Page 25

TRAZ

T he second the hatch slams behind us, I know something's wrong.

Kelli's not with us.

I whip around, hand flying for the latch—only to find it twisted, fused shut from the blast.

"Dammit!" I snarl, slamming my fist into the rusted metal.

Joren whimpers, clinging to my jacket.

Aria sobs, pressing her face into my chest.

"She's smart," Silpha rasps behind me, panting hard. "She’ll find her way."

I grit my teeth so hard my jaw pops.

"She isn’t supposed to be alone," I growl.

"No one’s supposed to be anything anymore," Silpha snaps. "Move or die, Traz."

The air outside's alive with shouting.

Blasters charging.

Footsteps pounding closer.

I hoist Aria higher, shifting my stance.

The twins come first.

No matter what.

No matter what it costs.

We run.

The maintenance tunnel stinks of burnt metal and rotting water.

Lights flicker overhead, buzzing like angry wasps.

Joren stumbles.

I catch his hand, dragging him faster.

Silpha leads, weaving through the maze like she was born in it.

A door slams open ahead.

Three thugs pour into the tunnel.

Petru’s colors painted sloppy across their chests.

Blasters up.

Smirking like they already won.

"Give us the brats," the biggest one sneers. "And maybe we let you crawl away."

My fingers twitch against the trigger.

"You got one chance," I snarl, voice low and sharp enough to cut. "Turn around. Walk away."

They laugh.

Wrong move.

I set Aria down behind me, shoving Joren close to her.

"Stay," I bark.

Their wide, terrified eyes lock on me.

I turn.

And unleash hell.

The first thug charges, sloppy and overeager.

I sidestep, grab his wrist, and drive my knee into his gut.

Bone cracks.

He folds with a wet grunt.

The second fires wild.

I duck low, roll forward, and come up swinging.

My fist catches him across the jaw—hard enough to send teeth flying.

He drops, whimpering.

The third backs up, fumbling his blaster.

Fear flashing across his face.

Good.

He should be afraid.

I close the distance in two strides.

Rip the weapon from his hands.

Jam it into his gut.

Fire.

One shot.

Clean.

He crumples without a sound.

Silence falls.

Except for the buzz of the broken lights.

Except for the ragged breathing of two little kids watching their father rip men apart to keep them alive.

I turn, slow.

Kneel down.

Aria’s crying silent tears, her small fists balled up tight.

Joren looks like he’s trying not to breathe, not to move, not to exist .

My heart shatters clean in half.

I wipe my bloody hands on my jacket.

Crouch lower.

"Listen to me," I rasp, voice thick. "You aren’t bad because you saw bad things."

Joren blinks up at me, tears brimming.

"You’re strong," I whisper, tapping his chest. "Both of you. Stronger than anything chasing us."

Aria sniffs.

Joren nods, trembling.

I scoop them both up.

Their little bodies clinging tight to me like vines.

"I got you," I mutter into their hair. "Always."

We don’t linger.

Can’t.

Silpha’s already moving, checking weapons, scanning exits.

"More’ll be coming," she growls. "They heard the shots."

I sling Joren over my shoulder.

Grab Aria with my free arm.

Double the weight.

Triple the need to fight harder.

Move faster.

Kill cleaner.

We sprint through the tunnels.

My boots pound the cracked floors.

My lungs burn.

But none of it matters.

Only them.

Only getting them out.

A second ambush waits near the sector junction.

This one’s smarter.

A barricade.

Five thugs.

Two with blasters already trained on us.

Silpha curses under her breath.

"No way through," she mutters.

I set the kids down again.

Tuck them behind a fallen crate.

"You stay," I say again, dead serious. "No matter what you hear."

Their faces are pale.

But they nod.

My brave little warriors.

I stand tall.

Blaster raised.

Walk out slow.

Let them see me.

Let them think I’m stupid enough to play fair.

The leader smirks.

"There’s nowhere left to run, ghost."

I smile.

Mean and sharp.

"I wasn’t planning to run."

He doesn't even have time to shout before I fire.

Two shots.

Precise.

The first drops the idiot closest to the kids.

The second ricochets off the wall, catching another square in the throat.

Chaos erupts.

They return fire, panicked.

I dive behind a broken pillar, firing back in tight bursts.

Silpha’s already moving, slicing through the side, her knife flashing in the broken light.

One thug screams.

Falls.

Another charges her—she drops him with a savage jab to the gut.

The leader tries to flee.

Big mistake.

I sprint after him, tackle him into the wall.

Drive my knee into his chest.

Hard.

Over and over.

Until he stops moving.

Until the city’s screams drown out his.

I stagger back to the crate.

The kids are there.

Waiting.

Joren’s eyes are wide and unblinking.

Aria’s hand shakes when she reaches for me.

I drop to my knees.

Gather them both into my arms.

Hold them so tight my arms ache.

"I’m sorry you saw that," I whisper into their hair.

"But I’m never sorry I fought for you."

Never.

Not for a second.

We cut through a collapsed fence, bursting into a narrow back lot filled with burned-out hover bikes and shattered glass.

And there, staggering across the rubble, blood streaked down one arm, face pale but fierce, is Kelli.

Alive.

Fighting.

Gods, my chest cracks wide open at the sight of her.

She sees me.

Sees the kids.

And she runs.

Doesn’t hesitate.

Doesn’t look back.

Just runs.

I meet her halfway, dropping to my knees in the wreckage.

She collapses into me, arms thrown around my neck, sobbing, shaking.

I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in like a dying man starves for air.

"I thought—" she chokes out.

"I know," I rasp, my voice breaking. "I know, baby."

Aria squirms between us, reaching for her mama with tiny hands.

Joren presses close, burying his face against her side.

Kelli pulls them both into the circle of her arms, cradling them like they’re the last precious things in a dying world.

Which they are.

Which they always were.

We stay there, huddled in the wreckage, the four of us clinging like the universe is trying to tear us apart and we refuse to let go.

Kelli pulls back just enough to look at me.

Tears shine on her dirty cheeks, but her smile.

Gods, her smile.

It’s pure steel and sunlight.

"You came for me," she whispers.

I brush the hair from her face, rough and shaking.

"I’ll always come for you," I say.

"And next time?"

Her voice wobbles.

"There won’t be a next time," I growl, pressing my forehead to hers. "I’m not losing you again."

Not to Petru.

Not to fate.

Never.

Around us, the city howls and shudders.

Hunters still out there.

Blood still in the air.

But in this broken moment.

In this breath, we’re whole.

And gods help anyone who tries to take that from us now.