Page 35

Emilia jerks upright from her curled position.

We both freeze, watching the door creak open with an eerie slowness.

A guard steps in, balancing a wooden tray in his hand—two bowls, likely the same flavorless slop they’ve been feeding us since we arrived. His eyes flicker over us with disinterest, his shoulders slack as if this is just another routine task.

That’s his first mistake.

The moment his foot fully crosses the threshold, Emilia lunges—like a desperate animal pouncing for survival.

“Please! Please! Let me out!” she screams, her voice sharp with hysteria as she grabs at his arm, sending the tray crashing to the ground. Food splatters in thick wet splashes across the floor. The bowls clatter and roll into the shadows.

The guard stumbles, cursing as his free arm tries to shove Emilia off him, but she clings like a lifeline, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t leave me in here with her! Please!” she cries, sobbing and wrapping both arms tightly around his waist.

He tries again to shove her off, stumbling slightly—exactly what I need.

Without hesitation, I dart forward, silent and swift.

In one motion, I grab the rusted metal bucket from the corner, its edges damp with condensation. The weight of it feels right in my hands, solid and steady. I swing it up and over, slamming it down onto the guard's head with a hollow clang.

He lets out a startled grunt, his legs buckling as he stumbles backward. Emilia releases him instantly and ducks away.

I push forward, slamming the bucket-covered head against the rough stone wall with my full weight behind it.

The man crumples like paper, his body sliding down the wall in a heap. The bucket topples off, rolling away and clanking along the stone floor.

I stand over him, my chest heaving from the adrenaline rush, my hands flexing at my sides. The sound of my own heartbeat drums in my ears.

Emilia reacts first. She scrambles to her knees, hands darting to the utility belt at the man’s waist. “The keys—got them!” she hisses.

I grab the gun strapped at his side. My hands shake for only half a second before instinct kicks in. Cold steel. Familiar in a way that makes my stomach turn.

We lock eyes.

“Now,” I whisper sharply.

We lunge for the door.

I turn in time to see the guard surging back to his feet. His face is twisted in rage, one eye swollen, blood dripping from his nose. He lunges for the door just as Emilia swings it toward him, and his arm wedges itself between the door and the frame.

He grips the edge of the doorframe with his full weight, grunting, trying to force it back open.

I throw my weight against the door, but he’s strong; desperation makes him stronger. His knuckles turn white as he strains, shoving the door back open inch by inch.

Emilia screams. “Shut it! Shut it now!”

I lean harder, slamming my shoulder into the door. The edge of it cuts into my collarbone, metal biting into my skin. My legs tremble as I brace my boots against the floor for more leverage.

The man’s other hand shoots up and claws at the edge, trying to pull the door wider, his fingers grappling, scraping, and slipping against the metal. His face is wild now—red, veins bulging on his neck.

“Get off—get off!” I shout through clenched teeth.

Emilia plants both her feet against the wall and pushes with everything she’s got, her face twisted, breath coming out in sharp gasps.

The door groans and creaks as it wavers between us, like a scale tipping back and forth.

Then Emilia shifts her foot and kicks his trapped hand with her heel, smashing his fingers between door and frame. The man howls, recoiling instinctively.

His grip falters just long enough.

“Now!” I shout.

With a final, violent shove, we slam the door shut fully. The metal clangs loudly as it locks into place, echoing down the narrow hallway. Emilia twists the key fast—click—locking him in.

A heavy, muffled thud hits the door behind us. The man is pounding against it now, but we don't give him a chance.

“Run!” I grab Emilia’s wrist.

We take off, sprinting into the darkness of the open air. The air smells of mildew and concrete. My lungs burn, my heart rattling in my chest.

Ahead of us, another figure rounds the corner—a guard.

No time to think. My instincts take over.

I raise the gun.

One shot.

The blast cracks through the air like lightning.

He drops before he even knows what hit him.

The echo of the gunfire rings in my ears, my hands vibrating from the force of the recoil.

Emilia stares, wide-eyed. Then her head jerks back as distant shouts rise behind us. The reinforcements have heard.

“They’re coming!” she whispers, her voice sharp and thin.

She points at the bushes, and I understand.

I grab the dead man’s legs and drag him to the bushes in the darkness.

My arms strain under his weight as I wedge him between myself and the corner, using his bulk to shield my body from view.

His blood stains my shirt, warm against my skin.

My breath comes shallow, but I’m careful not to make a sound.

The footsteps echo louder. Flashlights slash across the corridor walls like searching knives. Then I hear them. Two guards.

