.28 | the lion's den

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The air got colder the farther down the group went, and the musty smell of old, sitting water and dank nooks and crannies assaulted their nostrils. When they couldn't see the light from the main floor flooding down the stairwell any longer, the mercenaries flicked on their torch lights and permitted Sam to hold one so that they didn't accidentally fall into a pit of spikes or something they couldn't see. The stairs turned to long, narrow corridors carved deep into the earth, with rats scurrying out of the light beams and into hidden hideaways.

The candlestick still clutched to her chest, Theodora used it as some kind of grounding anchor, running her thumb over the fine, elegant engravings and reminding herself she was still there, still going. She wasn't one to shy away from the dark, but the pounding in her head accompanied by the thunderous footsteps behind her, the wound clawing furiously at her shoulder... it all made her mind spin like she was inside a crashing airplane.

When she stumbled and nearly fell, the tips of her boots dragging in the dust, Sam reached out to catch her before she tumbled to the ground. "Hey, honey, hey, you're alright. It's alright."

The small troop came to a halt as he glanced over his shoulder, brows knit together with concern and sweat trickling down his temple. "We need to stop," he said, voice teetering on the edge of desperate. "She's not doing well."

"Tough shit," said Rafe and gestured with his pistol. "Get her up. We keep moving until we find it."

Theodora held her candlestick close and felt herself sweating profusely, huffing out breaths as Sam hoisted her up to her feet and wrapped a secure arm around her waist to keep her upright. The heat emitting from his body so close, close in a sense she had never felt before even after the night they shared at the motel, was such a contrast to the cool metal in her hand that it muddled her thoughts slightly as they carried on.

Behind them, Nadine's eyes flashed in the torch light and she stared a horrible glare into the space between Rafe's shoulder blades, so intense it could have caused a fire.

          After what felt like miles of walking, the narrow stone hallway at last began to curve outwards and open up into a small chamber. There was only one other opening to go through, a doorway across the room leading into yet another corridor of darkness that hosted whatever nightmares and diseased parasites waiting for them. The side walls of the chamber were lined with mummified corpses, looking not so differently than those from ancient Egypt, though there was nothing sacred or holy about the way they had been wrapped. Hands sticking out of the bandages threatened to move as they crept past and empty eye sockets stared at them from their eternal restraints.

          "What the hell is this supposed to be?" asked Nadine as she spun. Turning in a slow circle, she watched the tail end of her men bumble into the chamber, making the entire room a bit crowded, and the last to come through took a step back to make some space for himself. He bumped into one of the mummies, and it imploded.

          A deafening, wall-rattling clap of what could have been godly thunder shook the chamber and those who had been standing close to the mummy were caught in the fire, as well. Theodora and Sam rocked on their feet, as did Rafe and Nadine, and the rest of the Shoreline men froze all at once upon seeing their comrades fall. Well, more like splattered.

          As soon as the dust stopped falling from the ceiling and the air settled, Nadine rounded on their captives, nostrils flared wide and eyes furious. "You knew about this!" she accused. Her voice echoed off the stone walls like they were murmuring her words back to her themselves. "This entire place is a death trap!"

          "We didn't!" said Theodora. She inched further into the tight circle the survivors had formed, pushing themselves as far away from the rigged bodies as was possible. "We didn't know, I swear."

          Rafe switched his gaze to the chamber's exit, the other doorway across the room. Set against either side of it were two mummified corpses, staring them down as if asking if they had the bravery to risk more of their own. God knew if they were triggered by touching them, or even the simple act of getting too close.

          Theodora followed his icy eyes to the doorway before her own dropped to the candlestick in her hand. She swallowed thick and scooted back as far into the group as she could, then feebly extended her left hand to shield Sam. "Get down," she said to the others, then hurled the stick of gold toward the mummies with a baseball poster-perfect form. It touched the left body for just a fraction of a moment, giving it just a gentle kiss, before being blown back by a storm of searing yellow fire and debris. The explosion triggered the one across the doorway and it, too, burst with enough force the make the ground beneath their feet tremble and the earth above their heads threaten to fall.

          Peering through the dust refusing to settle, Theodora estimated that what happened next took five seconds, perhaps even three or four. Using the clouds and plumes from the debris to his advantage, Sam twisted around and snatched the pistol from one of the mercenary's belt, grabbed Theodora, and hauled her through the doorway. On their way out, he turned and fired a single bullet over his shoulder into the room, igniting a new chain of explosions that sent their captives scrambling for balance, cover, anything to shield them from the hell exploding around them.

          From the wreckage they were bolting from, wounded prey escaping the lion's den, they heard Rafe's ungodly howl. "Samuel!"

          A muzzle flashed in the darkness behind them and they practically slammed into a wall before rounding a tight corner, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets that flew into the place they had just been standing. Down a maze of lookalike corridors and chambers they fled, deeper and deeper into a lair of darkness that consumed them so tightly they had no way of knowing where they were going.

          They didn't stop, though, not for a moment, even after the explosions had quieted, the voices were unheard, and the light disappeared for good.

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