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Amidst the turmoil, Diane glimpsed the elusive figure that had been stalking her through the dark labyrinth. There was a brief, chilling moment of eye contact, a flash of something otherworldly in their gaze, before it vanished behind the curtain of falling earth.
Crashing to the ground, Diane gasped for air, momentarily stunned by the fall. Her eyes darted frantically as she took in the extent of the collapse. The way behind her was now a jumble of debris, effectively sealing her path of retreat.
Heart racing, she realized she was now cut off from her pursuer but also trapped. The collapsed tunnel loomed behind. She only hoped that she was going the right way, and that she hadn't simply leaped deeper into the network of tunnels. Flickering flashlight still in hand, the oppressive stillness of the underground returned, heavier than before.
Hopelessness swelled inside of her. Diane fought to maintain her composure, focusing on the need to find another way out. Her flashlight flickered weakly, the dim light struggling through the dust that was still settling from the collapse.
Gathering her strength, she pushed herself up. Her body protested with aches and pains from the exertion and the impact of her fall. She knew she had to continue, to navigate through the rubble and find a path to safety before the batteries in her flashlight ran out.
The air was laden with dust and the smell of damp earth, choking her with each breath. She coughed violently, her throat raw and burning.
Her flashlight gave another faltering flicker, casting long, dancing shadows along the tunnel walls. The light was dying, and with it, her hope of finding a way out was dimming. She pressed on, fueled by a growing desperation. A desperation she had to cling onto to survive, otherwise her desire to lay down and let it all be over would take control.
But just as the bleakness of her situation was readying itself to take over, there it was. She let out a short cry as tears streamed down her face. The section of tunnel had collapsed on both ends, and the one now facing her had left a gaping hole in the ceiling. Through it, rain streamed in, each drop like a helping hand.
Diane rushed towards the rubble before her and pulled herself up on the broken rocks. Her hand cut in places on the sharp rocks, but she didn't feel it. She only felt the desperate desire to breathe the night air. Her hands soon moved from rock to wet soil and grass as she finally pulled herself up out of the tunnels.
She stood up in the open moorland, gasping for the fresh night air. The vast expanse of the nocturnal wild landscape stretched around her, leading to the faint, rhythmic sound of the sea in the distance. She couldn't see it, but the sea was a comfort. It crashing waves sounded like the beating of her own heart, a stark reminder that she was alive.
Collapsing onto the cool, damp grass, she tried to gather her strength, her chest heaving with each breath. Relief flooded through her as she lay on her back, the rain pattering against her face. Above, she could see the moon struggling through a blanket of dark clouds. Diane remembered lying on her back as a child doing the same, her father naming the stars for her.
But the cold would not let her lie in that memory for long. Catching her breath, she pulled herself back onto her feet and looked around at the dark moorland. It stretched for miles into a wall of darkness, but off in the distance through the rain, she could see a dim collection of lights. A village. She had to get to it.
Before she could orient herself, a rustling sound nearby snapped her back to a state of alertness. She turned, her blood freezing as a dark figure emerged from the moorland shadows. The silhouette that had haunted her in the depths of the tunnels now stood ominously close in the open air.
"Please..." Diane begged.
The figure's hand moved swiftly, a flash of metal glinting in the moonlight before it struck. Pain exploded in Diane's chest, sharp and overwhelming. She fell back, her hand clutching at the sudden wound, a weak attempt to stem the flow of blood.
Now she lay on her back, wheezing.
The figure loomed over her for a fleeting moment, a dark, menacing presence like a shroud of death, then turned and melded back into the night. Diane lay on the ground, feeling the cold seep into her bones, her strength fading rapidly with each shallow breath.
She looked up at the night sky, as she had done as a child, a few brief stars managing to twinkle through the clouds above her. The distant roar of the sea blended with the whispers of the wind, a soothing yet distant melody. Her eyelids grew heavy, the struggle to keep them open becoming more arduous. Diane's grip on consciousness began to slip. The night sky blurred above her, and the sounds of the natural world around her softened into silence. Slowly, everything faded into darkness, leaving Diane in a state of serene stillness. And then she was gone.
CHAPTER ONE
Finn strolled through the park, his breath visible in the crisp November morning. The rustle of dry leaves underfoot and the distant caw of crows were joined by the low, constant hum of London traffic. The birds sounded almost distraught in response.
"You and me both, guys," Finn said, almost smirking to himself.
Bare branches clawed at the overcast sky, and the chill wind tugged at his coat, sending shivers down his spine. He wasn't used to the British Fall, and to him it resembled winter more than anything. He may have ran from the US as professional and personal life collapsed, but sometimes he yearned for the warmth of home.
Despite the serene beauty of the English park, with its sprawling lawns and ancient trees, Finn felt uneasy. The past few weeks had been a maelstrom of confusing events, each one more unsettling than the last.
After solving three cases with Amelia Winters in the UK, he was still waiting for his court date in the US. It was to decide whether he was culpable for the terrible damage caused to a hotel during a hostage rescue. If things went against him, his suspension from the FBI would be made permanent, and he'd be financially ruined. If they wanted to pin gross negligence on him, he could even see the inside of a prison cell if things went the wrong way.
But Finn's most pressing thoughts had turned to the fact that his ex-fiancee, Demi, had come to the UK and was claiming that their break up had been forced upon her through blackmail. The truth was clear as mud.
He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was orchestrating the chaos in his life, playing a game where he was the unwilling pawn. He was fighting as best he could to keep the paranoia out of his thinking, but it was a battle he was losing.
As he walked, his gaze drifted to a Victorian-style bridge arching gracefully over a small, leaf-strewn stream. There, standing in the middle of the bridge, was Demi, dark hair resting on the shoulders of a long gray coat. Her smile was warm, but her eyes betrayed a weariness that spoke of sleepless nights and troubled thoughts.
Finn felt both excited and crushed at the sight of her. He had been quite willing to spend the rest of his life with her, and, to him at least, it would have been a happy life. The pain of their breakup still lingered, a wound that had never fully healed. For the last few weeks, Demi had been telling him that their breakup was to protect him. That someone had blackmailed her into doing it. But he still didn't know what to believe.
He approached slowly, his steps hesitant, as if he were walking towards a mirage that might vanish at any moment.
Demi's arms opened, inviting him into an embrace. Finn hesitated, then succumbed to the familiarity of her touch. He wrapped his arms around her, the scent of her perfume momentarily transporting him back to happier times. But as he held her, the memories of their separation surfaced, sharp and unbidden. She had told him she had had an affair. That would have been the end of things, but now she was in England saying none of that was true. It was a roller coaster he didn't want to pay for.
