The tunnel was narrow—stone walls close enough to scrape shoulders, thick with dampness and decay. Aria gritted her teeth as she followed Amara, her hand still clasped in Xander's.
The fire above raged, wood groaning as it collapsed. Smoke seeped down through old vents, chasing them like ghosts through the dark.
"They meant to bury you," Xander whispered. "Alive."
"They've tried before," Amara said, not looking back.
The tunnel curved, sloping downward before twisting toward a rusted ladder. Amara motioned upward. "This leads to the shed near the lake. There's a car stashed in the woods—still works."
Xander climbed first. Aria followed, her arms shaking from exhaustion. But it wasn't until she pushed open the trapdoor that she realized—
They were not alone.
Boots.
Four men.
One turned, shocked. "They're here!"
Xander lunged before the others could react, slamming one to the wall.
Aria didn't think—she moved. Grabbed a rusted shovel and swung.
They ran.
Through trees. Across the frozen marsh. Xander's knuckles bled, Amara limped, and Aria's chest ached from running. But they didn't stop.
When they reached the car, Amara shoved the keys into Aria's hand. "Drive."
The forest swallowed them again as the engine roared to life.
It wasn't until they reached the ridge road, headlights sweeping the silence, that anyone dared speak.
"They were waiting," Xander said. "They knew where we'd come out."
Amara met his gaze. "Because someone told them."
Aria's blood went cold. "You mean… one of us?"
Xander's silence was answer enough.