The blackness was nearly complete, but for the dim electric glow of the tunnel lights. It was incredibly disconcerting to look away from the light, for with no contours or shading to provide perspective, the consuming darkness made Howard feel as if he had his eyes permanently closed.
He let out a tentative cough. The only replying echo came from the rock of the tunnel mouth; from the vast expanse of murkiness before him came nothing. They had to be in a cave of mammoth dimensions, he thought, for no sky was this devoid of stars, and no surface air was this stale. But then he looked back at his underworld taxi and the man rummaging through its boot, and realized that he could never again count on the usual rules of reality.
Phil emerged from the rear of the car holding two stout, black cylinders. He handed one to Howard, who saw that it was a pop-up electric lantern of dark matte colour and rugged make; in fact, he had taken this model on a camping trip once. He pulled the handle upwards, and a bright cylinder of light slid out of its sheath. In the darkness, the stark white light from the LEDs was nearly blinding to look at directly, but it cast a steady, pale halo around him, driving back the dark at least a small way.