Christopher followed the concrete stairway, leaving the garden behind him. He ignored the coarse grind of the stone door as it slid shut, closing the entrance through which he came. Alone, Christopher felt his way through the darkness running his hands against the smooth surface. At the bottom of a long stairway he came to a clean and dimly lit hallway with stark white and painted cement walls. Chris recalled hearing rumors of such tunnels. Passageways, that ran beneath the city, which were used by the church to safely transport the prophet and his apostles. Chris followed the long hallway. He passed the occasional steel door and tried few handles along the way. All locked. His only choice was to continue forward through the seemingly endless corridor of white. As he walked, Christopher ruminated over his encounter with the adversary. He wondered about Benjamin. Why had he seemed familiar, and why did the adversary want him slain? Was Benjamin linked to the murder of his family? Sam had said that Lucifer employed half-truths. And though Chris believed Sam, he remained unsure. Christopher turned a corner and the hallway came to an abrupt end. There, mounted against the wall, was a service ladder. He gripped the cold iron rungs, placed one hand over the other, and climbed to the surface above. Christopher emerged through a secret opening and found himself atop a round stone platform. He smiled softly as recognition sat in. He had been there before, with Rachel, many times. It was a monument to church leaders of the past. But more compelling, Chris realized that he had arrived at Brigham Young’s grave. Chris stepped off the platform and was greeted by the perplexed faces of two young children. “Just inspecting the tunnel,” Chris said. But the two astounded children gave no reply. They stared at Chris as their mother, who crossed from the gardens beyond, hurried them away. “You shouldn’t talk to strangers,” she told them and Chris couldn’t help but grin at the situation. Here, Chris recognized the graves of Brigham Young, his wife, and his children. Chris smiled as he imagined what fantastical notions filled the children’s minds as they watched a strange man suddenly materialize from the ground below. Christopher noticed then that the sun drew heavy against the western sky. Knowing that time was short he paid his respects to the dead and took his leave. Jogging, Chris went west and made his way along 1st Avenue. He tuned to the spirit entirely, letting it guide and direct his movements. As he passed into downtown Chris neared the Salt Lake Temple and paused. He looked briefly in the reflection pool allowing his heart a small respite with pleasant thoughts of Rachel. Then leaving the temple grounds Chris turned south, still in pursuit of Benjamin, and still letting the spirit guide his way. Chris went no more than a mile when he realized that he was being followed. An unknown pursuer had been trailing him for several blocks. Chris turned to confront the stalker and was surprised when he saw Mace Docket, the female reporter from the train. She had recognized Chris at the accident and had tried to approach him. Here she was now. Unsure of how to react, Christopher did something that even he found unexpected. Christopher turned from Mace Docket and ran. Mace called out to Chris but he was already on the move. With extraordinary speed he raced from the street and made his way to a nearby building. The unfinished structure was draped in plastic and surrounded by a metal fence. From the activity around the building Chris could tell that it was undergoing renovation. Chris leapt the fence, and did not look back. From the rattling of the chain link he could tell that Mace had given chase behind him. He continued to run, entering the construction yard, hoping to lose her in the commotion. Am