The door rattled violently, the sound reverberating through the small room. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, each inhale burning my lungs. Damian leaned against the barrel we had shoved in front of the door, his face tense, his hands gripping the jagged piece of metal tightly.
"They're going to break through," he said, his voice low but urgent.
"Not if we find another way out," I replied, scanning the room. The flickering bulb cast erratic shadows, making it hard to see clearly. My eyes landed on a narrow vent near the ceiling, the grille rusted and loose. It wasn't ideal, but it was something.
"There," I said, pointing. "That's our way out."
Damian followed my gaze, his expression skeptical. "You sure we'll fit?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
