Chapter 12
Crawling Through The Dark Earth
“Go first, Clara,” I gasped, holding the flashlight steady as she squeezed her small frame into the narrow coal chute.
She squirmed through the damp dirt, her silk wedding dress tearing against sharp rocks as she pulled herself upward toward the surface.
I watched her legs disappear into the dark tunnel before I squeezed my own shoulders into the tight, claustrophobic space.
The smell of fresh, damp outdoor dirt replaced the stale chemical air of the vault, giving me a sudden burst of adrenaline.
I clawed at the wet soil, pushing myself forward inch by inch through the dark, suffocating tunnel beneath the gardens.
Above us, the faint sound of rain falling on autumn leaves grew louder, promising life and freedom just a few feet away.
May you like
Clara’s hand reached down into the hole, grabbing my wrist and pulling with all her strength as I broke through the surface.
We collapsed onto the wet grass of the greenhouse garden, gasping for fresh air as cold rain soaked our torn clothes.
