Wet and Freezing

Sewer - Sheridan, Wyoming

"I'll let you know if I need to stop," he replied. His voice was weak and she would hear the strain in his tone due to the exertion of crawling.

The cool, damp surroundings of the sewer were far from ideal, but they were also far safer than where they'd just escaped from. He watched Lydia's back as she led the way, her struggles with the wet, oversized clothing evident. He was in a similar predicament. His oversized clothes baggy and wet were creating resistance to forward movement. Lydia would hear his teeth chattering in between the groans, or spiked yelps as a cramp would come and go.

She was very slightly silhouetted by the flashlight at the forefront; however, ultimately it was pitch black dark in the rear. In addition, he was falling behind and Lydia would have to wait on the other end before he emerged as well at a snails pace.

When they finally reached a section of the sewer with more space, Finlay took a moment to stretch his aching limbs and catch his breath. He appreciated the opportunity to stand upright, with support from the side wall. He was drenched and noticeably shivering. "I'mmmm okay fff fffor nnnn nnn nn now," he assured Lydia, determined to keep moving and reach their destination. From the looks of things though, hypothermia might be a more present danger than the manhunt for Lydia.