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Heat and light seared the air, temporarily blinding them.
They stumbled back as a group, cursing and muttering and coughing as dust choked the area. Debris showered down around them, bits of rock rolling down the bulwark of shadow that had belled above them like an umbrella.
Shadow—Darien’s magic was visible again.
Roman lurched toward the tunnel—toward the rubble blocking them from getting through. “No,” he gritted out. “No.”
That was their only way out.
Unless they could find another exit, they were trapped.
117
The Tar Pits
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
Travis and the others were lost.
He couldn’t reach Darien or Max. He’d tried several times, with both watch and cell phone, but to no avail. There was no service in these tunnels, no frequency on his watch.
And there was no way of navigating, either, the screen Aspen had pulled up on her tablet yielding nothing. These tunnels were supposed to lead them to Darien and the others, but Travis was certain they were going around in circles. When Aspen cursed under her breath, the soft glow of the screen showing the frustration on her face, Travis knew he was right. This was no use.
Another ten minutes must’ve passed when a burst of static came through Travis’s watch.
“Travis?” Darien’s voice cut through the speakers, broken up in places by bad reception. “Travis?”
Finally.
Travis held the device up to his mouth. “I’m here,” he said, speaking loud and clear. “What’s going on?”
“Where—y—”
“We’re in the tunnels—” Another burst of static interrupted him. He could feel the others watching him, listening. “Darien?” He waited, but no reply came through. “Darien, can you hear me?” Silence. “We are in the tunnels—”
“Get the f— out—” Darien was suddenly shouting. “Well is— the— explode!”
Travis’s face leeched of blood. He whirled to face the others, who were gaping at him in silence.
The next words Darien uttered were staticky screams, as if he were praying Travis would hear. “GET OUT OF THE TUNNELS—NOW!”
After that, there was nothing but static.
And Travis realized, since the minute they’d walked in here, that something about these tunnels was off.
Long ago, they had been sealed with magic to trap the demon populations down here.
And there were no demons, as if they had all fled from a far worse predator.
A bomb.
Travis’s command was a fierce whisper. “Run.”
“You trying to choke me out, girl?” Malakai shouted over the rumbling bass of the motorcycle as they raced through Yveswich. Dawn was coming, washing the streets with the silvery light of a crisp early morning. Wind tore at her eyes and hair, their surroundings passing by in blurs.
Loren slackened her arms that were squeezing the Reaper’s neck, her legs doing the same to his waist. “Sorry,” she said. She hadn’t realized how hard she was squeezing. “I’ve never been on one of these before.”
“You don’t say.”
