Chapter 121

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-One

Darkness pushed in on Connor—unnatural and complete. Wherever he’d fallen, it was as stuffy and hot as the world above, and it stank.

He sat up, groaning when he shifted the leg that he’d injured during the shuttle crash. Once again, it was tender and hard to move.

That might not mean anything, though. The downside of the salves and other treatments he’d used for the bruise was that they masked some of the injury pain. If he’d just irritated the bruised tissue again, the stiffness would pass.

Dust had settled on his lips and eyelids: dry and ancient.

He brushed the powdery substance from his face and hacked up more of the phlegm, then got to his feet.

Rock shifted beneath him with a loud scraping, then settled.

His flashlight was out, as were the lights from his armor. All of them going out at once seemed unlikely, but that was the way this place worked.

He checked the belt pouch that held his glow sticks: only one left.