Page 120 of Scarlet Angel

She stumbles.

I hold her to me, still. Gathering my wits.

It’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face.

The ground trembles with a muted boom.

“What’s happening?” Scarlet asks.

She’s winded. I hear it in her gasp and feel it in the expansion of her rib cage.

I fumble with my mobile. The screen light allows me to see my hand, Scarlet’s shape, and perspiration along her temple.

For security reasons, the mobile has no apps. But surely there’s a light. Please let there be a light.

I find it. The bright white beam lights the floor and the sides of the tunnel.

“Drop a bag.”

“I can carry it. Let’s go.”

“I’ll get it.”

“No, I can?—”

She tugs on a shoulder strap.

“Scarlet, it’s not the weight. It’s bulky. You can carry the weight, there’s no doubt, but you move faster without the bulk.”

Stubborn, she grips the strap of my backpack. I grab the handles of the tote she’s holding, ignoring her efforts.

“Hold the mobile. Light the way.”

With both my hands full of tote straps, I can’t very well hold a mobile. She grabs the device and holds it in front. At first, her steps follow a quick pace. I match her, sticking close.

A minute passes, and she shifts into a steady jog.

“Will the fire come through the tunnel?”

“Shouldn’t. There’s nothing for it to catch. I’m more worried about it stealing our oxygen.”

We’re getting further away from what I presume is the garage and what must have been a massive explosion.

Is this Nooyi? Was his visit to scope the place out and figure out if my safe house was located somewhere other than the main house? Or did they bomb every building on the property?

The heat increases.

My eyes are watering. The smoke must be getting thick.

A cloudy haze wafts through the cylindrical white light.

“How much further?”

I don’t have the answer. I should’ve marked the tunnel with distance measurements.

“If you need to slow?—”

“One foot in front of the other,” she says.

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