61: Deva
Deva
Moving helped. After only a few steps, Deva no longer needed Wrench’s support. After a minute, she jogged beside him.
Others joined them, faces she didn’t recognise. Some wore ear-pieces, talked to colleagues. Others muttered to themselves. They hurried along a dim passage, walls curving to become the ceiling, echoes all around.
Then the place shook.
Deva bumped against Wrench, and he slammed a hand into the wall to keep his balance. All the talking stopped.
“Quake?” she asked.
But these people were used to the tremors. If this was a quake, they wouldn’t jerk their heads around like that. They wouldn’t have fear in their eyes.
“They’ve found us,” she said, more a whisper than anything else.
There was a moment of stillness, then everyone ran.
“Come on!” Wrench held a
