⌐╦ᡁ᠊╾━
It's been three days since I got out.
Three days since I left her behind.
Every second feels like a betrayal.
I found a place, a half-collapsed gas station on the outskirts of Syndicate territory. The roof leaks, moss lines the walls, but it's shelter. I patch my wounds with torn bandages from the first-aid box.
I can't stop thinking about her voice.
The station reminds me of our first hideout from the rain- the way she blinked the water from her doe eyes.
Her screams echo every time I close my eyes.
I check the stolen radio again. Static. Then- voices. Syndicate chatter, sharp bursts of code and orders.
Sector Nine secure. Target contained. Transfer scheduled in six days.
Transfer.
That means she's still alive.
I need a plan.
Day four: I steal clothes from a passing truck stop- black jacket, cap, gloves. Something that hides the bruises and the face they're hunting.
Day five: I watch the trucks from a hill overlooking the Syndicate's perimeter. They move in patterns- morning shift change, night patrol routes, transport vehicles in pairs.
Day six: I find the weak point. The old supply tunnel that runs beneath the compound. Used to smuggle goods in and out before the Syndicate built their compound and took over. It's sealed now, but I know the man who built it.
Gregor.
The contact who betrayed us.
He's still out there. I've seen his name in intercepted messages. If I can find him, I can force him to help me.
The irony- trusting the traitor to save the one person I loved.
Night falls. I sit by the broken window, my mind drifting out.
If I go back too soon, I die before I reach her. If I wait too long- she dies first.
It's now on me to choose whose life I prioritise.
Hers or mine.