It took everything Elektra had not to bury her knives in Neville's chest the second he grabbed her. If she hadn't glimpsed the slithery reptile half a second before Neville obscured her vision, she might've done just that. Then they were moving and clinging to the vestiges of her spatial awareness became temporarily more important than immediately lashing out.
As soon as he let go, she spun, ready to do just that - and stilled when she read the words Neville had conjured. His penmanship might have been haphazard, but she caught the gist. "You've got to be kidding me." She knew the thing had seen them - heard them, too - and there was no hope of outrunning it when they didn't know where they were going.
"Count to ten," she said, forming the words as clearly as she could before the glare of Neville's magic faded. She had used her lighter to illuminate her path as she went through the maze before, but light was the last thing they needed right now.
She trusted Neville to understand her as she took one step back. Then another. And finally bolted down the tunnel, her boots kicking up dust as she took no pains at all to escape notice. Unless Neville foolishly used his wand, the basilisk should take off after her. Into the dark. Where Elektra would be waiting.
And if it didn't, well. Neville's sacrifice would be remembered.