The darkness swallowed us whole as Lyra and I stumbled through the narrow escape tunnel, my arms aching from clutching Rhys to my chest. I held Harrison's phone aloft, its flashlight feature offering our only guidance through this underground nightmare. The beam illuminated just a few feet ahead, catching dust motes and the occasional spiderweb in its unforgiving glare.
"How much further?" I whispered, afraid to raise my voice in case sound carried back through the tunnel.
Lyra shook her head, her face ghostly in the phone light. "Harrison said to just keep going straight. It has to end somewhere."
My newborn son whimpered softly against my chest, and I pressed my lips to his downy head. "Shh, baby boy," I murmured. "Mommy's got you."
