The tunnels are endless black as far as the eye can see, so black Rodeo can hardly see Emilie's big eyes in the dark. The mad silver-blue catches on the faintest shines of light, reflecting like a nocturnal creature's. He holds on to her hand, knowing if she let go, if she vanished into the impenetrable dark, he'd be lost here and completely vulnerable to the hungry things that haunt these tunnels. Chills keep crawling up and down his spine. His hold on Emilie's hand is strong, fingers laced tightly with hers, his only tether. Any time he thinks that grip might be slipping, that her hold might be loosening, he only squeezes tighter.
If that desperate hold on her hand isn't evidence enough of how much the tunnels unnerve him, he gives an uncharacteristic jump and surprised grunt when something stirs in the shadows near them. But it's just a junkie tripping in a puddle, moaning guttural little whines into the echoing dark. Rodeo moves closer to Emile and keeps walking.
The tunnels are as convoluted as a web of arteries and blood vessels, but Emilie knows the way to get him where he needs to be at the heart of the city. The sewer grate they reach opens up to the first floor of the Capitol's parking garage according to the information about the Capitol's layout Adelaide had given him months ago. The ground floor which is open and mostly unused due to the risk of blister gas and geek trespassers. The door he needs is on the second floor, where the walls of the parking garage have been closed in to keep the gas out. Rodeo can only hope that the patrolmen are all occupied on the perimeters of the Capitol's high fence thanks to the false information fed to them through the rat, can only hope none will spot him coming up through the sewer grate. He reaches up, grabbing the bars of the grate and carefully pushing the cover out, wincing as it scrapes the cement. He elbows up to peek out, seeing the first floor of the garage clear and empty save for a rusted out police cruiser, chewed up by the gas. He lowers back down, turning to Emilie and bringing his hands up to frame either side of her jaw, tipping her face up to his.
"Thank you, baby," he breathes. He has no idea what might come next, if he'll ever make it back to this point, so he leans in a seals his lips over Emilie's, the kiss affectionate but brief. He's got no time for more, but if he's gonna die today he won't go without a last kiss. He draws back, dropping his hands from Emilie's face and stepping back. "I'll see you on the other side."
He doesn't linger any longer. Rodeo grips the edge of the opening, hauling himself up and out easily. He looks at Emilie through the bars of the grate as he shifts it back into place, his heart starting to beat heavily in his chest, pounding like drums of war against his ribcage. He reaches back, drawing Crow Jane out of his jeans as he climbs the cement staircase to the second floor, door C, where he's counting on Nate to be waiting. When Rodeo reaches the barred door, he holds his breath and lifts a hand, tapping his knuckles lightly against the steel.