I saw Isabella scramble toward Eli, wrapping her body around his to shield him.

Above us, a heavy iron door stood slightly ajar, a sliver of gray street light cutting through the gap.

The exit.

But between us and the door, the passage was a bottleneck.

I fired two shots back down the corridor to keep them cover.

“Go for the door!” I yelled to Isabella.

She didn’t hesitate.

She grabbed Eli by the hand and scrambled up the steep incline toward the gray light.

I moved to follow them, keeping my gun pointed backward.

Then, I heard Luca gasp.

It was a wet, heavy sound.

I turned to see him stumble, his shoulder slamming into the brick wall.

He slid down, his hand clutching his thigh where a dark stain was already spreading through his trousers.

“Luca!” I shouted.

“Keep going,” he gasped, his teeth clenched in pain.

I lunged back down the slope and grabbed his collar, dragging him upward.

His boots dragged uselessly in the mud.

He was too heavy, and the angle was too steep.