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“Right behind you.”
“Then touch my leg.”
She curled her fingers around his ankle. Felt his muscles contracting as he moved. She wanted to keep her hand there. Needed the comfort of another person in this black hole.
But she took her hand away and began counting as she crawled. When she hit sixty, she touched him again. Kept moving.
The passageway got tighter and tighter. Her shoulders were scraping the side walls now, and if she lifted her head, it bumped on the ceiling. “How much farther?” she whispered.
“We’re getting close,” he whispered back. “About twenty more feet.”
In the dim light from Jase’s flashlight, she saw him angle his body sideways, so she was facing his chest. Using his legs to propel himself, his head disappeared. Then his chest. His thighs. He moved steadily, apparently not at all concerned with how narrow the passage had become.
Finally, with a grunt, he disappeared from view.
