“Stairs are burned. They’re flanking from the lower levels!”
“Service corridor. Cut through laundry. Access the freight lift from the north side.”
We banked hard left, crashing through a set of swinging doors into the white, sterile bowels of the service level. Laundry carts lined the walls. Steam pipes hissed overhead.
We ran.
And then the world ended.
It didn’t go black. It went white.
One second I was sprinting, scanning the corners for threats. The next, a flashbulb exploded inside my skull.
My vision vanished. Just pure, agonizing static. No shapes. No light. Nothing.
I slammed into the wall, my shoulder taking the impact because I couldn’t put my hands out in time. I slid down, gasping, pressing my back against the cold tile.
Blind. I was blind.
“Xavier?”
I couldn’t answer. Terror, primal and suffocating, wrapped around my throat. I couldn’t see the exit. I couldn’t see the enemy. I was a sitting duck in a kill box.
8 seconds.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it would burst.
9 seconds.
“Xavier!” A hand grabbed my vest, shaking me.
10 seconds.
The white began to dissolve. It broke apart like heavy fog, revealing gray shapes. A face.
Hellhound. He was inches from me, his hazel eyes wide and furious.
“Are you back?”
I blinked, the world swimming into focus. The edges were still fuzzy, shimmering with afterimages, but I could see him.
“Yeah. I’m back.”
“That’s twice.” He hauled me to my feet.
“I know.” I checked my weapon. The magazine was seated. The chamber was full. My systems were coming back online, but the crash had been brutal.
I’m not going to make it back to Lyon. I’m going to die in this hallway.
The thought was terrifying, but it wasn’t fear for myself. It was fear for Clare. Who would protect her if I didn’t come back? Who would stand between her and the monsters if I failed?
Get up. Move. You die when the job is done, not before.
“Service elevator!” Havoc was smashing a call button twenty yards down the hall. “Coming up from the basement!”
We sprinted toward him. Behind us, the heavy boots of the pursuit team echoed on the tiles. They were close. Thirty seconds, maybe less.
“When the doors open, we go. No stopping.”
