When the shadow disappeared, Stutely's breath faltered, despair welling up thick and black in his gut. Gone. Their last bloody chance... Maybe it'd never been at all, maybe they'd both imagined it. Maybe it was nobody but the Sheriff, taking a nice leisurely patrol around the place, offering out a tiny glimmer of hope for them to touch before snatching it away.
He was climbing off his bed, shoulders sagging, when something thudded hard against the window of Tuck's cell. Another great thump, and the glass exploded inward, and a face, a blessedly mortal face, appeared on the other side.
Will staggered to the bars separating his cell from Tuck's. He found himself gripping them hard, all of a sudden unsteady on his feet. "Mate," he gasped. "Don't go. Please. We've been trapped down here for weeks, our mate's hurt badly, he needs a hospital."