There are probably a few things worse than climbing into a hole that is actually underneath a creepy basement, but at that moment, it was hard to think of any of them.
I was only a few steps down the ladder before I was plunged into darkness. The dim light in the cellar wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the gloom. I was also pretty sure that the tunnel was narrower now, and as I took another step down, both my shoulders brushed the walls.
The metallic taste of fear flooded my mouth as my suddenly sweaty hands slid on the iron rungs.
“Mercer?” Archer called from above me. “You okay?”
I rested my forehead on the back of my hands, and tried to keep the panic out of my voice as I replied, “Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re gasping.”
Oh. Now that he mentioned it, my breath was heaving in and out of my lungs pretty quickly. I made an effort to slow it down as he asked, “Is it the dark, or-“ He grunted a little and shifted. Dirt rained down on me, and I shut my eyes.
“Both,” I choked out. “Apparently I’m claustrophobic now. That’s, uh, new. Probably a side effect of fleeing a burning building through an underground tunnel.” I took another shaky breath. “Yay for psychological trauma.”
“Come back up,” Archer said automatically, and I kind of loved him for that.
“No,” I said, willing my feet to keep moving. “We’re trying to save the world here, Cross. No time for panic attacks.

Autore: Rachel Hawkins