Christian pulled her up and into a sprint as Hawk tossed Nadine’s cuffs over the rail—along with a cerulean orb. The stairwell lit up like a flare.
“Let’s move before the light fades, and we’re blind,” Hawk shouted.
Together, the four of them barreled down the steps, the emergency lockdown already overridden and cameras flickering red at every landing.
Hawk shouted something Gemma couldn’t hear, then Nadine fired a three-round burst to cover them from behind. Christian stayed pressed to Gemma’s side, one arm curled protectively around her.
At last, they reached the ground level and sprinted for freedom.
Guards flooded the entryway from the other stairwell exits.
Hawk peeled left, and Nadine dove right as gunfire tore through the air. Christian forced Gemma to the floor behind a toppled support beam. He dropped to the ground next to her, returning fire with clinical precision. Her heart thrashed in her chest.
Bullets volleyed across the foyer, and Hawk yelled, “Stay down!”
Christian covered Gemma’s body with his own as a blast of heat filled the atrium with light as bright as their sun. At the sound of Zion’s soldiers screaming, Christian wrapped his hand around Gemma’s wrist and dragged her into motion.
They sprinted low and fast until a new squad entered from the nearest stairwell, their guns already aimed and firing. Christian skidded to a stop, pushing Gemma behind a crumbled barricade. Hawk shoulder-checked a guard into a pillar, slamming a powerful elbow into the man’s chest and dropping him cold, before hiding behind the pillar himself.
Where was Nadine? Gemma’s heart flopped. What if she was lying in a pool of blood somewhere?
A streak of motion flashed across the atrium’s upper airspace. Gemma looked up to see a sleek, black drone diving through the haze, its high-pitched whine weaving through the smoke left over from Hawk’s bomb. The drone’s frame gleamed obsidian, its wings splayed wide and thrusters flaring.
Suddenly, the drone loosed a scatter of blinding flares before dropping an explosive squarely in the center of theremaining squad of guards. The explosion erupted with white-hot brilliance. Systems soldiers screamed, covering their eyes. Two went down hard, clutching their faces as blood trailed from every orifice.
From behind a shattered wall, Nadine surged forward.Praise Illari. She gunned down one of the stunned soldiers with clean, mechanical efficiency.
“Let’s go!” Nadine shouted as she raced for the exit.
The drone veered low, strafing the atrium with a burst of fire. Smoke bloomed in controlled columns, obscuring the exit just long enough.
Hawk was the next to break from cover, then Christian whipped Gemma off the ground.
Together, they sprinted into the fresh air, where a skimmer waited for them. Its thrusters pulsed low to the ground, its nose angled for a rapid escape. And Imara stood with one foot inside the skimmer while she tapped on a device around her wrist.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Imara snapped.
Gemma’s legs burned. Her lungs ached. But she couldn’t stop.
They reached the skimmer just as Imara dropped another soldier with a tight shot to the neck.
Hawk climbed into the front passenger seat, then Christian shoved Gemma into the back and leapt in after her. Nadine vaulted up and inside, still firing. Imara followed last, sitting in the driver’s seat and slamming the controls with her palm.
“Hold on to something,” she muttered as the skimmer launched.
The acceleration slammed them backward.
Gemma braced against her seat, lungs still raw from sprinting. Her pulse pounded so loudly in her ears; she barely heard the sounds of the wind blowing past them or the static-choked comms blaring over Imara’s dash.
They were on the move. Her friends had come for her.
She was free.
Next to her on the seat, Christian’s breaths were rapid and deep. Sweat glistened across his jaw, and his shirt was stained red at the shoulder. And the way he was looking at her, as if she’d been lost and brought back to life . . .
She opened her mouth to speak, to say thank you. But the words snagged in her throat.
She folded like her strings had been cut, collapsing into him without ceremony or shame. Her forehead met his collarbone, and her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt.
