Another fine mess...

This is a fine mess and now, I've got someone else to protect. Why the hell did I let Warren come? He didn't need to leave...he wanted to leave. He will regret that choice, sooner or later; we all have.
Wearing my helmet, I don't need the flashlight, so I stop and hand it to Warren. With the infrared vision, he looks like a scared animal, except his eyes don't really reflect and they look lifeless, hollow, and flat. The fear is written on his face...I need to get him topside.
Proceeding down the tunnel, we come to a split; according to my arm band sensors, we need to follow the right tunnel another 500 yards, which will lead us to a ladder. As we slog along the dark and dank slim covered brick passage, I feel the damp creeping up my pant legs. We are going to stink and our clothes will have to be thrown away; there will be no way to explain our appearance or putrid fragrance. Warren follows along, silently, uncomplaining; he doesn't belong in this mess...what have I done to him?
I need to focus! Redirecting my thoughts, I recheck my sensors. If my time piece is correct, then it is about 2 a.m. If we have any luck with us, then we will come up near a clothing shop or stores.
Stopping below the ladder, I hand Warren my bags and instruct him to wait; I need to check the situation on the surface. I feel the ache in my ribs climbing up the rusting rungs, God, I feel like hell. The manhole cover pushes up easily and I tilt it enough to peek out. Sensors indicate no movement by any lifeforms...no, wait...rats.