Page 45 of Knight

“Feel the sides with your hand. You need to turn left at the next junction,” Knight orders. “Watch your head. The ceiling drops by a foot.”

I press my hand against the side, and crawl forward carefully. My fingers meet empty space, I turn, ducking my head. The top brushes against my hair, and it forces me lower to the ground. My elbows threaten to buckle with every movement. The bandages catch on something sharp, pulling them away from my skin. Fresh pain flares, but there’s no time to stop and adjust them.

I try to pick up speed, but my arms are trembling too much. The combination of the injuries, exhaustion, and terror make every movement a challenge. Sweat drips into my eyes, blurring my vision. And then one elbow gives out, sending me sideways against the tunnel wall.

“Steady.” Knight’s voice is closer than I expected. “Just keep moving. Small movements are better than fast ones.”

His words shouldn’t comfort me. This man was holding me captive no more than a couple of hours ago. Held me at gunpoint, chained me to a radiator, forced me to drink, to eat,stripped away every shred of dignity I have. But right now, his voice feels like an anchor in the chaos. The steady presence behind me is oddly reassuring, even though I know it shouldn’t be.

We reach another junction, and he tells me to go left again. My knees ache from crawling, my shoulders burn from the awkward movements. The space feels even more confined here, the walls pressing in on both sides. Without being able to see, it’s hard to judge distances. It’s like we’ve been crawling through these tunnels for hours.

“How much further?” My voice sounds breathless even to my own ears. The words echo slightly.

“Two more turns. Unless you’d prefer to stop and admire the view?”

Before I can snap back at him, another explosion hits, closer than any of the others. The tunnel wall under my palm seems to flex, metal groaning under the stress.

“Move!”

I scramble forward, ignoring the burning in my wrists, and the way my clothes catch on metal seams. Dust or debris falls through one of the ventilation gaps, and into my hair. My world has narrowed to the darkness ahead, and the sound of Knight moving behind me.

The crawlspace curves right, opening into what feels like a slightly wider section. A hand curls around my ankle stopping my forward motion, just as I place one hand down and find … nothing.

“Don’t move.” The fingers tighten, and tug me back.

“There’s a vertical shaft straight ahead. The ladder is on the far wall. Back up slowly.”

Heart pounding in my ears at how close I came to tumbling over the edge and down a god-knows-how-far drop, I shufflebackward. Cool air rising from the depths raises goosebumps on my sweat-dampened skin.

When Knight releases his grip on my ankle, I press myself against the side of the tunnel, making room as Knight crawls up beside me. The space is so tight, our shoulders touch, and his presence fills the small space, radiating heat and barely contained tension.

“Turn around.” His voice is low and close to my ear. “Face the ladder. I’ll go first and guide you down.”

I should argue. Should demand to know where we’re going. I should question why I’m trusting him at all. But another explosion rocks the building, sending more debris through the ventilation gaps, and all of those thoughts evaporate.

Knight maneuvers past me, reaching for the ladder. For a moment his face is inches from mine, his eyes meeting mine under the glow of his watch. Something about his expression makes the breath stall in my throat. His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing, and then he turns away, and reaches for the ladder. Metal rungs creak under his weight.

“Come on. Slowly. Face the wall, and feel for the first rung with your foot. Go slow. The ladder is old.”

My hands are shaking as I grip the edge of the shaft. Following his instructions, I turn and ease backward until my foot finds the ladder. I can’t stop shaking, my teeth chattering as I move down a rung, then another, until I can curl my fingers around one. It’s rough with age and lack of use.

“Good, that’s it. Keep coming. I’ll tell you when you’re near the bottom.”

We descend in silence, the shaft growing impossibly darker the deeper we go. The oppressive heat from above fades, replaced by cool air, making me shiver even more. The darkness seems to amplify every sound—the creak of metal, our careful breathing, the distant rumble of explosions above.

And then finally,finallyKnight’s voice echoes up. “Almost there. Three more rungs.”

My feet find solid ground. I can sense Knight beside me, both of us breathing hard from the descent. The space here feels different. Larger, but somehow more intimate.

“What now?” I hate how shaky I sound.

“Now we rest for a couple of minutes, then we move to part two of the ventilation system tour you never knew you wanted.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Knight

The maintenance tunnelsbranch off in three different directions. My watch shows approximately three minutes left until Victor’s second countdown hits zero. Given how the first one ended, standing here debating options seems like a stellar way to end up dead.

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