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“A few more,” Ember’s breath catches. “The entrance is hidden. Behind the old maintenance room.”
Second-floor landing—a guard emerges from nowhere, rifle raised. Time slows.
His finger tightens on the trigger. The muzzle flash blooms.
I move without thinking, spinning to cover Ember. Pain explodes through my shoulder as the round finds flesh.
Brett’s shotgun thunders. The guard’s chest disappears in a red mist.
“Blaze!” Ember’s hands press against the wound, coming away slick with blood.
“Keep moving,” I grit out. The pain is distant, unimportant. “We’re not done.”
The Rufis lead us through maintenance corridors. Their sensors map the hidden passages Ember remembers. The air grows thick with mold and decay.
“Here.” Ember stops at a false wall. Her fingers find hidden catches. “Help me.”
The panel slides away, revealing stairs descending into darkness. The stench of fear and hopelessness rises from below.
“Rufis, night vision protocols,” Jenny orders. “Breach and clear.”
The mechanical hounds bound down the stairs, red targeting lasers cutting through shadow. Their sensors sweep the space below.
“Clear,” Mac calls from behind us. “But we’ve got movement ahead.”
We descend into hell. The basement opens into a maze of corridors. Chain link cages line the walls. Small faces peer out from the darkness, eyes wide with terror and desperate hope.
“Oh God.” Ember’s voice breaks. “There’s more than before.”
A dozen children. Maybe more. Some no older than six. All wearing the hollow-eyed look of the forgotten.
“Get them out!” Jenny’s voice carries steel and fury. “All of them.”
The Rufis stand guard as we move from cage to cage. Bolt cutters make quick work of the locks. My hands shake with rage as tiny bodies press against me, seeking protection.
“It’s okay,” Ember soothes, gathering the smallest ones close. “We’re here to help. You’re safe now.”
A boy, no more than eight, shrinks away from the Rufi units. I kneel despite the pain, keeping my voice gentle.
“They’re here to protect you,” I say, letting him touch the mechanical frame. “Nothing’s going to hurt you anymore.”
“Incoming,” Brett warns from the corridor. “Multiple tangos approaching.”
“Rufis, defensive protocol seven,” Jenny orders. “Brett, Mac—funnel them into killing zones. No one touches these kids.”
The mechanical hounds bound away, taking up positions. Their targeting systems paint the darkness red.
Gunfire erupts above. Screams follow.
“We need to move.” Jenny’s voice carries urgency. “Ember—you know another way out?”
“No.” She gathers two small girls in her arms.
“Mitzy,” Jenny calls over the comms. “You got us a route out of here? Preferably one that doesn’t involve going up again?”
“You’re deep underground. I show drainage tunnels. They lead to the river.”
“Show us.” Jenny checks her HUD while Mac, Brett, and I guard our rear. Then we move out on Jenny’s order.