The tunnel sloped downward, slick with moss and seawater. Evelyn’s boots splashed through ankle-deep puddles as she ran, the flashlight trembling in her grip. Each breath came sharp and shallow, echoing back at her in the narrow space.

Behind her — distant but closing — came the slap of boots.

Two sets. Maybe three.

Her pulse hammered. Hale’s last words replayed in her head — “Don’t look back.”

She kept moving, ducking under low pipes, rounding corners where the air grew ...