Feeling around in the dark, still battling the sharp ache in his skull, Elliott found a metal door that swung wildly in the blustering storm. Praying that the Strangers weren’t on the other side of it, he slipped through and pulled Jade along as the wind slammed the door closed behind them. The pressure on the opposite side held the door closed now, and Elliott felt for Jade in the flat, unrelieved darkness. The storm’s roar was even more muted, and he strained to hear and see. Groping blindly, but unwilling to move about for fear the floor was unstable or had collapsed, he felt the rough brick wall, damp and soft with mold. “Jade,” he whispered quietly, feeling it was safe to do so, for he couldn’t see anything—let alone the glow of a crystal from a Stranger. If they were here, they sure as hell weren’t in this room. “Here,” she said, low and to his right. The syllable was barely discernable beneath the rumbling storm.
