Every step feels heavier.
Slower.
Time bleeding out around us second by second.
“Clay,” Lucas crackles through comms. “Status?”
“Moving.”
“You sound terrible.”
“Appreciate the support.”
A shadow appears at the far end of the hallway.
I fire immediately.
The hostile drops hard against the wall.
But more movement flickers behind him.
Always more.
I grit my teeth and keep pushing forward.
“Hold on,” I mutter.
To them.
To myself.
To everyone trying to survive this nightmare.
Because right now, that’s all we’ve got left.
36
Russ
The light above surgery turns yellow.
For one disoriented second, I just stare at it.
Then movement explodes behind the glass.
Doctors rushing.
Voices rising.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Cold dread crashes straight through me.
“That’s not good,” Miles mutters quietly.
No.
