Kieran crouched low in the flickering light of the hideout, his breathing shallow as he pressed his back against the cracked concrete wall. The room stank of rust, old oil, and fear—though most of that fear belonged to the people around him. Three others huddled in the shadows, fugitives like himself who had stumbled into this half-collapsed garage for refuge. Their eyes darted between the boarded-up windows and the iron door that groaned every time the wind pushed against it.
He didn't have to tell them the truth: the Enforcers were coming. They could feel it too.
Kieran's hands were raw, the skin split and bruised from climbing fences, smashing glass, and pulling himself through crawlspaces to get here. He flexed his fingers, but the sting grounded him. He wasn't dead yet. That meant there was still a chance.
"They'll find us," whispered one of the fugitives—a girl with a scar running across her jaw. She looked no older than him. "They always do."
"Not if we move first," Kieran said quickly, though he wasn't sure he believed his own words. His voice came out steadier than he expected. He could almost hear Maya scolding him for taking reckless chances, for putting himself in danger. But Maya wasn't here. And if he wanted to see her again, he had to make a move.
The girl shook her head. "There's nowhere left to run."
Kieran's jaw tightened. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that they'd figure something out—but then the low hum began. A deep, mechanical vibration that rattled the air like a heartbeat. The Enforcers were close.
The others stiffened. One of them—an older man with ragged clothes—grabbed a metal pipe and held it like a weapon. Kieran forced himself to think. Running blindly hadn't worked before, not against machines trained to track every footstep. They needed more than desperation.
He scanned the hideout. The windows were blocked, the main door exposed. But in the corner, half-buried under rubble, he spotted an old drainage hatch. His pulse quickened.
"Over there," he whispered urgently. "That tunnel might lead us out."
The scarred girl followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing. "Or it might drop us into a dead end."
"Better than waiting here to die."
He didn't wait for permission. Kieran scrambled over the rubble, wrenching at the rusted hatch. His fingers slipped, nails scraping against iron, until finally it groaned and gave way, revealing a dark shaft leading into the underworks. The stench of stagnant water wafted up, but to Kieran it smelled like survival.
The hum outside grew louder. Then came the sound of boots—synchronized, metallic, inhumanly precise.
"They're here," the older man hissed, brandishing his pipe like a sword.
Kieran's heart hammered in his chest. He glanced at the others, their faces pale and stricken. He wanted to tell them to go first, but there was no time.
"Move!" he urged, shoving the hatch wider.
The girl dropped into the darkness without another word, followed by the older man. The last fugitive hesitated, staring at the door as if frozen. A sharp crack split the silence—the first blow against the entrance. The door shuddered on its hinges.
Kieran didn't think. He grabbed the man's arm and yanked him toward the hatch. "Go, damn it!"
The second strike slammed into the door, warping the frame. Red light began to spill through the cracks.
Kieran was the last to drop into the tunnel. He pulled the hatch closed just as the door above gave way with a deafening crash. The sound of Enforcers flooded the room—boots pounding, scanners whining, voices cold and metallic.
He held his breath in the darkness, ankle-deep in foul water, listening to the hunt above.
"Target location compromised," one of the Enforcers intoned. "Initiating pursuit protocols."
Kieran clenched his fists, forcing down the terror that threatened to consume him. He couldn't stop them—not yet. But he could run, and he could survive. For Maya.
He turned to the others, their faces barely visible in the dim glow of leaking pipes and bioluminescent fungi. "This way," he whispered, pointing deeper into the tunnels. "Stay quiet. Stay close."
Every step splashed softly in the water, but the echoes of Enforcers crashing through the building above urged them forward. The underworks stretched endlessly, a labyrinth of decay and shadows. Somewhere in this maze, Kieran knew, was either their salvation—or their grave.