The camera showed the empty, dusty corridor outside our door.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed the lens.

It was Elena, holding a heavy black tool bag.

She stopped in front of the door’s control panel and began unscrewing the faceplate.

“She is bypassing the remote lock,” Daniel said, drawing his weapon.

“She can’t open it from there, but she can disable our manual override.”

“We will be locked in here permanently.”

“Elena!” I shouted into the intercom.

She did not look up, her screwdriver turning with steady, mechanical precision.

“She can’t hear you on this line,” Daniel said.

“The intercom is a one-way feed from the main office unless they accept the call.”

I looked at Clara, whose hand was twitching against the leather cot.

Her lips were moving, but no sound was coming out.

I leaned down close to her mouth, my ear almost touching her lips.

“The… well…” Clara whispered, her breath smelling of old copper.

“The well… has… a second…”

She coughed, a dry, rattling sound that shook her thin frame.

“A second what, Clara?” I asked.

“A second… pipe,” she whispered.