Voices screamed from the other end of the choked tunnel. Those few who had survived could do nothing but wait. Mothers clutching children, bankers clutching briefcases. Street punks and tourists and high school jocks. Here they were all the same, huddled together, desperate to delay the inevitable.
We ignored them.
“Well?” He asked, laughter in his eyes and a dare in his voice. He held out a hand, fingers wiggling. Taunting me.
He’d told me his name in the aftermath, covered in dust with that same taunting look in his eyes. I hadn’t believed him at first.
I did now.
My stomach clenched. Not with fear, though. I’d already made my decision, made it long before his taunt. Even so, I held my breath as I reached up to take his offered hand.
It wasn’t every day you chose to walk into hell hand in hand with the devil himself.