Raylan realized he was alone when he hit the junction, flashlight sweeping back towards where he knew Doc was standing but the light didn't make it that far, seemingly swallowed whole by the darkness behind him. It was enough to steal some of the fire out from under him. He didn't want to be alone.
"I won't go far," he promised the man standing back there somewhere before striding ahead into the straight most tunnel. Someone had to go look.
With the knife of his free hand on the wall, Raylan only got about halfway down the new section of tunnel before his flashlight flickered and went out. "Shit," he swore, slipping the knife into his back pocket and slamming the heel of his hand against the flashlight before throwing it as far as he could down the hall with a rough noise from the back of his throat that he kept clamped down. No, no screaming. Once that started, he worried it might not stop.
Squatting down, Raylan rubbed his hands against his face and tried to re-compartmentalize. Okay, light was gone. Options were gone. The only thing he could do was head back the way he came and sit and wait until something better occurred. Knowing better than to move around too much in the dark, Raylan turned around, put his hand on the wall and started slowly back. It seemed longer in the dark, like the walls stretched with the lack of light, to be whatever they wanted to be.
He was only really nervous about it once he got back to the juncture. It didn't sound hard to walk in a straight line, but if he was off and hit a wall and got redirected.. Well, he'd have to follow the sweetdark smell of cigarette smoke. With a deep breath, Raylan walked purposefully, hand waiting to run back into wall and he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath til it did. No turns. Just straight lines.
Not wanting to scare Doc anymore than he likely already had, Raylan spoke up as he slunk back, voice and tone quieter, tired, and somewhat defeated. "My light died." The bootsteps stopped and scuffed as Raylan sat down against the wall nearby, head falling back into his hands.
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"I won't go far," he promised the man standing back there somewhere before striding ahead into the straight most tunnel. Someone had to go look.
With the knife of his free hand on the wall, Raylan only got about halfway down the new section of tunnel before his flashlight flickered and went out. "Shit," he swore, slipping the knife into his back pocket and slamming the heel of his hand against the flashlight before throwing it as far as he could down the hall with a rough noise from the back of his throat that he kept clamped down. No, no screaming. Once that started, he worried it might not stop.
Squatting down, Raylan rubbed his hands against his face and tried to re-compartmentalize. Okay, light was gone. Options were gone. The only thing he could do was head back the way he came and sit and wait until something better occurred. Knowing better than to move around too much in the dark, Raylan turned around, put his hand on the wall and started slowly back. It seemed longer in the dark, like the walls stretched with the lack of light, to be whatever they wanted to be.
He was only really nervous about it once he got back to the juncture. It didn't sound hard to walk in a straight line, but if he was off and hit a wall and got redirected.. Well, he'd have to follow the sweetdark smell of cigarette smoke. With a deep breath, Raylan walked purposefully, hand waiting to run back into wall and he didn't realize he'd been holding his breath til it did. No turns. Just straight lines.
Not wanting to scare Doc anymore than he likely already had, Raylan spoke up as he slunk back, voice and tone quieter, tired, and somewhat defeated. "My light died." The bootsteps stopped and scuffed as Raylan sat down against the wall nearby, head falling back into his hands.
"Sorry for yellin'."