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Thoughts of Ember twists my gut worse than any physical blow.
Where is she?
What are they doing to her?
The uncertainty is its own kind of torture, gnawing at the edges of my sanity. The image of her scared, hurt, alone… It’s unbearable. I grit my teeth, feeling the tears sting my eyes, hating myself for the weakness. I can’t break.
Not for myself, not for her.
I have to hold on.
Bruiser’s fist connects with my temple, and the world spins, colors bleeding together in a nauseating whirl. Pain, sharp and sudden, snaps me back from the edge of unconsciousness. I force my eyes open, blinking through the haze.
“Boss says we can’t kill you.” Smiley continues to taunt me, dragging the blade of a knife along my arm. The cold steel drags against my skin before it bites deep. “Didn’t say anything about permanent damage though.”
The knife bites into flesh, the burn of it immediate and scalding. A line of fire traces down my bicep, warm blood trickling, following the curve of muscle. I let out a low groan, clenching my teeth as the pain lances through me. They want me to scream, want me to beg, but I won’t give them the satisfaction. Not now, not ever.
Focus.
Breathe.
The tracker embedded beneath my shoulder blade is Guardian’s insurance policy. Mitzy will find me. She alwaysdoes. She’s relentless, and her drones have saved our asses more times than I can count.
If I can hold out long enough, they’ll come. The thought becomes a lifeline, something to cling to as another punch lands, sending me reeling.
Another punch.
Another kick.
My body jerks against the restraints, an unwilling dance of pain and defiance. Every muscle screams, every nerve alight, but I hold on to that thought, that hope.
Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, taunting me, tempting me to slip away into oblivion. Consciousness becomes a slippery thing, threatening to slide away with each new burst of agony. My thoughts fracture, splintering as the pain crescendos, and I wonder if this is it, if this is the time I don’t come back.
A glint of movement catches my eye—something small, almost imperceptible. At first, it seems like another trick of my battered mind, another hallucination brought on by pain and exhaustion. But there, hovering near the ceiling vent—a tiny mechanical form flits through the grate.
Hope surges, sharp and bright as lightning, cutting through the darkness threatening to swallow me.
Mitzy’s drones. The advance scouts of Guardian’s cavalry. My breath hitches, the pain momentarily forgotten, replaced by the electric thrill of hope. They’re close. They’ve found me.
The tiny machine hovers, its presence invisible to my tormentors. They continue their brutal work, oblivious to the technological spy witnessing their cruelty. It moves slowly, deliberately, its camera trained on me.
I bite down on my lip, holding back a relieved laugh. Not yet. Not now. I can’t let them see.
“What’s so funny, tough guy?” Bruiser grabs my hair, yanking my head back. Pain radiates through my skull, but thesight of that tiny drone, the promise it carries, keeps me steady. A trickle of blood runs down my chin, warm against my cold skin.
Laughter bubbles up again, raw and broken. They don’t understand. Can’t comprehend what’s coming. They think they’re invincible, that no one will find this hidden hole they’ve dragged me into.
My team will find me.
Another blow lands. Then another. The pain is distant now, secondary to the surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. Every hit, every kick is just another second bought, another step closer to freedom. I can take it. I can take anything if it means they’re coming for me.
Hold on, Ember. I’m coming for you.
The tiny drone disappears back into the vent, its mission complete. I watch it go, the small glint of metal fading into the darkness. Soon, this room will become a killing ground.
The door slams shut behind Bruiser and Smiley, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Silence descends, broken only by the steady drip of blood from my chin to the concrete floor and the ragged sound of my breathing. My body throbs in time with my heartbeat, each pulse a reminder of their handiwork.
Movement catches my attention—a flicker from the corner of my vision. Another drone, different from the first. This one approaches with purpose, hovering near my face. Before I can process its intent, it darts toward my ear.