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I fall behind her, hyperaware of every sound and shadow. The Rufi unit takes up the rear. Its sensors sweep back and forth, searching for threats both seen and unseen while its lamp illuminates the way ahead.
We move in a tense silence, broken only by the occasional whimper from the children or a pained groan from Daniel. Jon’s breathing is labored. The air grows thicker with each step, heavy with moisture and the crushing weight of earth above us.
A skittering sound from the darkness ahead freezes us in our tracks. Rats? Or something worse? The children press closer to Ember, their fear palpable. I tighten my grip on my rifle, every nerve on high alert.
My mind races, cataloging our situation. Two combat-effective adults. One severely injured prep school kid. Three terrified kids. And Ember—a wildcard, but possibly our best asset right now. Our resources are limited, and our options are few, but giving up isn’t one of them.
The tunnel stretches endlessly before us, each turn and twist potentially leading to salvation or doom. The only certainty is the need to keep moving and stay ahead of the dangers behind and ahead.
Weapons check: My primary has half a mag left. My sidearm is full. I have two flashbangs and one smoke grenade. It’s not great, but it’ll have to do.
A scuffling sound ahead brings us to a halt. Ember freezes, eyes wide in the Rufi’s blue glow.
“What is it?” I whisper, scanning the darkness ahead.
She shakes her head, voice barely audible. “Probably rats. But—there used to be other things down here. People, sometimes. Desperate people.”
The implications hang in the air, unspoken. I nod, understanding. “Can you guide us?”
“Yes.”
We press on, every sense straining for danger. The tunnel branches split and rejoin. Without Ember, we’d be hopelessly lost in minutes.
Time loses meaning in the darkness. It could be minutes or hours before Ember calls another halt.
“There’s a junction ahead.” Her voice is strained. “Left leads deeper into the complex. Right should take us toward the river.”
“Should?” Jon asks, skepticism evident even through his exhaustion.
Ember’s shoulders slump. “It’s been years. Things might have changed. Collapses blocking our way. I can’t be certain.”
I weigh our options. Deeper into the complex means potential safety but also the risk of getting cornered. The river offers a chance at extraction but exposes us to potential pursuit.
“We head for the river,” I decide. “Delta-One will be looking for us there.”
We turn right at the junction. The tunnel narrows, forcing us into a single file. The air grows cooler, hints of a breeze suggesting we’re nearing the outside.
Suddenly, Ember stumbles. I reach out, steadying her. Her skin is clammy under my hand, trembling evident even through her clothes.
“You okay?” I ask, concern overriding protocol.
She nods, but her eyes are distant, haunted. “Just—memories. This place …”
I squeeze her shoulder gently. “Hey. Look at me. You’re getting us out of here. You’re saving lives.”
Something shifts in her gaze—a flicker of strength, of determination. She straightens, squaring her shoulders. “You’re right. Let’s keep moving.”
We push on. The tunnel begins to slope upward, the air growing fresher with each step. Hope kindles in my chest.
Then, disaster.
A rumble shakes the tunnel, raining dust and small debris down. The children scream, and Daniel moans in pain.
“Cave in!” Jon shouts. “Move, move, move!”
We sprint forward, adrenaline overriding exhaustion. The rumbling intensifies, the very earth seeming to groan around us.
Light appears ahead—a circular opening, starlight visible beyond. Freedom. Safety. Just a few more yards…