We burst onto the main floor.
Rows of rusty machinery and scattered debris stretch out like a maze. The smell of oil and dust clogs my throat.
“There!” Lucia points to the heavy double doors at the far end.
We race toward them. My lungs are burning as I shove at the handle, nothing.
“It’s locked!” I gasp.
Through the tiny slit of glass I see outside into the parking lot. The two guards from earlier lay sprawled out on the pavement, dead. Dominic must have killed them.
“Spread out,” Dominic orders. “They can’t take us down if they don’t know where we are.”
“Run all you want, Farfalla,” Salvatore’s voice booms across the factory. “There’s nowhere to go.”
Giving each other one last look we split up. Each of us sprint down a different aisle and hide in the shadows as our minds race trying to figure out how to defeat them.
I scan the factory as I creep between the crates.
Catwalks, ladders, dark corners are all I see.
There has to be an exit.
There has to be.
The place has become deathly quiet and the silence is worse than gunfire.
No shouting.
No footsteps.
Nothing.
This is a game of cat and mouse and right now we’re being hunted.
The rows of towering machines feel like a labyrinth closing in on me.
My own breathing sounds too loud, each inhale rings in my ears.
I slow my steps and place each foot carefully on the dusty concrete to keep from making a sound.
I pause, straining to listen, but there’s nothing.
A flicker of panic claws at the back of my mind.
There’s no other exit.
Only dead ends and blind corners.
The worst part is not knowing who I’ll run into first.
A scream breaks the eerie silence.
It’s Lucia.
Immediately I break into a run toward the sound.
Rounding the corner of crates, I find myself staring at a brick wall.
