Aren and Daniel raced through the final stretch of the sewer corridor. The tunnel gradually sloped upward until they saw a rusted ladder ahead.
Daniel reached it first.
"Up," he muttered.
Aren followed without slowing. The metal rungs rattled as they climbed quickly. Daniel pushed open the heavy maintenance hatch at the top as the cold wind rushed in.
They emerged into the Market District's warehouse quarter, where long rows of shipping buildings were present but not many people were around.
Aren crouched immediately beside the hatch. The concrete around it was damp.
"Footprints," he said.
Daniel leaned over his shoulder. Dark wet marks led away from the hatch, trailing into the main street.
Without another word, the two of them began running again, following the trail between the towering warehouse walls and metal containers. The prints led them through a narrow service alley before finally spilling out onto a wider road.
