She shined the light into the tunnel but could see no movement. "We can't just stand here, Michael. We have to get to Ben."
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Let's go, then."
The walls began to close in, threatening to smother them. Ghostly tendrils of slime brushed against her clothes and felt like long green fingers of the dead.
Twenty feet on, they came out of the ankle deep water and into a cavern. She blinked and stopped, taken by surprise. The flashlight filled the cavern with dancing shadows, dark demons that teased her imagination. Something about the air gave a feeling of vast emptiness.
Then she saw the figure huddled against an outcrop of rock. With a small cry, she ran across. Squatting next to Ben, she frantically felt for a pulse. It was there, slow, erratic and weak.
"He's dying," Michael said softly, stopping just behind her.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back sudden tears. "No. I won't let him die."
