“What’s up?” he whispered, rubbing his palms together.

His back against the wall, Mike got his breathing under control, waiting for Julia’s answer.

Her flashlight illuminated the way forward up to a bend in the tunnel.

“We may have gone down the wrong fork, and it’s a long way back.”

“Great.” He rested his forearms on his knees.

He wiped the sand and gravel off his hands and knees. Sand clung to his skin and wet pants. Both knees were sore from the ground in sand from crawling through the tunnel.

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“I’ll tell you what, you stay here, and I’ll look up there and see what’s what.”

As she spoke, they heard far off shouts in the tunnel behind them. They weren’t whispering. The echoes of their voices made it difficult to know how far away they were. They were coming. That was a certainty.

Julia looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“Go, don’t be gone too long.”

She turned and crawled away.

The tunnel ahead of her curved out of sight, taking her and the light with it. There was just enough light left to make out his hands then the last of it disappeared. It was a black hell. He considered pulling out his lighter for the little illumination it could provide but decided against it. No sense in wasting the fuel. There wasn’t anything to see anyway.

Leaning the rifle on the wall, he relaxed and waited. The Afghanis would be here soon enough. They’d be faster than him but not as quick as Julia. She’d probably be back before they got here.