Chapter 31
Clay
Smoke crawls through the east wing thick enough to taste.
Burned wiring.
Concrete dust.
Blood.
Every breath scrapes going down.
Lucas moves beside me with his rifle raised while emergency lights flash weak red across the corridor.
“Two kids confirmed,” he mutters. “Still missing the rest.”
“Not for long.”
Gunfire cracks somewhere deeper in the compound.
Less coordinated now.
More desperate.
Good.
Means we hit them hard.
Just not hard enough yet.
We reach the infirmary Olivia mentioned.
Steel door.
Keypad lock.
Lucas glances toward me.
I raise my weapon and put two rounds through the control panel.
Sparks burst across the wall.
The lock clicks open.
I shove the door inward.
Two kids jerk backward instantly into the far corner.
Tiny.
Terrified.
Alive.
Relief punches through my chest hard enough to hurt.
“Hey.” I lower my rifle immediately. “Easy. We’re getting you out.”
Neither moves.
Can’t blame them.
Lucas crouches slowly beside me, voice gentler than I’ve ever heard from him.
“We’re not with them. You hear me?”
The little girl shakes her head hard, eyes huge in the dark.
“They said that before.”
That lands ugly.
For half a second, nobody says anything.
Because yeah.
That explains a lot.
“We’re not them,” I say quietly. “Nobody here is gonna hurt you.”
Her gaze drops toward the rifle hanging at my chest.
“You’re soldiers.”
“Yeah.”
“You hurt people.”
Sometimes.
Just not children.
“Not you,” I tell her. “Never you.”
Lucas reaches out carefully. “Can you walk?”
The boy nods immediately.
The girl hesitates longer.
Then finally—
A tiny nod.
“Good,” Lucas says softly. “Stay close.”
I key comms. “Two secured. Moving.”
Static crackles.
Then Miles answers. “Russ got Olivia to medical. She’s critical.”
My jaw tightens automatically.
No time for that right now.
“Copy.”
The little girl grabs onto my sleeve before we move.
Doesn’t let go.
That’s fine.
She can hold on all night if she wants.
We step back into the corridor—
Gunfire explodes instantly.
I shove both kids behind me as rounds hammer into the wall.
Concrete bursts across the hallway.
Lucas returns fire immediately.
Two hostiles go down hard.
A third disappears around the corner.
“MOVE!” Lucas barks.
I grab both kids and run.
The little girl stumbles once.
I scoop her up without slowing.
Then—
A sound cuts through the chaos.
Weak.
Faint.
“…help…”
I stop instantly.
Lucas turns sharply. “Clay!”
“You hear that?”
Silence.
Then again—
“…please…”
Not a child.
Adult voice.
Somewhere deeper down the surgical wing.
Behind reinforced doors.
Lucas hears it too this time.
His expression hardens immediately.
“Hannah,” I say.
Or Stephen.
Maybe both.
“We don’t have time,” Lucas says tightly.
He’s right.
Compound’s falling apart around us.
Enemy reinforcements still moving.
Kids depending on us.
Every second matters.
I look down at the little girl clinging to my shoulder.
Then toward the locked hallway.
“Make time.”
Lucas exhales hard through his nose.
Then nods once.
“Thirty seconds.”
Good enough.
I carefully hand the little girl to him and move toward the reinforced door.
Locked.
Of course.
I fire twice into the hinges.
Kick hard.
The door slams inward.
Cold air rolls out immediately.
Dark room.
Chains rattling softly somewhere inside.
Then I see them.
Dr. Hannah Bowers chained against the far wall.
Stephen Cole beside her.
Bruised.
Bloodied.
Barely conscious.
Alive.
And in the corner—
Three mothers huddled together.
The second they see us, they try to stand.