Page 21 of Property of Booker

“They're here,” I whisper, a wave of relief crashing over me. “Booker’s here.”

Branson rushes up and onto his feet, his exhaustion replaced by a sudden surge of adrenaline. “They're actually doing it.” His hand reaches out for mine in solidarity. We’re in this together and the euphoria strumming through us unites us in a way we haven’t been before.

“I told you,” I say, pressing my free hand against the cold door. “I knew they wouldn't leave us here.” Even though the security system has been disabled, we’ve been stuck here because there are men outside with rifles and guns, we wouldn’t stand a chance going up against them.

The gunfire intensifies, a cacophony of sound that signals our salvation. Each blast feels like a step closer to our freedom. I look at Branson, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimmer of genuine hope in his eyes. We’re finally getting out of here.

The chaos outside reaches a fevered pitch. A dull thud echoes through the hallway, followed immediately by another as a body hits the floor with a sickening crunch. Branson pulls me back, his grip tight on my hand. He knows as well as I do that whoever is on the other side of that door isn’t going down without a fight.

Another scuffle erupts right against the wood. We scramble backward, putting distance between us and the entrance just as a boot slams into the frame. The lock we engaged from our side of it shatters under the force. The door flies open, swinging wide on its hinges with a violent crack of splintering debris.

Booker stands there, his silhouette framed by the hallway light. His chest heaves, and his knuckles are white as he grips his weapon. He scans the room, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that steals the air from my lungs. The world seems to tilt on its axis. He isn’t just looking at me. He’s seeing me. In that brief, charged moment, the distance between us vanishes. He doesn't say a word, but the gritty look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.

“It's over,” he says, his voice rough and low. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he lowers his gun, stepping fully into the room. “You’re safe now. I told you I wouldn’t leave you here to rot.”

I yank my hand free from Branson’s grip and rush to him, flinging myself into his arms. “Kolter?” I ask, my tone breathy.

“He’s safe,” Booker murmurs into my hair, his hands coming up to hold my face. “He’s back at the extraction point. Splicer’s watching him for me."

I let out a ragged breath that turns into a sob. The sheer weight of the last few weeks lifts just enough for me to breathe again. “Is he okay? They didn't hurt him?”

Booker pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his expression softening while he wipes a tear from my cheek. “He’s tough. He’s been through hell but he’s holding up. He kept asking if I was coming for you. I told him I wouldn’t stop until I had you in my arms.”

The overwhelming relief weakens my knees, and I lean into him for support. “Thank you,” I whisper, the words feeling small compared to everything he did.

“Don't thank me yet,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me toward the hallway. “We aren’t clear until we get you both out of here. Stay close in case we missed someone.”

We step into the hallway. The air tastes like iron and burnt dust. It’s too quiet out here, spookily so. Every flickering light makes the shadows dance, and my skin crawls. I keep my eyes glued to the dark corners, expecting trouble.

A silhouette peels away from a doorway ahead. It’s a man that was missed during their raid. He’s clutching a pistol with both hands, his translucent and trembling. He looks terrified. He lets out a guttural sound and fumbles with his safety, his eyes wide and unfocused.

My heart thrashes against my ribs. I want to scream, but no sound comes out.

Booker doesn’t hesitate. He moves like a blur of motion. He lunges, closing the distance in a single stride, and slams his shoulder into the man’s chest. They go down hard. The guard hits the wall with a sickening thud, and his weapon skitters across the concrete. Booker pins him, his movements lethal and precise. A short struggle follows, ending with the guard going limp.

Booker rises, his chest heaving. He looks back at us, his eyes hard and unyielding. “Keep moving,” he commands.

Branson pulls on my arm, dragging me toward the stairwell. I can't shake the tremor in my hands. The hallway feels like a tunnel that will never end, and every sound makes me jump.

“Are you alright?” Branson asks, his voice low.

I nod, though I can barely feel my feet. “Just keep going. Eventually my feet will catch up with the memo.”

We hurry down the stairs, but the fear between us hangs in the air. I know we aren’t clear yet. Every turn feels like a new threat, and the dark corners seem to watch us as we rush toward the exit.

We round the corner near the stairwell door, moving too fast to check our blind spots. A figure lunges out from the shadows of the landing, blocking our path. I let out a sharp cry and stumble back from the sight of the imposing man, my hand flying to my mouth. Branson jerks me behind him, his arm raised like he’s ready to brawl. Booker is faster, his weapon up and aimed at the figure’s chest in a split second.

“Whoa,” the figure says, holding his hands up. It’s me, Shade.” He grins, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Booker lowers his gun, though his shoulders remain tight. “You scared the hell out of us, Shade. Don’t do that again.”

Shade chuckles, stepping aside to reveal the path to the exit. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack. I just wanted to make sure nobody else was lurking down here before you guys came through. The way is clear.”

I lean against the wall, trying to get my heart rate under control. “You have a weird sense of timing,” I mutter, catching my breath.

Shade just shrugs, his gaze flicking to the stairwell door. “Get moving. The bikes are right outside. We need to leave before the rest of Jerome's goons figure out where we are.”

“You heard him,” Booker says, nudging us forward. “Let's go.”