Sophia's POV
The forest swallowed me whole. Shadows stretched endlessly in every direction, and the sound of my ragged breathing filled the suffocating silence. My legs burned with every step, but I couldn't stop. Ethan's voice echoed in my head, urging me to run.
Run, Sophia. Don't stop.
The duffel bag was slung over my shoulder, its weight a grim reminder of the burden I now carried. This wasn't just about escaping Langston's men—it was about ensuring these files saw the light of day. Lives depended on it, and so, it seemed, did Ethan's redemption.
The distant hum of engines sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through me. They were close—too close. I veered off the faint path Ethan had pointed out earlier, plunging deeper into the dense underbrush. Branches clawed at my skin, and the ground beneath me was treacherous, but I didn't slow down.
Somewhere behind me, Ethan was facing them. Alone.
The thought made my chest tighten with guilt and anger. I hadn't wanted to leave him, but he'd given me no choice. His life for mine—that's how he'd seen it.
But I wasn't going to let that happen.
I stumbled into a small clearing, gasping for air. The moonlight filtering through the trees cast eerie patterns on the ground, but I didn't have time to admire them. My heart pounded as I pulled the tablet from the bag, powering it on.
The files Ethan had risked everything for needed to be sent to someone—anyone—who could help. But who?
I scrolled through the contacts he'd preloaded, looking for a name that stood out. Most of them were code names or aliases, but one caught my eye: *Kestrel.*
I tapped the name and waited as the tablet initiated a secure connection. Static buzzed faintly, and then a voice came through—a woman's voice, sharp and authoritative.
"Who is this?" she demanded.
"Sophia," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm with Ethan."
There was a pause, and then the voice softened slightly. "Where is he?"
"He stayed behind to hold off Langston's men," I said quickly. "I have the files, but we're being hunted. I need help."
Kestrel didn't hesitate. "Send me your coordinates. I'll dispatch a team to extract you."
Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. The sound of snapping branches behind me made me freeze.
"They're here," I whispered, clutching the tablet tightly.
"Stay on the line," Kestrel said firmly. "Help is on the way."
I ended the call and stuffed the tablet back into the bag, my heart racing. The forest felt alive with movement, shadows shifting and whispering all around me.
Then I saw them.
The first man stepped into the clearing, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. He was tall, muscular, and armed—a predator in every sense of the word.
I crouched low, pressing myself against a tree trunk. My breath was shallow, my mind racing as I tried to come up with a plan. Running wasn't an option—they'd hear me. Fighting? Against armed men? That was suicide.
But I couldn't just sit here and wait to be found.
I reached into the duffel bag, my fingers brushing against something cold and metallic. Ethan must have slipped it in without telling me—a small handgun.
I'd never fired a gun in my life, but I didn't have a choice.
Gripping the weapon tightly, I tried to steady my shaking hands. The man moved closer, his flashlight cutting through the darkness. He was less than ten feet away now.
I took a deep breath, aiming as best as I could.
And then a scream shattered the night.
The man spun around, his attention diverted by the sound. I didn't wait to find out what had happened—I bolted.
My feet pounded against the forest floor as I ran, adrenaline surging through me. The bag bounced against my back, and the gun felt like lead in my hand, but I didn't dare stop.
The scream had come from another direction, but it had bought me time—precious seconds to put more distance between me and my pursuers.
But they weren't giving up.
The beam of a flashlight caught me, and a voice shouted, "There! She's heading east!"
I cursed under my breath, pushing myself harder. My lungs burned, and my vision blurred, but I couldn't afford to slow down.
A gunshot rang out, the sound deafening in the stillness. A tree trunk exploded into splinters beside me, and I stumbled, falling hard onto the ground.
Pain shot through my leg as I scrambled to my feet, limping toward the thickest part of the forest. The men were closing in—I could hear their heavy footsteps and their shouts growing louder.
And then, just as I thought they'd catch me, a figure emerged from the shadows.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn't one of Langston's men—it was a woman.
She was tall and lean, dressed in dark tactical gear that seemed to blend seamlessly with the night. Her face was partially obscured by a mask, but her eyes—sharp and piercing—locked onto mine.
"Kestrel," I whispered, realizing who she must be.
"Stay behind me," she ordered, pulling a sleek, black rifle from her back.
Before I could process what was happening, she opened fire.
The forest erupted into chaos. Langston's men scattered, shouting orders and firing blindly into the darkness. Kestrel moved with the precision of a predator, her shots deliberate and deadly.
I pressed myself against a tree, clutching the duffel bag to my chest. The gunfire was deafening, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air.
When the last shot finally echoed into silence, Kestrel turned to me.
"Let's go," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I nodded, too stunned to speak.
As we moved through the forest, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting more men to appear. But for now, it seemed we were safe.
Kestrel led me to a hidden vehicle—a sleek black SUV parked in a camouflaged alcove. She opened the door and gestured for me to get in.
"What about Ethan?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"He's a survivor," she said, her tone oddly reassuring. "If anyone can get out of this alive, it's him."
I wanted to believe her, but the nagging fear in my chest wouldn't let me.
As the SUV roared to life and sped of
f into the night, I clutched the duffel bag tighter, silently praying that Ethan would make it back to me.