The tunnel’s air turned colder the farther they went. The roar of the rain outside faded, replaced by the hum of underground generators and the pounding of their footsteps. Natalie’s lungs burned. Ethan’s weight felt heavier now, his breathing shallow against her shoulder. She could hear Adrian stumbling behind her, his boots scraping against the concrete, the wet slap of blood against the floor marking every step.
“Adrian,” she hissed, “you’re losing too much blood!”
He didn’t answer. His gun hung loosely in one hand, his other pressed against his ribs. She glanced back, catching the flicker of pain that crossed his face, but also the stubbornness—the same look that had both infuriated and saved her in equal measure.
“Just a little farther,” he muttered, voice low and strained. “We can
