Icy panic engulfed Sawyer as he ran, the image of Beth seared across his brain. What were the chances of her being alive, let alone here? A billion to one. The desire to escape burned his veins as his feet ran on autopilot, his hand crushing Julia’s.

More shots plowed into the concrete close by. Crap aim, but it wouldn’t take much for them to get lucky. He yanked Julia to the left, cutting into the maze of illuminated shelving, Garrick and the others close at their heels.

White light burned Sawyer’s retinas after the dimness of the pumping station. He dodged through the racks of plants, making it impossible for anyone to get a clear shot. Within a minute they burst out the other side of the plant nursery, his lungs protesting in fiery indignation. More shots rang out, and Julia slowed at his side, resisting his momentum. What the hell was she doing? He tightened his grip on her hand, fearful of losing her in the panic. Without hesitation he dragged her toward the black water and jumped in.

His boots connected with the uneven floor of the tunnel as he found his balance in the chest high water. He shook his head, wiping water from his eyes as he searched for threat, but only the rest of his team following him were visible, weapons held close to their chests as they jumped.

Julia coughed beside him, her eyes wide with fear, her hair plastered around her face. “Move!” he screamed, catching her by the shoulders and propelling her forward.

Sawyer barreled through the filthy water, pushing Julia with determined violence. She was his number one priority as he headed toward the bend of the tunnel where they’d be out of direct range. Already, his thighs ached from the sluggish resistance of the water and the debris trying to trip him up at every step. Violet was close behind cursing. Garrick and the others fanned out in a semi-circle to his rear.

Shouts echoed behind them as the doors of the nursery slammed noisily at their backs. Their pursuers were not giving up. Bullets sliced into the water, dangerously close. Sawyer rounded the corner of the tunnel where the safety of darkness beckoned, glancing over his shoulder one last time. A small, disheveled group of men were firing at them. Some were screaming and gesticulating; two were in the water, following.

Straight ahead was dark forcing Sawyer to click on his headlight. Eroded brickwork sprang into sharp relief under the bloody red light as he waded into the deepening water. Julia panted next to him in short panicked gasps.

A shot bit the bricks above his head, shattering ancient stone and dusting him in grit. He stumbled, dirty water sloshing in his mouth, the stench of fetid sludge nearly knocking him off his feet. Fuck, they were close.

“Headlights off,” he hissed at the others. “We’re giving them targets.”

The red beams surrounding him clicked off instantly, and they were enveloped in inky blackness. Julia’s grip on Sawyer tightened, her small hands managing to grind the bones of his fingers. He fumbled for the wall with his free left hand.

“Shit. Fucking excellent,” Foster said.

“Shut the hell up.” Sawyer snapped more abruptly than he intended. Seeing Beth had unnerved him. “Use the wall and keep moving.”

The blackness pressed against his nose and mouth. Was it his imagination, or was he finding it more difficult to breathe? Julia was shaking, the vibration penetrating his skin, needling into his bones. Damn, he needed to get her the hell out of here and fast.

They stormed on in total darkness until the angry voices behind them faded then ceased, and no more bullets cut the water. Finally the depth of the water eased and became shallower.

Sawyer reached up to click his headlight back on.

“Visiting?” The voice was close, a sibilant hiss in the dark.

“Shit,” Violet muttered, bumping into Sawyer as red light suffused the subterranean space. Hardy, Foster, and Garrick were a few feet away, waist-deep in putrid water, their weapons aimed downwards. Julia clung to him, eyes darting and her nostrils flaring.

Sawyer pivoted, raising his weapon. The red beams only penetrated the darkness so far. Staring beyond into the blackness and trying to see something, anything, made his eyes ache. Water rattled from the leaking ceiling, obscuring any attempts to locate their attacker by sound. He slowed his breathing, waiting for the speaker to betray their location.

Julia was torn from his grasp in one violent movement.

“Sawy—” Her scream was cut off as she was dragged from him. Murky water closed over her head in a thick rush, and she was gone.

