Adventure of Dallas Fontaine 2

The monument hums like a buried transformer, and the passage answers with a slow red pulse. Dallas stands between the control panel and the exit while Murderbone braces at his side. The Hooded Man keeps to the threshold, his wounded shoulder leaking dark through the cloak.

Dallas works the stone panel. The lights in the tunnel shift, and a hidden latch clicks somewhere above. Professor Dayton flinches behind the support pillar, staring at the panel like it might bite.

The tunnel lights flare, then dim in a pattern that marks a second path below the floor. Murderbone growls at the seam in the stone, where cold air leaks up from a hidden service route. Dallas sees it now, the monument is not a dead end, it is a switchboard, and the trail to Bishop runs through whatever is opening under their feet.

Dallas lunges hard, but the Hooded Man twists off the wall before the pin lands. His boot skids on stone, and the man’s good hand flashes up under Dallas’s arm, breaking the hold.

They slam shoulder to shoulder instead of wall to wall. The hood stays on, but it tears halfway loose, exposing a stamped service plate hanging at the man’s chest.

Murderbone snaps at the gap, forcing the Hooded Man to retreat one step toward the threshold. The red pulse stutters, and the floor seam yawns wider.

Dallas catches the edge of the hood in his fist, but only drags it crooked, revealing a rain-slick cheek and a hard white scar before the cloth rips free again.

He is tied to the route, not just the hill.

Dallas drives him back into the stone wall and pins him there. The hood comes away in Dallas’s fist, and the stamped service plate jerks against the man’s chest as the red pulse flickers overhead.

The cloth tears free. Rain-slick hair, the white scar, and a strained, hard-eyed face all snap into view at once, while the hidden relay below the floor clicks faster in the dark.

Murderbone plants himself between Dallas and the opening seam, teeth bared toward the passage beyond. The hooded man turns his shoulder and tries to twist free, but Dallas keeps him flat against the stone.

Behind them, the floor seam widens another finger-width. The red pulse stutters, and a cold draft breathes up from the hidden route as the monument gives one sharp mechanical click.