The pipe was a bit wobbly and rusty, but that didn’t matter. Worst case, I’d end up with a few bruises if it snapped. I was only climbing down from the second floor anyway. My palms gripped tight, and I slid slowly, keeping my movements controlled so I wouldn’t fall or make noise.

  Looking up, I could see shadows moving frantically across my bedroom walls. They were searching for me. My house only had three rooms. The living room, the bedroom, and the bathroom. It wouldn’t take them long to notice the open balcony door and realize I had slipped away.

  A faint metallic clink reached my ears from above, followed by hurried footsteps. I imagined some of them rushing toward the balcony by now. My chest tightened. Just a little further.

  My feet finally touched the ground. I crouched low, catching my breath. The alleyway stretched before me, not too cramped, but not wide enough to feel safe either. The air smelled of damp brick and rusted metal, a stale silence hanging over it.

  The right side of the alley ended in a dead end after only a short stretch. The left side was the real exit, leading to the front of the streets, my building in front, and the neighboring one pressed close behind it.

  Even though I knew the right side was a dead end, my feet carried me that way. If I kept tight against the wall of my own building, maybe I’d buy myself a few precious seconds before the angle betrayed me. My body brushed the cold brick as I moved quickly but quietly, each step measured.

  Five… six… seven… eight seconds...

  “There he is! He’s running down the alleyway!” a voice screamed from my balcony above.

  My blood froze. They had spotted me.

  "Oh no! I’ve been found... again!"

  Frantically, I yank the gun from my pocket and snap my aim upward. A guard is leaning too far over the balcony ledge, barking down orders, giving away my position. My finger tightens, The recoil jolts up my arm, a sharp, white pain, and the shot rips through his head.

  His body tumbles over the balcony, smacking the ground with a heavy thud. Luck was on my side. The magazines strapped to his belt and his pistol came with him. I don’t hesitate. I strip him of his weapons, my hands moving fast and desperate. Then I bolt for the alley’s exit.

  The gunshot has already shattered the night’s silence. Windows creak open, shutters lift, lights flicker on one by one, cars rumble and screech. The neighborhood is waking up.

  Oh, I’ve reached the exit! I press my back against the wall, leaning just enough to peek around for any guards. Nothing. No one came down. Strange. They could’ve been here already, cornering me, killing me.

  No… no no no. Wait.

  They’re gone?

  The alley is empty. The spot where their jeep should’ve been is bare. The low rumble I heard earlier! It wasn’t just any car! That was the government jeep.

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  They left.

  They left without capturing me. After everything… after I killed one of their own.

  Why?

  I slowly ran up to the front of my door. My chest was tight, my heart warning me something was wrong, screaming not to go inside. Maybe they’re still there. Maybe they’re waiting, waiting for me to walk into their trap.

  I mean… who in their right mind would walk back into their house right after it got raided?

  I asked myself that and got no answer.

  The lock was broken. The door hung open.

  They really left?

  Idiots. That’s the first word that came to mind.

  Still, my steps were nervous as I started to enter—

  And suddenly, my mouth was smothered by a rag. Something rough jammed into me, cloth cutting my breath. I thrashed, panicking. Why? Who?

  Oh. Someone had been hiding. Behind the door.

  He had me from behind, pinning me, choking me.

  But he didn’t finish me off.

  Mistake.

  I tore my gun free and fired blindly behind me, again and again and again, until the trigger clicked empty. My struggling stopped when I heard it.

  Thud.

  The weight dropped behind me.

  I ripped the cloth out of my mouth, gasping. I turned.

  A guard lay sprawled across the floor, chest caved in with bullet holes, heart and everything around it torn apart.

  Dead. The bastard fell because I killed him.

  I shoved the door closed behind me. No lock left to twist, their boots had broken it. Damn guards.

  I started walking towards the bedroom. My maps, my notes, my next steps. They should’ve been waiting there.

  But the second I stepped in, my heart sank.

  Empty. Gone. Every scrap taken.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I muttered under my breath. “I have it all memorized.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing hard, trying to steady myself. The room was a wreck. Papers scattered, closet doors wrenched open, table flipped on its side, carpet cut and messed with. They’d torn the room apart, even though there was nothing worth finding.

  The silence pressed down on me. Too heavy. Too still.

  Then my vision began to smear at the edges. The walls seemed to sway, tilting in slow circles. My head throbbed with a dull, crawling ache.

  “What the…”

  I blinked hard, but the world kept sliding sideways. My tongue felt thick. My body heavy.

  That’s when I realized.

  The rag. The rag in my mouth. It was soaked in something. The rough, fuzzy texture… it wasn’t just cloth. It was a piece of the rug from my own floor. They’d torn it up and drenched it in chemicals. The sweet, toxic taste was still on my tongue, now burning deeper, working its way into my head.

  A trap I’d already been breathing in since the moment I was grabbed.

  I cursed myself as the dizziness consumed me. My fingers slipped from the edge of the bed.

  The room spun. The shadows stretched.

  And then—

  .