Page 96 of Reset

Ducking under a low-ceilinged archway, Ryan paused. There were voices. Murmurs in the distance. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, the sound of running feet.

The echo made it hard to tell which direction the sound came from, or even which passageway. All he could do was look for the red mark he’d been following and carry on, hoping it’d take him to someone who could help.

He jogged on for a few minutes more, feeling hopeful as the voices got louder. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, they were speaking English. Relief surged through him, knowing that he wouldn’t have to try to explain what he needed in French.

The passage widened into a chamber with several offshoots. One wall had been painstakingly carved into a 3D relief, depicting ocean waves. The graffiti artists had treated the carving with respect, and there were no tags to mar it. In the top right-hand corner of the carved mural were the words, life is a wave, surf the wave.

Or get drowned…

He was so busy staring at the mural that he wasn’t paying attention to the candle. Until it flickered and died. Ryan didn’t move as the reality of his situation sank in. He had one candle left. And now, he had no way to light it.

Bloody, stupid, idiot…

The running feet were closer now.

“Help,” Ryan shouted. “I’m in the mural room, and my light has gone out. Are you there? Can you help?”

There was a pause before a very familiar voice called, “Ryan?”

Lake Benson?

Damn.

He was hallucinating.

Too long underground, without food or proper rest. Too much stress and disorientation. Of course, he was hallucinating. He should have expected this and prepared himself.

“Ryan?” the voice he’d imagined called again. It sounded so like Lake that it could only have come from his head.

Because why would Lake be in the Paris catacombs? Even if his team did know where he’d been taken, the chances of them finding him were about a billion to one. There were over two hundred miles of tunnels under Paris. Probably more. Most of them hadn’t even been mapped. So the odds of Lake picking the one Ryan was in were pretty damn low.

Sarah…

She was relying on him, and he’d screwed up. How could he follow the red graffiti when he couldn’t see a thing? He was stuck. In the dark. Directionless and helpless. And he was imagining a savior in the form of the company founder. All the while, the reality was that Sarah was back with the cave-in and suffering without him.

Unless…he’d imagined everything.

Suddenly, he wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t.

Sinking to his knees, Ryan gasped for air, even though there was plenty around him. Was this all a hallucination? Had he made everything up? Was he still drugged and trapped in the room where they’d left him?

Sarah had to be real, right?

She felt real.

She felt like she was...his.

A light hit his face, blinding him, and he held up a hand to shade his eyes.

“Ryan!” He felt arms around him and found himself looking into Megan’s grinning face. “Are you okay?”

His heart sank.

He was definitely hallucinating because Megan didn’t do affection.

“Ryan, are you okay?” That was Dimitri’s voice.

Ryan looked up to find Lake and Dimitri looking down at him.