Page 24

KELLI

T he city breathes down my neck.

Hot.

Thick.

Smothering.

Every step we take, it feels like the walls close tighter.

Traz leads us through the ruins of Glimner like a man who knows he’s walking straight into hell.

Aria’s pressed against his chest, her little body bundled tight in his jacket.

Joren clings to my side, hand clenched in mine so hard his knuckles turn white.

Silpha trails us, quick and twitchy, eyes slicing the shadows.

We don’t speak.

Words would just get us killed faster.

We move.

Fast.

Quiet.

Praying to whatever gods still bother listening to broken souls like us.

The neon smears the street in sick colors—blood reds, toxic greens, drowning blues.

Garbage piles steam in the gutters.

Old hovercar husks loom like rusted-out monsters.

Traz lifts two fingers—pause.

We press back into the broken frame of a building.

I cradle Joren tighter.

My heart pounds so loud I’m sure it’s echoing off the walls.

A gang patrol slinks by, heavy boots stomping.

Their blasters gleam wet under the flickering signs.

One of them spits in our direction, missing us by a hair.

We hold our breath.

Frozen.

Waiting.

They move on.

Traz glances back at me.

I nod.

I'm good.

I'm ready.

We slip out and run.

Silpha guides us through a rat maze of alleys.

Twisting.

Turning.

Ducking under hanging wires and collapsed scaffoldings.

We climb over a burnt-out market stall, shards of melted plastic crunching under our boots.

Traz boosts me up first, Joren dangling from my arms as I scramble to the other side.

I reach down for Aria next.

She whimpers.

Traz hushes her with a low growl in her ear.

She presses her little face into his shoulder and doesn’t make another sound.

Good girl.

We move.

Half a block later, we hit a crowd.

Scavengers.

Dealers.

Eyes gleaming like rats in the half-light.

They part for us, sensing danger.

Sensing death on our heels.

Traz keeps one hand on his blaster, the other on Aria.

I shield Joren with my body.

Silpha mutters a curse and yanks us down a side street slick with oil.

Every footstep feels like it echoes to the rooftops.

Traz glances back again.

His jaw’s tight.

Worse than tight.

Like he’s bracing for the inevitable.

And gods help me, I feel it too.

The city isn’t just breathing.

It’s hunting.

A few blocks later, Silpha calls a halt.

We duck into the wreckage of an old hover depot.

Rust stains the floors.

Broken shells of speeders sit in twisted heaps.

Traz draws us into the darkest corner.

"Five minutes," he mutters.

"Five minutes isn’t much," Silpha snaps, pacing like a caged cat.

"It’s what we got," Traz growls back.

Kelli sinks down, pulling Joren into her lap.

I glance at the kids.

Aria’s pale but awake, eyes huge.

Joren’s trembling like a leaf.

I wrap my arms around him, pressing kisses into his messy hair.

"You’re safe," I whisper, lying with everything I've got.

"You’re safe, my baby."

A shadow shifts outside.

Traz stiffens.

Silpha swears under her breath.

"They’re here," Traz mutters.

"We run?" I ask.

He hesitates—just a second.

Then nods.

No other choice.

We bolt.

The city explodes around us.

Voices shout.

Lights sweep the ruins.

Blasters crack the air, throwing sparks and smoke.

Traz grabs Aria tighter and barrels through a pile of old crates.

I chase after him, Joren clutched tight against my side.

We dodge between heaps of rusted metal, dive under dangling signs, slip past drunken brawlers too wrecked to care.

Every step feels heavier.

Every breath harder.

Traz cuts left into a maze of narrow alleys.

I follow blindly.

The walls press close, reeking of piss and garbage.

A gang banger leaps out ahead—gun raised.

Traz doesn't hesitate.

One shot.

Clean.

The man drops like a puppet with its strings cut.

We keep moving.

Silpha breaks ahead, waving us on.

"This way!"

The alley spits us into another dead street.

I see it before Traz does.

More thugs.

Blocking the road ahead.

Laughing.

Waiting.

"We cut right!" Traz shouts.

He yanks Aria closer, shifting direction hard.

Joren sobs once against my neck, terrified but quiet.

Good boy.

I pivot after Traz.

Then blaster fire sears the wall next to my head.

The explosion of debris knocks me sideways.

I stumble.

Cough.

Choke on smoke and fear.

"Traz!" I scream.

But he’s already ahead, diving with the kids through a broken maintenance hatch.

Silpha’s right behind him.

I lunge after them.

But another blast shatters the ground between us.

A piece of metal whips across my arm, tearing fabric and skin.

I cry out, stumbling back.

The hatch clangs shut.

They're gone.

Traz.

Aria.

Joren.

Gone.

The street around me howls.

More shouting.

More shots.

I shove up off the cracked pavement, blood running down my arm.

No time to cry.

No time to scream.

I bolt into the night, heart hammering like a war drum.

Alone.