Tim’s pulse thundered. Rachel reached for her gun again. We are so screwed.
Then, a single figure stepped out of the lead SUV. Not one of the silent ones, not like the others. A man, tall, wearing a gray suit, not black.
And when he spoke, it was with a voice that sent ice straight into Tim’s veins. Give me the child. Tim tightened his grip on Annie.
Over my dead body. Tim Watson had stared down murderers. He had walked into rooms with armed men ready to kill him.
He had seen darkness in the world that most people never even imagined. But nothing, nothing felt as wrong as the man standing in front of him now. He was tall and composed, dressed in an immaculate gray suit, his shoes polished, his dark hair neatly combed.
Every detail about him was precise, controlled. There was no hesitation in his posture, no nerves in his expression. This was a man who had never lost.
And now, he was here for Annie. Rachel Monroe stiffened beside Tim, her gun still in her grip, though they both knew it was useless. The black SUVs behind the man in gray were lined up like an impenetrable wall.
And inside them, more of the silent figures waited. The man in gray stepped forward, his hands casually at his sides. Give me the child.
Tim adjusted his hold on Annie. Keeping her tucked against his chest. Over my dead body.
The man sighed, as if Tim was an inconvenience, not a threat. You don’t understand what you’re dealing with, Officer Watson. Tim’s jaw tightened.
Then why don’t you enlighten me? The man in gray tilted his head slightly, as if considering it. His eyes flicked toward Annie. And for the first time, a trace of something unreadable crossed his face.
Not anger. Not amusement. Something close to pity.
She doesn’t belong with you, he said. Rachel took a step forward, her voice cold as steel. Who are you? The man turned his gaze on her, as if truly seeing her for the first time.
Special Agent Monroe, you’ve been quite persistent. Rachel didn’t react, but Tim could feel the tension radiating off her. That didn’t answer my question.
The man’s lips curved slightly. My name is irrelevant, but if it makes you more comfortable, you may call me Mr. Solomon. Tim’s fingers curled into Annie’s hoodie.
And what exactly are you? Solomon’s gaze flicked back to him. I am a man who keeps order. The words settled like lead in the air.
Tim clenched his teeth. What’s inside her? Solomon exhaled slowly, as if weighing how much to tell them. Something that was never meant to leave our hands.
Rachel’s grip on her gun tightened. And what happens when you get it back? Solomon’s smile faded. Tim saw the answer before he spoke.
You kill her. Solomon didn’t deny it. Tim’s pulse roared in his ears.
His hands clenched tighter around Annie, who let out a small whimper, her fingers tangled in his jacket. Rachel’s voice was barely above a whisper. You monsters put something inside a child, and now you want to… Solomon cut her off.
It’s not personal. Tim’s blood boiled. It’s personal to her.
Solomon regarded him for a long moment. Then, in a voice colder than ice, She was never supposed to survive this long. The words sent a violent chill through Tim’s body.
Annie had never been a person to these people. She had been a test, a vessel, a tool. Tim’s breath came sharp and slow.
His entire body burned with rage. You’re not taking her. Solomon’s gaze darkened.
You don’t have a choice. Then, he lifted his hand. And behind him, the SUV doors opened all at once.
The silent ones stepped out. Rachel inhaled sharply. Tim.
We are outnumbered. Tim knew. But he also knew one thing.
He wasn’t letting go of Annie. Not now. Not ever.
So he did the only thing he could. He turned. And ran.
Tim Watson had never run from a fight in his life. But this wasn’t a fight. This was survival.
Annie clung to him, her tiny fingers twisting in his jacket. Her breath hot against his neck as he bolted across the parking lot. Rachel Monroe was right behind him.
Her gun drawn, even though they both knew it was useless against whatever those things were. Behind them, the silent ones moved. They didn’t charge.
They didn’t sprint. They walked. Steady.
Relentless. Unstoppable. Mr. Solomon’s voice carried across the pavement, smooth as ever.
There is nowhere to run, Officer Watson. Tim didn’t look back. They weren’t getting Annie.
Not today. Car! Rachel barked. Pointing toward an idling police cruiser at the edge of the lot.
The officer inside had stepped out. His attention locked on the chaos unfolding near the hospital doors. He hadn’t seen them yet.
It was their only chance. Tim’s legs burned as he pushed himself harder, his pulse roaring in his ears. Annie’s small body was light, but his arms ached from the sheer force of holding her so tightly.
Twenty feet to the car. Fifteen. Ten.
The officer finally turned toward them, his eyes widening. Hey, what’s going on? Rachel didn’t slow down. Out of the car, now! The officer hesitated.
Wait! Rachel didn’t wait. She yanked him aside just as Tim reached the door. He threw it open and shoved Annie into the back seat, then scrambled into the driver’s seat.
Rachel was right behind him, slamming the passenger door shut just as the first silent one reached them. Tim’s hand hit the gear shift. Hold on! The tires screamed against the asphalt as he floored it.
The cruiser lurched forward, barely missing the figures now closing in. Rachel twisted in her seat, looking out the back window. They’re still coming! Tim didn’t need to check.
He could feel it. They don’t stop, he growled, gripping the wheel tight. They just keep coming, Annie whimpered in the back seat.
They always find me, Tim’s heart clenched. He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. Not this time, sweetheart.
He pushed the gas pedal harder. They weren’t running. They were escaping.
But deep down, Tim knew. This wasn’t over. Not even close.
The city blurred past as Tim Watson gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The police cruiser roared down the empty streets, the flashing red and blue lights reflecting off the buildings as he pushed the engine to its limit. Rachel Monroe sat beside him, her breath coming in sharp measured bursts as she checked the side mirrors.
