Water trickles from the ceiling and the rock is wet underfoot. The air tastes dank and stale. Habu splutters and Solma hushes him.
The tunnel narrows and, soon, they have to walk single file, the ceiling lowering enough that Solma has to duck her head to avoid cracking it open. As the cave tunnel draws them round a corner, Solma glances back towards the entrance. The seam of light that marks their escape is small now and, as they turn the corner, it disappears completely. Habu whimpers and Solma feels his little fingers tighten around her belt. She curses, holsters her pistol and reaches down to offer him her hand. His fingers are clammy in hers.
Solma’s pulse roars so loudly in her ears, she’s afraid someone will hear it. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, but her heart only hamm
