Evelyn Ford's expression didn't change as she methodically packed the bag and strapped it to her back. She only followed Quincy out of the laboratory after he had urged her for a third time.
"This way," Quincy said, holding a torch in one hand and clutching the curtain wrapped around his body with the other. "There's a security door here. We can go down from here." Evelyn didn't hesitate, following him through the door.
The only sounds in the stairwell were their footsteps and the crunch of poison moths underfoot. Though Quincy was a young man, prolonged starvation had left him in poor physical condition. He gasped for breath every few steps.