They’re still following. Tim didn’t have to ask. He felt them.
The silent ones didn’t need cars. They didn’t run. They didn’t rush.
But somehow they were always there. Annie huddled in the back seat, her small body curled into the corner, her fingers still clutching the hem of her oversized hoodie. Her tiny chest rose and fell too quickly.
She was panicking. Tim forced his voice to stay calm. We’re gonna be okay, sweetheart.
Annie didn’t look convinced. Rachel turned toward him. We need a plan, Tim.
They’re not gonna stop. He exhaled sharply, scanning the road ahead. We get somewhere they can’t follow.
Rachel scoffed. They walked into a hospital on lockdown. Tim, what exactly do you think they can’t get into? Tim’s jaw clenched.
A place they don’t know, Rachel hesitated. Then, realization dawned in her eyes. You have a safe house.
Tim didn’t confirm or deny it. He just turned the wheel sharply, taking a hard right onto a side street. The police cruiser skidded around the corner, the tires screeching against the pavement before catching traction.
Rachel held onto the dashboard. Tell me it’s close. Fifteen minutes, Rachel swore under her breath.
Tim focused on the road ahead, weaving through the city, taking back streets and alleys that no standard GPS would recommend. He knew these streets better than anyone. But still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were still there.
Rachel checked the mirror again. I don’t see them, but I don’t like it. Tim’s grip on the wheel tightened.
They don’t need to be seen to be close. Rachel exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. I need answers, Tim.
We have a little girl with a government experiment inside her. Men in suits acting like they own the world. And now we’re on the run like fugitives.
What the hell is happening? Tim glanced at Annie in the rearview mirror. We’ll find out when we get to the safe house. Rachel’s lips pressed into a thin line.
She didn’t like waiting. Neither did he, but right now, getting Annie to safety was the only thing that mattered. Tim turned onto a deserted stretch of road, leading toward the outskirts of the city.
The buildings grew farther apart. The streetlights flickered, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. They were almost there.
Then Annie spoke. They’re here. Tim’s breath stalled.
Rachel twisted in her seat. What? Annie’s fingers curled into fists. They found us.
Tim’s stomach dropped. Then, the streetlights all went dark at once. Rachel’s voice was sharp.
Tim? A black SUV appeared behind them, its headlights flashing on out of nowhere. Another one pulled onto the road ahead. Tim’s pulse roared.
They were trapped. And the hunt was just beginning. The police cruiser tore down the dark road, the engine screaming as Tim Watson shoved the gas pedal to the floor.
Gravel and dust kicked up behind them, the wheels barely clinging to the pavement. But it wasn’t enough. The black SUVs, two in front, one behind, moved with a terrifying precision.
No swerving. No hesitation. Just closing in.
Rachel Monroe’s fingers hovered near her gun, her breath sharp. They’re boxing us in. Tim already knew.
His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. Annie sat curled up in the back seat. Her arms wrapped around herself.
She wasn’t crying. She was waiting. She had been through this before.
Tim clenched his jaw. Not this time. Rachel turned toward him.
We need options. Tim’s mind raced. He knew these roads.
These backstreets. These empty stretches of nowhere. He had one move left.
Hold on. He yanked the wheel hard to the right. The police cruiser swerved off the road.
Rachel barely had time to curse before they hit a narrow dirt trail leading into the dense forest. The tires skidded, bouncing over uneven ground, branches scraping the windows like claws. But Tim didn’t slow down.
The SUVs didn’t hesitate either. They followed. Rachel gritted her teeth.
They’re not stopping. Tim’s heart slammed against his ribs. I’m counting on it.
The trees closed in around them. The road twisting, narrowing. The cruiser jolted over deep potholes.
But Tim kept control. The forest swallowed them whole. No streetlights.
No buildings. No way to track them. Except for whatever was inside Annie.
Rachel checked the mirror. They’re still on us. Tim saw it.
The SUVs moved through the trees like sharks through water, barely slowing. Their engines a low, steady hum. They weren’t pursuing.
They were waiting. Tim exhaled sharply. We have to end this.
Rachel’s head snapped toward him. How? Tim didn’t answer. Because up ahead, he saw it.
An old abandoned bridge, barely standing over a dried up riverbed. A structure no sane person would drive over. Tim wasn’t sane right now.
Rachel, seatbelt. Her eyes widened. Tim, no.
But he was already flooring it. The police cruiser lurched forward, tires spitting dirt as they hurtled toward the bridge. Behind them, the SUVs gave chase.
Fifty feet. Forty. Thirty.
Annie let out a small gasp. Twenty. Rachel braced herself.
Ten. The bridge splintered the second they hit it. The cruiser rocketed across, the wooden planks cracking beneath them.
And then, with a deafening crash, the bridge collapsed behind them. Tim slammed the brakes. Dirt and debris shot into the air as the cruiser skidded to a stop.
The dust settled. Silence. Rachel let out a shaky breath.
Holy. Tim turned. On the other side of the now-destroyed bridge, the SUVs had stopped.
Blocked. The silent ones stood beside their vehicles, watching. Rachel exhaled.
That bought us time. Tim’s hand stayed tight on the wheel. Not enough.
Because Mr. Solomon was standing at the front of the group. And he was still smiling. Annie’s voice was barely a whisper.
He said, you can’t run forever. Tim’s grip tightened. Then we stop running.
Tim Watson had spent his life chasing the bad guys. But for the first time, he realized. They weren’t chasing anymore.