Page 64 of Rescuing Ember

“Watch your step,” Ember whispers, navigating the debris-strewn ground with practiced ease.

We emerge onto a street lined with shuttered storefronts, their metal grates covered in graffiti. The neon sign of a 24-hour pawn shop casts an eerie blue glow.

Footsteps echo behind us. I spin, catching a glimpse of one pursuer rounding the corner. Without hesitation, I draw my weapon and fire. The shot rings out, deafening in the quiet street. The man drops, clutching his leg.

“This way.” Ember tugs my arm, leading me down a set of stairs into the bowels of the subway.

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead as we race through the deserted station. Our footsteps echo off the tiled walls. A train rumbles in the distance.

“Two more,” I pant, hearing the remaining pursuers clattering down the stairs behind us.

Ember vaults over a turnstile. I follow, my larger frame making the move less graceful. We sprint down the platform past bewildered late-night travelers and jump onto the tracks. Without breaking stride, Ember leads me into darkness.

We run for a few minutes when, in the distance, a train roars toward us. Ember hesitates, then shakes her head.

“Too risky. Up here.”

She leads me up a maintenance ladder, emerging onto the street level. We’re in a different part of the city now; the streets are narrower, and the buildings press in on all sides.

A shout from behind.

They followed us.

How?

I turn, seeing one man gaining ground rapidly. He’s built like a linebacker, all muscle and aggression.

I push Ember ahead. “Keep going. I’ll handle this.”

I sidestep as the man reaches me, using his momentum against me. My knife finds his ribs, sliding between them with practiced precision. He goes down with a gurgle, eyes wide with shock, but dead before he hits the pavement.

I catch up to Ember, who pauses at the entrance of what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

“In here.” She slips through a gap in the rusted doors.

The air is thick with dust and the musty smell of long-abandoned spaces. Moonlight filters through broken windows, casting strange shadows.

“Almost there,” Ember whispers, leading me toward a back corner.

The last pursuer bursts in, gun raised. I react on instinct, diving behind a stack of rotting crates. His shot goes wide, splintering wood near my head.

I peek out, getting a fix on his position. He’s moving cautiously, trying to flank us.

Amateur.

I wait until he passes my hiding spot, then strike. My arm wraps around his throat, cutting off his air. He struggles, but I’ve got leverage on my side. Slowly, his movements weaken. Finally, he goes limp in my arms.

Silence falls, broken only by our heavy breathing.

“Ember?” I call softly.

“Here.” She emerges from the shadows, eyes wide but determined. “You okay?”

I nod, the adrenaline slowly ebbing. “Yeah. You?”

“I’m good.” She glances at the unconscious man at my feet. “What now?”

I take a deep breath, scanning our surroundings. “Find somewhere safe to regroup. Got any more tricks up your sleeve?”