Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move faster, but I held it in, keeping my pace measured until I reached the door.
The second I crossed it, I ran.
The world dissolved into motion.
The streets blurred past me as instinct took over, guiding me through alleyways I barely registered but somehow knew.
Tight corners. Narrow paths.
I turned left, then right, my body moving on memory and urgency, vaulting over a stack of crates without breaking stride.
Behind me, shouts erupted—too close, closer than I liked.
My lungs burned, my muscles protested, but I didn’t slow down.
A ladder came into view, bolted against the side of a building.
I grabbed it without hesitation and climbed fast, my hands slipping slightly as strain shot through my arms.
Pain flared, sharp and familiar, but I forced myself upward, refusing to stop until I reached the top.
The rooftop gave me seconds. That was all.
I ran across it, the wind hitting my face as I pushed harder, then jumped.
The landing jarred through my body, pain shooting up my legs, but I rolled with it and kept moving, not daring to pause.
They were still behind me.
They never stopped.
I spotted the scooter just ahead—parked, unattended, the key still in place.
Luck didn’t exist in my world, but I took it anyway.
I swung onto it, the engine roaring to life beneath me as I sped off, weaving through traffic with reckless precision, ignoring the blaring horns and shouted curses.
All that mattered was distance.
Space. Escape.
I didn’t stop until the noise began to fade, until the city started to swallow me whole again.
Then I saw them.
Two power bikes, cutting through traffic behind me.
My stomach tightened as I glanced at the mirror and caught sight of the riders—the same two men. Still there. Still coming.
The bike beneath me stuttered slightly, just enough to send a flicker of unease through me. I looked down at the fuel gauge.
Empty.
Running on reserve.
It wouldn’t last much longer.
A sharp breath left me as reality settled in. I wasn’t outrunning them. Not like this.
