Page 43 of Jump or Fall

Mara

T hick smoke obscured the way, but she moved from memory. Cracks of bullets drowned out the sound of their footsteps.

Clack. Clack.

It reminded her of Karena’s heels on the tile.

By the console table near the stairs, a body sprawled motionless in a slick, dark pool. Blood snaked between the grout lines like crimson tendrils. The widening pool gripped her chest like a vise, dragging her back in time to the memory of Karena’s screams.

Focus.

Since it was a Silver, she attempted to take control of the suit, but it wouldn’t connect.

Low power. Damn it.

Controlling the suits drained so much more power than the other synth-mind functions. If they weren’t careful, they would lose their edge.

With weapons raised, they moved through the entryway, slipping past the large staircase.

A thick ball of smoke rolled into their path.

Gordon kicked it aside, sending it spinning across the floor.

Mara checked her heads-up display and breathed a sigh of relief.

The smoke was non-toxic. The filters in their helmets could handle it, but corrosive smoke could burn exposed skin and weaken their Araflex .

They reached the kitchen. Her pulse kicked up at the sight of the once-immaculate space in ruins. Blood was smeared across the cabinets and shattered glass littered the floor.

Gordon’s voice came through the private channel. “Where’s his office?”

She pointed to the right.

They moved down the hall, stopping at a door half-blown apart. The wood had peeled back, exposing the thick steel core beneath. Holes in the walls showed they were reinforced in the same way.

Mara pressed her remote against the wall, searching for a signal. But she found nothing.

“Any sign of him?” Millon asked.

She moved the remote along the wall. For a brief moment, a suit flickered on the screen once she reached the door jamb. Another pass confirmed it, but the connection was too choppy to go through.

“He’s in his office,” she confirmed. “But I can’t get a connection.”

“Does it have a window?” Gordon asked.

She shook her head. “There’s another way in. We need to go upstairs.”

They had almost made it back to the staircase when two Silvers burst through the shattered remains of the front door and opened fire.

Gordon kicked a table over, using it for cover. Mara aimed her Basilisk and unleashed a barrage of bullets. Her shots cut through their opponents until there was nothing but shattered plates and gore.

“More might come through,” she said.

Gordon pulled a flashbang from his belt and lobbed it toward the doorway. “Close your eyes!”

Even with the helmet’s ear protection, the explosion rattled her skull, leaving her hearing muffled.

The doorway was still.

“Follow behind me,” Gordon said .

He kept his gun trained on the front entrance as they moved. Mara glanced behind them and found nothing. Slowly, they reached the stairs and started climbing with Mara leading.

A shot came from below.

Gordon jerked as a bullet cracked his chestplate.

“No!” she screamed.

He stumbled back, returning fire. The bullets splintered the railing, sending shards of wood flying. His armor had absorbed the impact, but the crack in the plating meant additional hits could be deadly.

They needed to keep moving.

More shots rang out. She grabbed Gordon and pulled him behind the wall before chucking a heavy downstairs. The explosion ripped apart the bottom of the staircase, leaving it broken and nearly unusable.

They hurried down the hallway.

Mara faltered as they passed her old room.

Dread. Nausea. Fear.

Pain.

Disconnect.

No.

Shallow breaths were all she could manage.

This house was fucking suffocating. Even in ruins, her prison was still trying to crush her.

Focus.

She pushed forward.

The hidden office door was exactly the same, tucked behind a tapestry of a foreign mountain landscape. She pushed it aside, revealing the reinforced steel beneath. The keypad glowed dimly in the darkness.

“I don't know the code,” she admitted.

Gordon took out his tablet and an override key. As he worked, distant commotion came from downstairs.

She tapped into the main comms. “Where is everyone? Gordon and I are upstairs, about to enter the office. ”

Silva responded first, his voice tense. “Defending the premises.”

Millon followed. “Kim and I are on the roof, keeping more assholes from gaining access. Enforcers have arrived, but we’ll keep them out.”

Kimmie didn’t respond.

Gordon plugged the override key into the keypad. The screen flashed, and the door opened. A stairwell stretched downward—another fixture of her nightmares.

“Shit,” Millon said. “A few got through—some are heading for the main door, others are going for the garage.”

Mara’s pulse thundered in her ears.

From behind, the thud of boots—the enforcers searching the house. If only they had been able to completely destroy the steps.

“Is the next door locked?” Gordon asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll cover you,” he said reluctantly. “As much as I want to put the bullet between his eyes, you deserve to do it.”

Mara grabbed his hand. “I’m scared.”

He pressed his helmet to hers. “I know. But I know you can do this. We’ll be sleeping under the stars soon.”

She nodded, turning toward the stairs.

The passage was narrow, forcing her to keep her gun aimed upward.

Above, Gordon’s voice came through. “All fine here. Keep your comms open. If something happens, I’ll be there.”

“I will.”

Her heart pounded as she descended. The blood rushed in her ears, drowning out everything else. Sweat slicked her forehead, despite the suit’s cooling system.

Her legs wobbled, the weight of what she was about to do crushing her.

She had imagined killing him so many times—vivid pictures running across her mind and filling her dreams. But standing here, in this house, it was different. The past lived in these walls, whispering, tightening around her throat like a noose.

She faced the door, breath shaky.

With trembling hands, she pulled out the remote and scanned for a suit.

One was available, and it belonged to Dawson.

Her grip tightened as she issued the command: Remove helmet. Remain still.