“Are you all right?”
“I feel like I’ve been through a meat grinder.”
Josie fell silent, trying to keep calm. She was faring better than Jack, it was up to her to keep them moving. They were both very tired now. They’d gone too long without food or water. Adrenaline and fear had milked their muscles dry, and now they stood bonelessly, too fatigued to think. In the meantime, the cool cavern air hit the perspiration coating their skins, chilling them too fast for safety.
Josie had her orange jumpsuit, but Jack could only shift in place for warmth, his threadbare socks and B.V.D.s not offering enough cover for a tropical beach, let alone an underground cave. His dress shirt still hung in tatters on the handcuffs between them, but he appeared too tired and dazed to put it on.
“We need water,” he mumbled thickly. “The…cavern…”
Josie frowned, not understanding, but then her ears picked out what her eyes couldn’t—the rhythmic sound of water slapping against stone.
“Okay, Stryker,” she said firmly. “Time to move.”
He gave a hoarse bark of laughter that ended as a groan.
“Come on,” she said, hands on her hips, face determined. “You were a Boy Scout. Surely you can handle more than this. Time to march!”
“Yeah.” He tried to step, but his overwrought muscles gave out and his legs folded beneath him instantly. He grimaced, his hands struggling for something to hold on to. “I swear I didn’t think I’d had that many beers,” he muttered.
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