On the Way
Leroy knew he had to go forward. On either side of him the cement walls ran so close that he had to keep his arms from swinging to avoid scraping the skin from his knuckles. Dripping water echoed overhead, and he sloshed through shallow puddles that soaked his Nikes and socks, freezing his feet. The only illumination came from the cell phone he held in front of him. Good thing he’d downloaded that flashlight app. He had a hard time identifying the smell over the scent of mildew, but whatever it was made him want to breathe through his mouth.