers connected with one of the casters on the platform truck a few seconds later. She stopped and took a deep breath. She could not see the outline of the truck, but she found the steel handle bar by touch.
    Slowly she got to her feet and gripped the bar.
    She did not have long to wait.
    The scraping sound drew closer. Olivia held her breath. She was very cold, but rivulets of perspiration dampened her blouse.
    The thin beam of the stalker's flashlight crossed the entrance to the aisle in which she stood poised with the platform truck.
    A shadowy figure stepped into the intersection. It swung the flashlight beam down the opposite aisle.
    It was now or never. The beam would shine into her aisle next.
    With every ounce of strength she possessed, Olivia shoved the platform into motion. She pushed it as fast as possible toward the figure in the intersection.
    The creaking and groaning of the heavy truck caused the stalker to whirl around. The narrow beam of the flashlight struck the truck, lifted. It hit Olivia squarely in the eyes, blinding her.
    She kept moving, shoving the platform truck in front of her. All she had to do was keep it going forward in a relatively straight line, she thought. She couldn't miss.
    There was a choked, angry cry. The stalker staggered back, frantically trying to get out of the path of the heavy cart. He succeeded only partially.
    The wheeled platform caught the figure on the thigh at the intersection. The jolt of the impact went through Olivia.
    Her victim reeled backward.
    There was a hoarse shout The flashlight flew out of the stalker's hand and rolled on the concrete.
    He was down, but Olivia did not know if he was hurt. She did not know if he