The crawlspace seemed to go on forever. Pipes pressed into my back, and Emma's little elbow kept bumping my ribs as she crawled in front of me.
Grit and dust filled my mouth, making me want to gag. Every breath felt heavy, and the dust scratched at my throat. My ankle throbbed where the chain had cut me raw, but I refused to think about turning back.
Pain was nothing compared to the hope of getting free from that snake's chains.
Then Emma's whisper broke the silence. "Door."
Her hand scraped against something metal. I pushed forward until my fingers touched it, too. It was a slab of iron, hidden in the wall.
The hinges were rusted, stiff like they had not been moved in years. It felt more like a secret door shown in those thriller movies than an ordinary exit.
I jerked my head, scolding myself to not think such idiotic thoughts. This was a real situation, and we were not some undercover agent discovering a dark secret.
