The tunnel stretched on for what felt like hours, their footsteps echoing in the darkness like a metronome counting down to something inevitable. Henrik's breathing had steadied, but it was labored. Rhett could feel the tremor in his shoulders, the way his weight shifted more heavily against him with each step.
They didn't have to run anymore. No one was on their heels, and the tunnels seemed empty of any immediate danger. The only movements Rhett witnessed were the scramblings of rats or cockroaches when they got close—ordinary vermin scavenging in the ruins of civilization.
It was then that Rhett realized that he was seriously hungry. His stomach growled like a beast, reminding him that he had not eaten for over a day. What would happen if he died from starvation? Was it like drowning or hypothermia, where with nothing in his stomach, would his guts just self-cannibalize themselves for all eternity?
