CHAPTER FORTY TWO
The first thing that Reid felt as he regained consciousness was cold—cold against his face, his hands, his body. Not just cold; he was wet. Sounds floated to him, the sounds of people shouting. Screaming. Splashing.
He opened his eyes and slowly pushed himself from the pavement, keenly aware of the pain in his joints, in every limb. He groaned; everything hurt, starting with a searing pain in his head and seeping downward to his fingers and toes. But he was fortunate. Nothing seemed to be broken.
There was at least two inches of icy cold water in the bottom of the tunnel, eking around the tires of stopped cars. The drone had detonated; at least, there had been an impact. But somehow the tunnel was not destroyed. He remembered the motorcycle jamming up in the narrow cau
