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“Jack!” I screamed. “West, go back!”
His grip tightened around me. “I can’t do that.” We flew past the opening Zayn had fired into, and I could sense more hatay coming up from the depths, their cold, numbing energy wrapping around me like icy fingers.
They came behind us, splitting us off from Jack, even as we caught up with Zayn and Wesley. Wesley was breathing hard, and the vague outline I could see of his face showed the terror in his expression. They had paused to wait for us for a brief moment, but when we reached them, they turned and began to run again.
“We need to go back for Jack,” I yelled, hitting West on the shoulder to make him listen to me.
“No!” he growled. “We need to get you out. I am not putting you in more danger.” His breathing was becoming laboured, and I could tell we were slowing slightly. He was exhausted, but it didn’t faze me.
“But Jack—”
“Died for you, just as he has done many times before,” West spat at me.
“No!”
“Stop!” Zayn shouted abruptly, but it was too late. West crashed straight into him, and we lurched forward. There was a cracking sound so loud it felt like an explosion underneath us, and then there was a massive roar as the floor gave way and we plummeted through the darkness in a shower of rubble to new horrors below.
