The shadow in the tunnel fired back.

A bullet chipped the stone next to my head, showering me with dust.

Matteo pulled me down behind a pile of old wooden crates.

“We are trapped,” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

The screen lit up, showing a message from an unsaved number.

It was a single line of text.

‘Look under the altar.’

I looked at Matteo.

“The altar is upstairs,” I said. “Where they are.”

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on the message.

“No,” he said. “The old altar. The one down here.”

He pointed the flashlight toward the dark corner of the room.

A low, stone slab sat in the shadows, covered in centuries of dust.

The footsteps were just outside the chamber now.

A voice called out from the darkness.

“Matteo. It’s over. Give us the girl.”

Matteo did not move.

He kept his gun pointed at the entrance, his breathing slow and steady.

The light of a flashlight hit the wall opposite us.

The metal barrel of a rifle slowly appeared around the corner.