Evander

Water pours down the walls in steady, frigid streams. My head aches, and the smell of blood hangs thick in the air as I try to open my eyes for the fourth time in the last five minutes.

I think my skull might be cracked. I reach up to rub my throbbing temples but wince when I flex my hands.

My fingers are shattered.

“Syd?” I croak into the darkness.

“I’m still alive,” he replies groggily.

I open my eyes to slits. Faint light fills my vision. It’s enough to cause a searing pain to ripple through my brain. “Where do you think we are?”

“One-hundred-percent underground,” he answers...