Chapter 185

The vast emptiness bore down on him, sharp-edged and unnatural. Not a single voice bounce off the towering structures, only the occasional distant thrum of the drones drifting through the streets. The silence of a dead city suffocated him as much as the bitter thought gnawing at his brain: Jean-Claude had to be here. Somewhere.

He pressed himself flat against a column when he heard heavy boots crunching on loose gravel—a patrol. Jacques peeked from behind the column, careful not to expose himself. Three soldiers in matte-black exosuits stalked down the boulevard ahead, their rifles clutched tightly, helmets glinting under the artificial glow of streetlights. He didn't need to hear them speak to know these weren't amateurs. He held his breath and waited until they turned a corner and disappeared from view before slipping across the abandoned intersection.