15. Elena #2
These tunnels run under all of Petrova with multiple ways of escape. As it is, Wendell could already be well out of downtown, and who knows where with Hannah.
The air is cold enough to bite. It creeps under my jacket, settles against my damp skin, and draws a shiver from my spine. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, teeth pressing together to keep them from chattering.
There’s no real light. Even at midday, the tunnel swallows it whole. Small emergency fixtures glow weakly along the wall, pale and sickly, illuminating only short stretches before surrendering to darkness once again.
I move sideways, one hand stretched out to the wall, fingers tracing brick to keep my balance. One wrong step and I’d slide straight into the water or off the narrow ledge entirely.
Another rumble rolls through the tunnel.
This one is bigger.
The ground shifts beneath my feet. Dust sifts from above. The water sloshes violently, slapping against stone, spraying onto the stone path, making every step even more treacherous. I press my palm flat to the wall, heart stuttering as the vibration hums through my bones.
When it finally stills, I push off the brick and keep moving. Slow. Careful. Slippery. Every step threatens to betray me.
At last, the tunnel opens into a wider junction.
Four paths.
Straight ahead is nothing but darkness, thick and endless. To the right, more of the same. Black, soundless, devouring. To the left there is minimal light. Faint, distant, but real.
I release a long, shaky breath and let my forehead rest against the wall for a heartbeat.
“Hannah,” I whisper into the dark. “Help me out here. Where are you?”
I turn left.
The air grows colder as I creep forward, the walls narrowing again, the light thinning until it’s barely more than a suggestion. My steps are as silent as I can make them, my flats sliding against damp stone.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps.
Slow. Careful. Measured.
I freeze.
My back presses flat against the wall as my heart slams hard enough to hurt. Every breath feels too loud. Too obvious. The sound comes again, closer now. Whoever it is knows this place. Knows how to move without rushing.
Fear coils tight in my chest.
But it doesn’t stop me.
Hannah’s face flashes in my mind—bruised, stubborn, alive. I will not leave her here. Not for anything.
I have no weapon.
Then the truth settles in, solid and steady.
I am the weapon.
Alexei trained me. Trained me with the tools, precision, and patience I’d need if I was ever in trouble. He taught me how to wait. How to strike. How to use space, silence, and timing as force multipliers.
If I do this right…
I lower myself to my stomach, pressing my body close to the stone. My palm flattens against the wall as I begin to move, inch by inch, toward the sound.
Toward the footsteps.
Toward whatever stands between me and my best friend.
I move one step at a time, matching the rhythm of the footsteps until they’re right on top of me.
I stop.
The tunnel breathes around us, the water plopping softly, pipes ticking as they cool. I slow my own breathing until it barely exists. My hands curl into fists at my sides, knuckles tight, skin slick with damp. I close my eyes.
One.
Two.
Three.
I turn and throw myself forward.
My fist cuts through the dark—fast, sharp, exactly the way Alexei drilled into me, but it never lands. A hand clamps around my wrist mid-strike, crushing and unyielding, and I’m shoved back against the wall. Brick bites through my jacket. Air punches from my lungs.
I jab my free hand into his chest. Solid. Immovable. Muscle carved over bone, warm despite the cold.
The fight drains out of me in a single, dizzying rush.
Even without light, without sight, I know that body.
The shape of him presses memory into muscle. The way his weight shields instead of pins. The way space disappears when he’s close.
“Alexei?”
His name fractures on my tongue. Saying it feels dangerous, like if I’m wrong, whatever’s holding me together will splinter.
He exhales, shaky, human. Real. His grip loosens just enough to tell me this isn’t a ghost or a trick or my mind breaking under pressure.
My knees nearly buckle. I fold into him before fear can catch up, arms locking tight, because letting go—even for a breath—feels impossible.
“Wasn’t your best attempt at a punch,” he murmurs.
A sob tears free. My arms lock around his neck. He crushes me back, solid and real and here, one hand pressing between my shoulders like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
When I pull back, my hands cup his face, memorizing the angles I can’t see but know as though they were my own. For one impossible moment, the world disappeared. There was only Alexei’s heartbeat beneath my cheek and the quiet certainty that, somehow, we'd found each other again.
“How are you here?” I whisper. “How did you know…”
“That you’d do something incredibly stupid and put yourself in danger?”
I groan softly. His fingers sweep my hair back, tucking damp strands behind my ears.
“I know you, Elena,” he answers quietly. “After our call, I knew you’d step out.”
My hands slide down to his chest. “Know-it-all.”
A breathy sound leaves him. “When it comes to you? Yes.” His voice is rough, worn thin. “I was already on my way. Max alerted me of what happened and?—”
“You knew I’d find a way into the tunnels,” I finish.
“As I said,” he murmurs, “I know you.”
He pulls back, and I hate the space instantly.
“We’re discussing this later,” he adds, thumb brushing my cheek one last time. “Leaving your security behind?” He pauses, and if I didn’t know any better, I swear, despite his anger, he is trying to suppress a grin. “But right now, we need to get out of here.”
“Not without Hannah.”
The words scrape from my throat, raw and immediate. Saying her name feels like pressing on a bruise I’ve been pretending isn’t there.
Alexei’s face tightens, not surprise, not anger. Something worse. The look of a man already running scenarios he doesn’t like the endings to.
“We’ll find her,” he affirms, but there’s strain beneath it. A promise stretched painfully thin.
My chest aches. I nod because if I argue, I’ll unravel, and I need to stay intact long enough to survive this.
My words die when the tunnel groans.
This rumble is different, deeper, angrier. The ground bucks beneath our feet. The sound isn’t just loud, it’s familiar. Too familiar. The walls vibrate, shedding dust. The water surges, slamming against stone like something alive.
My body reacts before my mind does. Muscles seize. Breath locks. The echo drags me backward through time, stone giving way, alarms screaming, running with nowhere safe to land.
I shake, hard enough that Alexei notices. He turns, pressing me back against the wall, palms braced on either side of my head. His body shields mine as the world tilts. Brick digs into my spine. His thighs lock mine in place.
“Hold on, Elena.”
The shaking eases.
For one heartbeat, there’s silence.
Then—
A low groan rolls through the tunnel, deep and unnatural, as if the earth itself has drawn a breath.
The sound tears through me, sharp and final. My body remembers before my mind does, palace walls collapsing, alarms screaming, running with nowhere safe to land. I shudder.
“What was that?”
I already know. My body does, at least. It knows the sound of things that don’t stop once they begin to fall.