“Being vulnerable,” Mariana said automatically. “Therapist nailed that in one. I have a great need to be capable. So that makes my greatest fear: being helpless, being powerless. Like, you know, now.”
Claire thought about that as she stared into the darkness.
“Yeah, okay, I’m stealing your answer,” Reyva said.
“Me too,” Claire said.
Pivoting slowly, she strained to see any hint of light. Wait, could she see layers of grayness? Maybe to the left and up... Yes, there were shadows several feet above them, a hint of daylight filtering into the darkness. That had to be the way out! Up, toward the first tunnel she’d seen. She opened her mouth to tell the others, then felt a brush of wind ruffle her sleeve.
She swung around and tapped her phone’s screen—
Neither the flashlight nor the screen turned on. Not even the dead-battery icon.
“Reyva? Mariana?” She couldn’t help the terrible note of panic that shook her voice. She tried to breathe calmly, evenly. She’d known the battery was low. It must have finally run out. This shouldn’t be a surprise. Except she’d thought it would last a little longer. It had only been a few minutes since it had beeped.
“You all right?” Reyva asked. Her voice sounded distant, almost underwater.
Another brush of wind, this time from the opposite direction. Pivoting, she strained to see, to hear. She was afraid to speak again. Whoever was there would hear her. He’d find them. She felt her heart beat faster, like a bird’s wings beating against her rib cage.
It’s your imagination, she told herself.There’s no one here.
They would have heard the trapdoor. Or footsteps in the cave. Or seen another light. The killer couldn’t be down here with them—they would have heard him, wouldn’t they?
“Hold your breath,” Claire whispered. She stopped breathing. Beside her, she heard Reyva and Mariana inhale and then not exhale. She listened.
She thought she heard breathing.
Or wind.
Maybe it’s wind.
Please, let it be wind.
She exhaled. “Did you hear that?”
Very, very softly, Reyva said, “We’re not alone.”
Nine
Not alone.
Not alone.
Not alone.
The words ricocheted inside Claire’s brain until they sounded as loud as a howl. She felt a brush of air against her cheek, and she jumped back.
Where? Which way was safe?
If we can’t see him, he can’t see us, she thought.
But he would hear them breathing. She felt as if her heart was thumping loud enough to be heard from the moon. Certainly he’d hear them if they moved. If they didn’t move, though... She again imagined dirt in her throat, rocks in her veins.
The longer they stood in the dark, barely breathing, the more she thought she could see shadows: darker ones overlaying with lighter grays, but only in one direction.
Mariana whispered, “Did you feel that?”
“What?” Reyva asked.