A third voice joins in. “Where the hell did the shot come from?”

Then Emilia steps forward, right on cue, her voice shaking just enough to sell it.

“I—I was bringing food like Monte said. I heard the shot—it came from that direction.” She points sharply down the opposite end of the hallway.

Her voice wobbles like she’s terrified, and honestly, she’s not even pretending at this point.

The beam of their flashlight moves away from me. One of the guards squints at Emilia. “Ma’am, you shouldn’t be out here. Get back inside.”

“Yes.” She nods quickly, curling her arms around herself as if trying to ward off invisible cold. “I will. Of course.”

They don’t suspect her. Of course they don’t. To them, she’s Monte’s little pet—harmless.

“Let’s move,” one of them orders, and they all rush down the hall, their heavy boots pounding the concrete floor as they disappear into the distance.

I don’t waste a second.

The moment their footsteps fade, Emilia whips around and rushes back toward me, breathless, eyes wide. “Come on!” she whispers hoarsely, yanking at my arm.

I crawl out from behind the body, feeling the stiff stickiness of blood clinging to my skin and clothes.

“Wait.” I crouch beside the dead guard and fumble at his belt. My fingers find it—the second gun.

I pull it free and check the chamber. Full. Loaded.

She looks around nervously, her head snapping toward every sound like a hunted animal. “I know a way out. There’s a fence not far from here—it’s lower than the outer wall.”

I nod sharply, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Lead the way.”

We move fast, staying low. My knees scrape against the cold concrete as we dart around corners, hugging the shadows. Every light that flickers sends a spike of fear through my chest, but we don’t stop. We can’t.

After several tense minutes, we reach a narrow service corridor that leads to the back of the compound. The stench of damp mold fills my nostrils.

“There!” Emilia whispers, pointing ahead.

I follow her gaze to see it: a low metal fence, no more than seven feet tall, the coils of razor wire barely intact. It’s still a barrier, but compared to the towering outer wall, it’s a godsend.

I sprint toward it without hesitation. My hands grab the cold metal bars, and I haul myself up.

My boots scrape against the steel as I climb quickly, my breath tight in my chest. When I reach the top, I swing my legs over, careful not to catch the wire.

My palms sting from the friction, but I don’t care.

I drop down on the other side, landing with a soft thud. My knees buckle slightly, but I steady myself. My heart pounds, adrenaline keeping me sharp.

“Come on, Em!” I whisper sharply. “You’ve got this!”

She stands frozen, staring up at the fence like it’s ten stories high. “I—I don’t know if I can.”

“You can.” My voice is fierce now, unwavering. “I’m not leaving you here.”

Emilia swallows hard. Her hands tremble as she grabs the bars.

“That’s it,” I coax her. “Feet in the gaps. Pull yourself up.”

She grits her teeth, climbing slowly, her limbs shaking but determined. Inch by inch, she makes her way toward me, pale and breathless.

“Emilia, keep going!” I hiss. My voice cuts through the darkness, sharp as the pounding in my chest.

Her foot slips on the cold metal bar. “Shit!” she whimpers, her hands clutching the fence tighter. The thin wire cuts into her palms, and she freezes halfway up.

“I can’t—” she gasps. Her breathing’s ragged, panic rising fast.

“You can. You’re almost there.” My voice stays calm, but my stomach twists. I step closer, reaching my arms up. “Look at me. Don’t look down, don’t think, just climb.”

She glances at me, her face streaked with sweat, hair sticking to her damp skin. Her bottom lip trembles. “You better catch me if I fall.”

“I will.” I plant my feet steady on the ground, ready to grab her if she slips.

Her foot finds another foothold. Then another. I watch her knuckles turn white as she pulls herself higher. She grits her teeth and scrapes her knees against the rough steel, panting, muttering curses under her breath.

“There! One more pull. You’ve got it.”

With one final groan, she hauls herself to the top, straddling the fence, swaying slightly. The metal creaks beneath her weight.

“Now swing your leg over—careful of the wire,” I coach.

She nods quickly, wiping tears from her face with a shaky hand. She swings her leg with a grunt, clears the wire, and straddles the top.

“Okay. I’m gonna jump.”

“Do it.”

She pushes off, landing hard on the ground beside me with a thud. Her knees buckle, but I catch her under the arm before she falls.

“I knew you could do it.” My voice comes out in a breathless laugh.

Emilia exhales shakily, leaning against me. “We’re alive.”

“Not for long if we don’t move.”