The tunnel blurred around me, a smear of rusted steel and cracked tile. My breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each step a war against my failing strength. The rats closed in, their bodies moving as one, a tide of hunger and instinct.
I lunged for the panel.
Fingers slammed against the cold metal, searching for the switch, the override, anything to bring it back to life. The screen remained black. Dead.
A shriek of frustration tore from my throat. I hit it again. Harder. My palm stung from the impact, but I didn't stop.
No hum. No flickering code. No static burst.
The kid had shut it off, and now it was really dead.
The rats moved.
Their bodies rippled forward, slick fur brushing against tile, their tiny, clicking nails tapping out a sound that made my stomach twist. A hundred black voids for eyes locked onto me. Their pink noses twitched at the air, sensing the sweat, the blood, the exhaustion pressing me down like lead.
I stumbled back.
