Prey

Samantha's mind swam through a thick fog of sleep. Something was wrong. Her body felt weightless, yet a nagging sense of urgency tugged at her consciousness. She fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, struggling to wake.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. The world was a blur of motion. Wind whipped her hair, and she realized with a jolt that she was moving – fast. But how?

As her vision cleared, Samantha found herself cradled in Marcus's arms. His face was a mask of determination as he sprinted through unfamiliar streets. The sun blazed overhead, its rays piercing through gaps in the buildings. Each beam that touched her skin felt like a white-hot brand.

"Marcus?" she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's happening?"

His eyes flickered down to meet hers, relief evident in his expression. "You're awake. Good. We need to move. The safe house is compromised."