The ventilation shaft was dark and narrow, cold and dry. Crawling through the tunnels, Jos had a few bare centimetres on either side. His knuckles were raw, the muscles in his hand ached while his knees protested every movement. The ceiling was low and irregular - Jos kept banging his head. The air had a strange, metallic taste, and was far colder than Jos was used to. Back home he had never gone out much, there had been no need. He was glad to have his coat with him now, and tried to wrap it tighter around his body. The shaft was too narrow and he could not get it to work. Damn, he was too old to be crawling on his hands and knees.
Ahead, barely visible in the darkness, was Jonah, who seemed to move through the shaft effortlessly, as if he had been born there. He made it look so easy. Had he the choice again, Jos would have chosen an alternative route. This might be safer and faster but if he hit his head one more time, he would scream some choice obscenities. There was only one thing that Jos knew for certain: these shafts had not been designed for crawling through.
