Gunfire and Shadows

Darkness swallowed everything.

The bulb fizzled out with a hiss, leaving only the sound of rain dripping through cracks in the ceiling. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.

“Vale,” the voice called again, closer this time. “Come out, and maybe I’ll let the girl live.”

Girl. That was me. Great.

I tried not to breathe too loud. The man—Vale, apparently—moved in front of me, silent, weapon raised. He wasn’t panicking. Not like I was. He was… steady, like he’d done this before.

He crouched beside me and whispered, “Stay low.”

“I can’t see anything.”

“You don’t need to. Just listen.”

My fingers clenched around the envelope I was still holding. The footsteps outside grew heavier, slower, like whoever was there was taking their time. Enjoying it.

I whispered, “Who is that?”

He didn’t answer, only motioned toward the far corner of the room. I started crawling toward it, careful not to make a sound. The floor creaked anyway, betraying me.

The door swung open.

Gunfire erupted—loud, sharp, too close. I ducked behind a filing cabinet as bullets tore through the air. Metal shrieked, sparks flew. I clamped my hands over my ears.

Vale fired back, his movements precise, controlled. The smell of gunpowder filled the room. Someone screamed. Then silence again.

I peeked over the cabinet. A body lay near the door—black jacket, mask covering his face. He wasn’t moving.

Vale grabbed my wrist. “We need to go.”

“What—what just happened?”

“Later.”

He pulled me through a side door into a narrow hallway that smelled like rust and rain. My legs felt like jelly, but fear was stronger.

Outside, the storm hadn’t let up. Rain hammered down as we ran through the alley, puddles splashing under our shoes. I could barely keep up with him.

“Who was that?” I shouted over the rain.

“Division agent.”

“What division?”

“The kind that kills people for asking questions.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Just my kind of luck.”

He gave me a sideways look—almost a smirk. Almost. Then his expression hardened again as a black SUV screeched around the corner ahead.

“Run the other way,” he said.

I spun around, following him down another alley. My lungs burned, hair plastered to my face. The city was a maze of wet brick and neon reflections.

We crossed an empty street, and another gunshot cracked behind us. I yelped, diving for cover behind a dumpster.

“Keep moving!” he ordered, grabbing my hand again.

“You keep saying that!”

“It’s kept you alive so far.”

He wasn’t wrong.

We ducked through another building’s side door—an old laundry shop, judging by the smell of detergent and dust. He shoved a metal rack aside, revealing a back exit.

“How do you even know where you’re going?” I panted.

“I don’t.”

“Comforting.”

He pushed open the door, scanned the street, then turned back to me. “You still have the envelope?”

I held it up. “Yeah.”

“Good. Don’t lose it.”

“What’s in it?”

He hesitated, then said, “The reason they won’t stop coming.”

“Okay, that’s… extremely vague.”

He started walking, fast. I hurried after him.

We turned a corner, and I almost slammed into him when he stopped suddenly. Another car blocked the road—same black SUVs, same tinted windows.

“Back,” he said quietly. “Go back.”

Before we could, headlights flared behind us. Another vehicle.

“We’re trapped,” I whispered.

He looked around, scanning every angle like a soldier on autopilot. Then he spotted a fire escape ladder. “Up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Move, Clara.”

He boosted me up first. I grabbed the ladder, feet slipping on the wet rungs as I climbed. He followed right behind. Below, doors opened, boots hit the pavement, voices shouted orders.

By the time we reached the rooftop, my legs were shaking. Wind whipped my hair, rain soaked through my clothes, and my breath came out in clouds.

“Now what?” I gasped.

He crouched near the edge, scanning the rooftops ahead. “Jump.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Onto that one.” He pointed to the next building, barely a few feet away.

“That’s not a few feet! That’s a death wish!”

He looked at me. “Trust me.”

“I barely know your name!”

He almost smiled. “It’s Lucien.”

“That doesn’t make this better!”

He grabbed my hand before I could argue and jumped first, pulling me with him. For a second, all I saw was the blur of city lights below—and then we landed hard on the next roof, rolling. My knee scraped, but I was alive.

Lucien helped me up. “See? Not so bad.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

We kept running, jumping from one rooftop to another. The city stretched endlessly below us—streets glowing gold and red, sirens wailing somewhere far away.

When we finally stopped, we were both drenched, breathing hard. Lucien crouched behind a water tank, checking his weapon.

“Why are they after you?” I asked, still catching my breath.

He didn’t look at me. “Not me. Us.”

I blinked. “Us?”

“You took something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“You mean your suitcase?”

He shook his head. “No. The data inside it.”

“What data?”

“Everything that could destroy them.”

“And you’re what—some kind of spy?”

He didn’t answer. Just gave me that unreadable look again.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating his face for a split second. The cold, the danger—it all melted into this strange, heavy silence between us.

I wanted to ask more, but he suddenly tensed. His eyes darted toward the edge of the roof.

“They found us.”

Before I could react, bullets tore through the rain, hitting the metal tank behind us. I screamed, ducking. Lucien grabbed me, pulling me down.

“Stay down,” he said, returning fire.

I crawled behind a vent, heart hammering. My hands shook so hard I could barely keep them still.

“What do we do?”

“Move when I say. And don’t drop that envelope.”

A bullet ricocheted off the metal near my head. I flinched. He fired again, three sharp shots. Someone fell.

Then, silence.

Lucien stood, scanning the other side. “We have to go before more come.”

I stood too fast, dizzy from fear. “Where? There’s nowhere to—”

He grabbed my shoulders, eyes locking on mine. “Clara, listen to me. They don’t stop. Ever. But if you stay with me, I can keep you alive.”

“Why?” I whispered. “Why would you even care?”

His gaze softened for the first time. “Because you’re the only one who doesn’t know how dangerous you really are.”

I stared at him, words caught in my throat. “What does that even mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked past me—and I saw it too late.

A red laser dot appeared on his chest.

“Lucien—”

The gunshot cut me off.

He stumbled back, the sound echoing through the rain.

“Run!” he shouted, voice raw.

I froze for half a second, then turned and ran again—into the storm, clutching the envelope like it was the only thing keeping me alive.

Behind me, another shot rang out.

And then—nothing.