Page 89 of Reset

“Really hoping we’ll be out of here before the need for water becomes an issue.” Ryan squeezed her hand. “The idiots said it was about a six-hour walk to topside.”

“We can do six hours,” she said firmly.

“Yeah, we can.” He smiled over at her, but her focus was on the tunnel ahead of them.

The brick part of the catacombs seemed to have been built a whole lot more recently than the space they’d first started in, and the wider tunnels gave him hope that they were nearing an exit.

They walked in silence for a while. Sarah was still limping, and his huge shoes couldn’t have been comfortable, but she didn’t complain. He’d noticed that she rarely complained about anything, preferring to accept her situation and try to make the best of it. It was pretty amazing to watch, especially as she had to have been beyond exhausted and completely strung out from the emotional toll of their abduction. Really, it was a miracle she was still standing.

Ryan eyed the ceiling. There seemed to be more cracks than usual, and it was raining dust down on them. Not that you’d notice the extra dirt amongst the crud they were already sporting. They were a pair: torn up, battered, hungry, and exhausted with no clue as to whether they were heading in the right direction or not. On top of all that, the pains in his stomach were a constant companion now. His poor neglected belly had even given up on rumbling. It was as though it’d lost all hope of ever seeing food again.

“Careful.” He tugged Sarah aside as a few small chips fell from above.

“Is it just me,” she said, “or is this tunnel looking a little abandoned?”

“Nope, it isn’t just you.” The graffiti was sparse, and there was more rubble and dust than before—most of it undisturbed. If this led to an exit, then it was one that hadn’t been used for some time. “Looks like we picked the wrong shade of red.”

“I was sure it was the right red,” she huffed as they turned back to try again.

“Told you, Stats, you might know your colors, but those little shits sure as hell didn’t.”

“Stop calling them that. They were probably desperate and had no choice but to steal our stuff.”

Yep, she needed a keeper. With a soft heart like that, the world would walk right over her. “You’ve been desperate—did you steal somebody’s iPad to get you out of it?”

“No. But I stole toilet paper from the public bathrooms because I couldn’t afford to buy it. And I’d go to church on Sundays, purely because they had a shared meal after the service. You were supposed to bring something for it, but I never could. I’d offer to help clean up because when no one was looking, I could clear leftovers into my bag to eat at home later. If I’d had the courage, I might have stolen from people. You never know…”

No, he knew. She’d never have gone that far. Ryan’s chest tightened at the thought of her sneaking food and feeling shame because of it. It was all kinds of wrong.

“Stats…” Stopping right there, he pulled her into a hug. And he didn’t even pretend she was the one who needed the comfort.

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “I’m fine now.”

As he held her close, feeling her soft body against his, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m fighting the urge to go on a toilet paper spending spree as soon as we’re out of here. I suddenly have the need to fill your house with it, so you’ll never have to worry about it again.”

“I think that’s probably the nicest thing anybody ever said to me.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Please don’t do it, though.”

Ryan was laughing when his hand spasmed and he dropped the candle. “Damn it,” he spat as it fell to the floor and the flame snuffed out, plunging them into darkness. “Sarah, I’m sorry. Gimme a sec, and I’ll light another one.”

“It’s okay, I—”

Whatever she was about to say ended when the ceiling started to crumble. A piece of brick skimmed the side of his head, hitting his shoulder.

“Ryan!” Sarah screamed at the same time, he yelled, “Run.”

But she didn’t run.

He felt her palms hit the middle of his chest and she pushed hard. Catching him off guard, she sent him sprawling back down the tunnel, away from the falling bricks.

“No!” Ryan shouted, scrambling to his feet.

A loud rumble shook the tunnel, and the roof over their heads collapsed.

“Sarah!” he bellowed before dust and grit made him gag and cough.

He pulled his T-shirt up over his nose and mouth as he tried to make sense of what’d just happened. Light. He needed light. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a candle. Going by feel, he retrieved the unused match from the sealed space in his Swiss Army knife. It took a couple of tries to strike it before he quickly lit the candle.

After what felt like hours, Ryan faced the damage. Blinking back the dust cloud that still lingered around him. Feeling the grit scrape his eyes. The same way it’d scratched at his lungs. Fighting panic, he managed to see through the dust.