Page 103 of Rescuing Rebel

“Let’s move before more guards arrive,” Gabe urges. We form a protective ring around the girls and head toward our exfil point’s drainage tunnels. The Rufi take point and rear, eliminating any resistance.

Floor by floor, we fight down to our rally point. The sound of battle intensifies. Suddenly, the stairwell explodes with gunfire, cutting us off. “No way we’re getting down there,” Gabe yells.

Desperate, I hail CJ, but get only static. “We need alternate exfil, third sublevel.”

“I can direct the Rufi to create a distraction.” Hank has an idea. “It’s risky...”

I don’t like it, but we’re trapped. “Do it.”

At Hank’s command, two Rufi detach and lope into the stairway, sleek metal forms on a suicide mission. Their integrated guns scythe into the ambushers until a massive explosion silences them.

“Move.” We rush the stairs during the chaos. The remaining Rufi carve our escape route. We reach the tunnels just as CJ’s voice crackles through comms.

“The tunnels are collapsing. Get out!”

No time to think. We spin on our heels and sprint back the way we came, dragging the Angels with us.

As the adrenaline fades, my thoughts turn to one person, her fate unknown. Did you escape, Rebel? I cling to the frail hope that she found a way out—that I’ll see her face again someday.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Rebel

The world is comingdown around me, but I barely notice the flaming debris and crumbling walls. All I can think about is the records room in the basement—my last desperate hope of finding Violet.

When Ethan came for me, begging me to escape with him, my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. But I had to refuse. As long as there is the slightest chance a record still exists, I must find it or die trying. Violet deserves that much.

Ethan’s eyes pleaded with me to go with him, but I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

And he couldn’t help me. He has others to save.

I pray he makes it out of here. That he saves the women. I hope he lives to fight another day. The world needs more heroes like him. As for me, I forge ahead alone into the flames and smoke, willing to sacrifice everything for just one scrap of hope.

The air grows choked and acrid the lower I descend into Haven’s bowels. Muted gunfire and unearthly shrieks echo from distant battles. Blood smears the walls where bodies have already been dragged away. The Guardians brought hell with them.

A squad of guards pounds past, decked in full tactical gear. His radio squawks.“All personnel to Sectors 3 and 7 immediately.”They’re so focused on the incursion that they barely glance at me hurrying by.

I overhear them mention a breach in the northwest quadrant. That must be where Ethan’s team broke in. May fortune favor them. They provided the perfect diversion for me.

Reaching the final sublevel, I find the corridors deserted. The records room sits at the end behind an unmarked steel door. Please let something remain intact. I can’t come this close only for everything to turn to ash now.

The heavy door groans on its hinges as I shove inside. My heart sinks. The entire ceiling collapsed, leaving mounds of smoking debris. Cabinets lie crushed and overturned. Acrid dust coats my throat, leaving me coughing.

It’s hopeless. Whatever paper trail existed is buried forever now. I squeeze my eyes shut against bitter tears.

Violet slips further away with each dead end I meet.

But her memory won’t let me walk away that easily.

Climbing over the wreckage, I dig through the piles. The debris cuts my fingers, and smoke stings my eyes, but I keep clawing relentlessly. For Violet, I have to try.

My hands close around a charred file box, its contents still intact. With trembling fingers, I pry off the melted lid and leaf through the files inside, squinting to make out the words. Records, intake forms, status updates—but nothing about Violet. I hurl the useless box away in frustration.

A loud groan shudders through the room as part of the remaining ceiling gives way. I barely throw myself clear as it crashes down, plunging the room into flickering darkness.

I lie there coughing, ears ringing in the sudden silence. Through the noise, a faint buzzing reaches me. One of the industrial lights dangling from the rafters still has power, its bulb blinking erratically.

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