The rain had eased, but the air hung heavy with dampness, carrying the earthy scent of the forest. Ethan Drake pushed forward, his dark jacket clinging to his frame as he navigated the muddy trail with ease. Behind him, Clara DeVries muttered under her breath, her boots squelching with each reluctant step.
"Please tell me there's an actual plan here," Clara said, her voice edged with frustration. "Because wandering aimlessly through the woods isn't inspiring confidence."
Ethan glanced back, gray eyes sharp as flint, a faint smirk ghosting across his lips. "Patience. It's not far."
Clara huffed but kept trudging, her arms wrapped tightly around herself against the lingering chill. She hadn't slept much, her mind tangled in fragmented memories and unanswered questions. The man leading her, calm as ever, offered little in the way of reassurance—just cryptic remarks and an unwavering stride.
The trees thinned, revealing the outskirts of a small town. The distant hum of traffic mixed with the faint clatter of a diner's kitchen. Its flickering neon sign proclaimed "Maggie's Diner" in faded red letters. Ethan veered off the trail, heading toward a quiet parking lot.
Clara caught up, narrowing her eyes. "What are you doing? We can't just walk in and grab a burger like nothing's wrong."
"Who said anything about burgers?" Ethan scanned the lot, his gaze settling on a weathered sedan parked near the edge. He pulled a slim tool from his pocket and approached the car without breaking stride.
Realization dawned, and Clara froze. "Oh, come on. You're not seriously—"
"We need wheels," Ethan said, matter-of-fact, as he worked the lock with practiced efficiency. "This gets us back faster."
"You're insane. You know that, right?" Her voice wavered between disbelief and grudging admiration.
The lock clicked open, soft and precise. Ethan slid into the driver's seat, his movements fluid. "They won't expect us to double back. That's why it works." He leaned over and unlocked the passenger side.
Clara hesitated, glancing around the lot like someone might burst out of the shadows. With a muttered curse, she climbed in, closing the door quietly behind her.
Ethan started the engine, the old sedan rumbling to life. He guided it onto the main road with a practiced hand, blending into traffic like a shadow in twilight. Clara shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers worrying at the frayed cuff of her sweater.
"This feels like a bad idea," she murmured.
Ethan's gaze remained fixed ahead, his voice calm. "Good. That means it's working."
The drive passed in tense silence, the rain picking up again in a light drizzle. Clara's eyes darted to every passing car, her breath hitching each time a pair of headlights seemed to linger too long. But Ethan's demeanor never wavered, his focus steady as the road stretched before them.
The sedan slipped into a narrow alley behind a pawn shop. Ethan killed the engine, scanning the dim surroundings with the precision of a predator. Satisfied, he opened his door and motioned for Clara to follow. They entered through an unmarked back door, ascending a creaky staircase to the second floor.
At the top, Ethan punched a code into a keypad, the reinforced steel door unlocking with a soft hiss. He stepped inside, the faint hum of servers and the rhythmic patter of rain greeting them.
Clara lingered in the doorway, her eyes darting over the sparse interior. The room was spartan—bare walls, a worn couch, and a workstation that dominated one corner. Monitors glowed softly, displaying feeds of static alleyways and empty streets.
"Home sweet home, huh?" she muttered, folding her arms.
Ethan ignored her, crossing the room to check the security system. His fingers flew over the keyboard, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, broken only by the hum of electronics and the rain outside.
Finally, he turned, his voice low and firm. "Get some rest. We're safe here—for now."
Clara hesitated, exhaustion pulling at her every movement. She dropped onto the couch, curling up with one arm draped over her face. Sleep wouldn't come easily, but for now, she could close her eyes and pretend the walls weren't closing in.
Ethan stood by the window, his silhouette framed against the rain-slicked glass. His reflection stared back, gray eyes haunted by thoughts he didn't dare voice. Somewhere out there, answers waited. And so did the people hunting them.