The tunnel seemed to stretch endlessly, with no clear indication of where it might lead. The walls were a patchwork of crumbling brick and exposed earth, filled with moisture and covered in a layer of grease. There were insects and small rodents that skittered across their path, disappearing into cracks before either of them could register what they'd seen.
Amélie imagined what purpose these underground passages might have served. Were they remnants of an old sewer system? A forgotten subway line, or something else?
She tried not to think about how deep they were or how far they might still have to go. She'd like to think of it as they're going on a long journey, only it's the one with no map, no destination, and no guarantee of getting out. Sucks to be them right now.
She glanced at Kazuo, who walked slightly ahead. She could sense his unease, mirroring her own.
