“Forget the stairwell.” I grunted, gritting my teeth as I pried the doors back. They resisted, stubborn with rust and disuse. “The Order probably has them all guarded. Or are using them right now. I don’t want to run into any more soldiers on the stairs, so we’re going the unconventional route.” She watched as I wedged my shoulder between the crack and looked back at her. “You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”

A door slammed somewhere in the maze of corridors, and my blood froze. Claustrophobic or not, we were out of time. With a growl, I shoved the doors as hard as I could, ramming them with my shoulder. They gave a last rusty groan and reluctantly slid back a few inches. A gust of hot, stale air billowed out of the opening, and a long, pitch-black tube plunged down into darkness.

I eyed the distance from the edge to the maintenance ladder on the wall, then looked back at Ava. “After you.”

Flashlight beams scuttled along the wall, and the sound of booted feet echoed through the hallways. Without hesitation, Ava leaped into the shaft and grabbed the ladder’s rungs with easy grace, then started down the tube. I followed, gritting my teeth as the ladder trembled under my weight. If it snapped, we were in trouble; a fall here would kill us as surely as if the soldiers stuck their guns through the opening and filled the shaft with lead.

Let’s hope my luck holds.

Together, we descended into the pitch blackness.

Ember

Ember

A hail of bullets erupted behind us as we turned another corner, and Faith screamed.

“Garret!” I panted, as flashlight beams scuttled over the walls ahead of us, and the soldier stopped abruptly in the center of the corridor. I stopped behind him, shivering as harsh voices drew closer from different directions. “They’ve surrounded the floor,” I whispered, feeling my heart pound in my ears. “We’re trapped.”

Garret scanned the hall, his gaze falling on a pair of open doors at the end of the corridor. “This way,” he ordered, and we sprinted through the doors into a large conference-type room. It was only half-finished; scaffolding stood everywhere, and large iron beams marched down the center of an aisle, creating a tangled web of iron and steel. It was very dark in here, and the air was thick with the smell of dust and mold.

Garret pulled us behind a cage of scaffolding and iron beams. “Faith,” he said softly, bringing the girl’s attention to him. “Look at me.” Faith’s eyes were huge and liquid, and tear tracks stained her dusty cheeks as she glanced up. “Listen to me. I want you to climb to the top of the scaffolding tower, lie flat and don’t move. Don’t look up or make a sound, no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”