Page 35 of Rescuing Ember

“Come on, come on,” she mutters, her voice tight with frustration.

The screech of metal on metal sets my teeth on edge as she struggles with something I can’t yet see. Sweat beads on her forehead, mixing with dirt and what might be blood.

For one heart-stopping moment, nothing happens. The gunfire intensifies. One of the children whimpers. Jon grunts under Daniel’s weight.

I’m about to suggest we find another way when Ember lets out a triumphant cry. There’s a grinding noise, and suddenly, a section of the floor moves to the side.

A bullet ricochets dangerously close, showering us with sparks. One of the girls screams, the sound piercing through the din of battle.

Then, with a final shriek of protesting metal, the hatch gives way.

TWELVE

Blaze

Stale air rushes out,carrying the musty scent of long-forgotten spaces. It’s a smell that speaks of darkness, secrets, and escape.

“Go, go, go!” I roar, my voice hoarse from shouting. The Rufi and I lay down suppressing fire, creating a wall of lead between our group and the encroaching tangos.

We pile in, the darkness swallowing us whole like some great beast. The sudden absence of light is disorienting, amplifying every other sense. The sounds of battle fade, replaced by ragged breathing and soft whimpers. I’m the last one through, muscles straining as I pull the hatch closed behind me. The clang reverberates through the tunnel, final and ominous.

With the hatch shut, we’re plunged into darkness. For a moment, there’s nothing but ragged breathing and the rapid thudding of our hearts. The air is thick, stagnant, pressing against us like a living thing.

Then, with a soft whir, the Rufi unit comes to life. A pale blue glow emanates from its body, pushing back the darkness. The tunnel takes shape around us in its eerie light, a nightmare made real.

The walls glisten with some unidentifiable slime, the moisture catching the light and creating an illusion of movement in our peripheral vision. The floor beneath our feet is treacherous, a toxic blend of broken concrete and years of accumulated filth.

Each step produces a sickening squelch, amplified in the confined space.

The smell hits us like a physical force—a noxious cocktail of decay, mold, and something far worse. It’s the kind of stench that coats the inside of your nose and mouth, making each breath a struggle against the urge to gag.

In the Rufi’s spectral glow, the toll of our ordeal is etched on every face. Exhaustion lines Jon’s features as he struggles under Daniel’s weight. The children huddle close to Ember, their eyes wide with a terror beyond their years. Ember stands tall, but there’s the slightest tremor in her hands, the way her gaze darts from shadow to shadow.

A skittering sound echoes from somewhere in the darkness ahead. One of the children lets out a choked sob, quickly muffled. The noise seems to hang in the air, a beacon to whatever lurks in the gloom.

Water drips in the distance, a steadyplink-plink-plinkthat makes the silence between each drop even more oppressive. It’s a countdown, to what, I don’t know, but every instinct screams that we need to move and exit this subterranean hell before it swallows us whole.

“Now what?” Jon’s voice is tight with exhaustion. Daniel’s unconscious form slumps against him, a dead weight threatening to drag them both down.

I look at Ember, seeing the weight of memory in her eyes. This place holds ghosts for her; that much is clear, but as she meets my gaze, I see something else—a core of steel that matchesmy own. She’s our best shot at getting out alive, and we both know it.

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “We keep moving. There’s an exit that leads to the river. If we can make it there…”

I nod, decision made. “Lead on.”

We plunge deeper into the tunnel. Rufi’s pale blue light casts grotesque shadows on the walls. The air is thick and oppressive, laden with the stench of decay and something else—something older and more primal.

Every breath feels like a struggle.

The sound of dripping water echoes ominously, a staccato rhythm punctuated by our labored breathing and the squishing beneath our feet on the grime-covered floor. One of the children stumbles, a choked sob escaping her lips. The noise seems to reverberate endlessly, and I tense, half-expecting it to bring our pursuers down on us.

I key my comm, hoping against hope for a signal.“Delta-One, this is Delta-Five. We’re cut off, heading for alternate extraction. Three kids, two adults, plus packages. Do you copy?”

Static crackles in my ear, harsh and grating. Then, faintly, Jenny’s voice breaks through, distorted and fragmented.“Copy… Five. Get… safe. We’ll… tracking.”

The comm goes dead with a final burst of static. The silence that follows is deafening. We’re on our own.

Ember’s voice, low and urgent, pulls me back to the present. “This way. Watch your step—there’s debris everywhere.”

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