The countdown hits one minute. Perfect. Landon will rush blindly toward Sadie, leaving our actual target—Keira—easier prey.
The sixty-second mark hits, and a buzzer echoes through the control room. Doors unlock simultaneously across the compound. The Hunt begins.
I exchange a look with Cyrus, our silent communication perfected over years. We position ourselves strategically at the front of the group, knowing Landon will be watching us.
“On your mark,” I murmur to Cyrus, who’s barely containing his excitement.
The doors slide open, and adrenaline spikes.
“Let’s make it convincing,” Cyrus says, loud enough for Landon to hear. “I want to see if the hacker runs as fast as she codes.”
I nod slightly, noting Landon’s posture stiffening further. His fingers curl into fists at his sides. Perfect.
We burst forward with the other hunters, a coordinated pack splitting into individual predators. Landon charges ahead, moving with uncharacteristic urgency toward the eastern sector—where the monitors showed Sadie heading.
I sprint slightly to his left, Cyrus to his right. The calculated positioning makes it appear we’re flanking him to reach Sadie first. Landon accelerates, his usually composed demeanor replaced by something primal.
“He’s taking the bait,” Cyrus says through our private comms.
We maintain pursuit for two hundred meters, just long enough for Landon to believe his competition is real. He doesn’t hesitate, veering left. We follow for thirty more seconds before I tap my earpiece twice—our signal.
“Now,” I command.
We pivot simultaneously, breaking right. Our true hunt begins.
“Think she’ll fight?” Cyrus asks, voice rich with anticipation.
“She’s too smart for that. She’ll negotiate.”
“Did you see his face?” Cyrus chuckles as we move at a measured pace, taking the route I memorized leading to Keira’s position.
“Transparent. Emotional,” I reply. “Let him have the hacker.”
We move in unison through the labyrinth, our footsteps perfectly synchronized from years of hunting together.
The industrial maze of Purgatory stretches before us like a metallic labyrinth—concrete walls rising fifteen feet high, steel beams crisscrossing overhead, creating shadows that dance across our path. The club’s regular activities continue at the front, but back here, we’re in another world entirely.
“Left,” I murmur to Cyrus without looking at him. I don’t need to. His body shifts in perfect synchronicity with mine, a mirror image trained since childhood.
We pause at a junction where pipes form a lattice above us. I tilt my head, listening. I notice heavy breathing nearby. Keira.
“She’s close,” Cyrus whispers, leaning in unnecessarily close. Anyone else would find our proximity disturbing—the way his fingers brush mine, how our shoulders press together as we calculate our next move. But this is how we’ve always been. Two halves of one predator.
Cyrus’s hand slides to the back of my neck, a familiar gesture that grounds us both. “Should we split up, box her in?”
I shake my head, feeling his fingers tighten slightly at my refusal. “No. We hunt together.”
A metallic clang echoes through the maze.
“She’s playing with us,” Cyrus eyes flash sadistically. “I like her already.”
I reach out to adjust his mask, which has shifted slightly. “Remember, brother—we need to make this last.”
I watch Cyrus’s eyes track the direction of the sound. His pupils dilate with excitement, a familiar wildness replacing his usual controlled demeanor. After years of hunting together, I recognize the shift immediately—my brother is slipping his leash.
“She’s running scared,” he whispers, voice husky with anticipation. “Can almost smell her fear from here.”
I nod, predicting Keira’s movements through the maze. Based on the layout of Purgatory, she’s making obvious choices—exactly what prey does under duress.