“Julia!”

His hands spread wide in the empty water as he dove after her. Desperate, he opened his eyes below the surface, but below was a void, hiding even his own hands from him. He exploded back to the surface where the others had surged forward, panic etched on their faces. He pulled his knife from its sheath on his belt, clutching it in his hands in futility.

“Julia!” His throat ached from his furious cry.

Something knocked his shins and a vice-like grip closed around his legs and tugged hard. Unbalanced, his hands shot out scrabbling for purchase on the rough brickwork. His pulse rifle was torn from his back, and his fingernails ripped down the crumbling wall as he crashed into the water, a pair of heavy shoulders connecting with his legs.

Sawyer drove his knife forward and up, the blade connecting with thick wetsuit rubber. The blade shuddered to a halt, but Sawyer didn’t. Greasy, sloshing water closed over his head, sealing him off from the world above while steely hands squeezed the knife from his grip. He yanked his hands free, scrabbling for the knife handle, but bony fingers found the softness of his throat. His feet scraped uselessly on the slippery stonework as he pushed for the surface, but his assailant had locked onto him, compressing his windpipe.

His lungs burned, protesting painfully. He gave up trying to stand and curled his legs in front of him in a fetal ball. Ramming with all the strength his oxygen starved limbs could muster he jammed his boots straight into his attacker. Finally, his neck was released, and he burst through the surface, coughing dirty water and gasping for dirty air.

Julia.

He shook the water from his eyes. To his left, Violet frantically probed the water, her pulse rifle skating the surface beneath the glow of her headlamp.

“Can’t see anything,” she barked. “Too dark.” Garrick and the others approached, their faces strained.

“Sawyer!” Julia screamed from the darkness in front of him where his beam didn’t penetrate.

Sawyer pulled his handgun from his hip holster and straightened his arms, moving forward. He saw the face barreling toward him in the last instant before it broke the surface. Hard features, silver bubbles streaming from the mouth, and then the dark haired man was on him, and they fell back into the water again.

Slicing pain cut through his thigh and a hot burst of blood warmed his skin. He rammed the nose of his SIG hard against his attacker and discharged the weapon. Vibration hummed against his ears as the body of the man went limp.

Sawyer shoved the man away from him and surfaced, spluttering. Strong fingers closed around his collar, and Hardy heaved him backward out the water by the scruff of his neck.

The corpse of the man surfaced, Sawyer’s knife still embedded in the front of his shoulder.

“Hell.” Sawyer straightened and spat out filthy water.

“Sawyer.”

He spun at the sound of her voice, and there she was, but not alone. A dark haired man was behind Julia, the serrated edge of his hunting knife pressed just above her collarbone. His other hand held her by the neck of her armor, forcing her head down in a gesture of submission. Her chest rose and fell in rasping breaths as she stumbled forward through the water.

An acid twist of pain turned in Sawyer’s gut as he maintained eye contact with her captor.

The man jerked his head, indicating behind him. “Weapons above your head. Leven here will collect them from you.”

Another man, with dirty blond hair, emerged sneering from the gloom and waded over to Sawyer to collect his weapons. Sawyer glared as he relinquished his SIG, realizing as he did so that Violet, Foster, and Garrick had melted into the darkness. Only Hardy stood behind him. He glanced back at Julia. Her eyes were wide with fear and questions. He gave the tiniest shake of his head as Leven scooped the dropped pulse rifle from the water.

Leven smiled, revealing several gold-capped teeth. “We’ll check you over once we’re out the water, just in case you forgot anything.” Then he moved back to where the first man stood. “Good to go, Darr.”

Darr nudged Julia in the back. Already off-balance she staggered under the pressure of his weapon.

Sawyer dug his nails deep into his palms.

“Okay, you two. Ahead of the lady. Let’s go.”

Sawyer stepped protectively in front of Julia with his hands on top of his head. Hardy followed, his broad face emotionless as Leven and Darr marched them into the unknown.