I held my breath, my fingers digging into the dirt floor.

The phone in Matteo’s hand vibrated once more.

A new message appeared on the screen.

‘Five seconds.’

Before I could ask what it meant, a low, rumbling sound shook the ground beneath us.

The stone walls trembled, and dust began to fall from the ceiling.

A sudden, bright light flared from the tunnel behind the gunman.

An explosion shook the entire crypt, throwing us forward onto the dirt.

The sound of screaming and falling rock filled the air.

The flashlight went out.

In the pitch black, the rumbling stopped, replaced by the sound of coughing and settling dust.

“Matteo?” I whispered into the dark.

There was no answer.

A hand grabbed my ankle, tight and cold.

I tried to pull away, but the grip tightened.

“Emily,” a voice whispered from the floor.

It was not Matteo’s.

A match was struck, the small yellow flame illuminating a face covered in dust and blood.

It was Gianni.

He was lying under a fallen stone beam, his legs pinned.

He held a small black remote control in his other hand.