I internally winced at each clatter my hammer made against the metal, and after a while I ended simply raising the hand holding it and awkwardly crawling along with three hands and knees instead of four. It was a lot more stealthy, anyways, and the need to be stealthy could very well be needed. What if I encountered one of them, who had somehow found their way in here? Or perhaps another human, so insane from isolation they'd kill me? ...Well, perhaps that wasn't likely. I must have consumed too much zombie apocalypse media.

Still, the need to be cautious felt better than just simply clattering around without a care. I had survived this long, it would be a shame for a simple mistake like that to be my end. 

My somewhat scattered thoughts froze, hearing a voice reverberate along the metal walls of the vent. I could feel my blood go cold, recognizing that voice immediately to be one of my friends. My shoulders shook with anticipation as my thoughts spiraled. Could she actually be here, alive and well? Was she with the others? Or was she simply a figment of my imagination? Had I gone mad?

Regardless, I called out, perhaps without thinking things through. "Leah?" If it was truly her, I didn't want my caution to get in the way of finding someone alive in this place. If not, then I would simply accept the fact I've gone mad and attempt to shake myself into sanity. Surely it was a win-win situation, no matter the choice.