As the ragged gang fled into the darkness, Avery's mind was already racing with thoughts. The game had changed once again, but she was done playing by anyone else's rules.
It was time to turn the board.
The following three days passed in a whirl of frenzied planning. Avery rarely slept, propelled by a combination of resolve and fear. They'd lost so much in the attack on their headquarters, but she refused to let it break them.
In the predawn hours of a cool fall morning, Avery stood atop one of Blackthorn's historic towers, viewing the campus below. The air buzzed with tension, as if the very stones of the campus could smell the coming storm.
"It's quiet," Damien mumbled, looming at her side like a shadow.
Avery nodded, her eyes scouring the horizon. "Too quiet."
As if called by her words, a faraway explosion pierced the calm. Avery's heart rushed into her throat as she saw a column of smoke rise from the eastern border of campus.
