J.C. feels like he is in a dream.
One second, he is running as fast as he can toward the gate, carrying an unconscious man. The next, he is floating.
Then, a second later, he is thrown out of the dungeon, rolling across the ground before ending up flat on his back.
Did that really take only three seconds?
From running to lying out here?
J.C. does not even need to look around to know where he is.
He is outside.
How does he know?
The ground feels different.
Hard.
Solid.
Concrete and rubble beneath his back.
The air is different too.
Fresh.
Wind moving across his face.
No longer stale.
No longer thick with the scent of blood.
Then there are the sounds.
Inside the dungeon, there was only screaming.
Panic.
Terror.
But out here, the noise is different.
Sirens in the distance.
Heavy machinery working.
Engines.
Voices.
People talking.
Not screaming.
J.C. exhales slowly.
He is no longer in the dungeon.
He is certain of it.
