LEENA
The sound rips through the tunnel. Close. Too close.
I jerk against him, breath uneven, body still shaking from everything that just—no—there is no time.
The ground shudders. A deep, grinding vibration that travels through the stone and straight into my spine.
“What—”
I don’t finish because he’s already moving.
His hand leaves me, the heat of it gone as fast as it came, replaced by cold focus. He snaps his head toward the entrance, body shifting between me and the opening without hesitation to protect.
He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t need to. I feel it. I tug my pants up right as there is another impact even closer.
Stone cracks and dust shakes loose from above, fine grit raining down over us. Somewhere deeper in the tunnel, a sharp, splitting sound echoes down the passage like a warning.
“They found us,” I say, forcing the words though my throat doesn’t want to cooperate.
“No.”
The answer is certain. His posture changes. He’s tense, ready, and listening, not dismissing the threat, but understanding something about it I don’t. Another sound cuts through the air. It’s not another impact, it’s movement.
Something scrapes across the rock above us, heavy enough that I feel it through the ground. My heart leaps into my throat.
“That’s not a drone.”
“No.”
This time there’s something else in his voice. Recognition.
Shit.
He reaches for me, not pulling me close, pulling me back, deeper into the tunnel.
“Move.”
I go without argument or hesitation. My legs protest for half a second, then adrenaline slams through me hard enough to override everything—conflicting command and emotion.
We move fast through the narrow curve of the tunnel. The space tightens and twists, forcing us into single file. Behind us comes another crash, even louder, followed by the sound of stone giving way.
“They’re coming in,” I say, breath coming faster and sharper.
“Yes.”
He doesn’t slow or look back. Whatever is behind us, he’s not surprised by it.
“What is it?” I push, keeping pace as best I can. “If it’s not them?—”
He doesn’t answer. The tunnel dips, forcing me to duck, the air tightening, the walls closing in. My skin tingles with nerves as my heart races from both exertion and fear. When he answers after a long pause, it startles me and I jump.
“Hunter.”
The word is so simple and so ominous that it feels worse than anything else he could have said. My stomach drops.
“A hunter?” I echo. “Like… what… like the ones in the desert?—”
“No.”
