Cain had grown used to the sound of pursuit. It wasn't the footsteps that mattered—those were predictable, human. It was the silences in between. That breathless space where men thought they were hunting but had already become prey. The city amplified those silences, pressing them against his ears until they were louder than gunfire.
Susan leaned heavier against the wall now, her injury worsening with every step. Her stubbornness had kept her upright, but Cain knew her body was beginning to betray her. Hunter walked point again, posture sharp, a shadow moving just ahead of them.
"Steve," Cain said, low.
The comm spat static before a strained reply. "They're rerouting more than squads. This isn't a sweep anymore—it's a cordon. They're shutting down everything east of the river. Transit, power, feeds. You've got a window, but it's closing."
