Unforgiven

The wind whipped around us as we moved across the empty construction site, the cold air biting at my skin. The sky was darkening, the clouds heavy with the promise of rain, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were walking straight into a storm—one we might not survive.

Zeke led the way, his tablet glowing faintly in the gloom as he mapped out a new path. Apollo stayed close behind me, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of movement. The silence between us was thick, but there was no room for words. Not after everything that had happened.

Lylia's absence was a gaping wound in the group. I kept expecting to turn around and see her walking beside us, her familiar voice cutting through the tension with a sarcastic remark. But she wasn't there. She wouldn't be there again.

And as much as I wanted to hate her for what she'd done, I couldn't. I understood her fear, her desperation. But that didn't make it any easier.

Zeke stopped at the edge of the site, glancing back at us. "There's an old warehouse about a mile from here. Should be abandoned, but it's far enough off the main roads that we can lay low for a while. We'll figure out our next move from there."

"How much time do we have before they track us?" Apollo asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

"Not long," Zeke muttered, tapping at his screen. "They'll be looking for us. And now that Lylia's with them..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Lylia knew everything—our plans, our locations, our weaknesses. The moment she told them where we were going, they would be on us like a pack of wolves.

And we'd be running again. Always running.

We moved quickly, slipping through the narrow streets of the abandoned city. The buildings around us were decaying, their windows shattered, their walls crumbling. Every corner we turned, every shadow we passed felt like a threat. I kept my hand close to my gun, my heart racing with every distant noise.

By the time we reached the warehouse, the sky had darkened completely, a heavy drizzle falling over the ruins. Zeke forced the rusted door open, and we slipped inside, the musty air greeting us with the smell of damp metal and dust.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

"We should rest here for the night," Zeke said, his voice low as he scanned the area. "I'll keep monitoring the signals, see if we've got any movement nearby."

Apollo nodded, leaning against a stack of crates. "We need a plan," he said, looking over at me. "If they find us again, we won't be able to outrun them."

I knew he was right. The files had gone out, the truth was exposed, but now we were being hunted. Lylia was out there with them, and every step we took felt like it was being tracked.

"I don't know if we'll get another chance to expose them," I said, my voice heavy with the weight of our mission. "But we have to try. We can't let them bury this."

Zeke glanced at me, his jaw tight. "We'll find a way. We always do."

But there was a darkness in his voice—a doubt that hadn't been there before. I could feel it too, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. Lylia had been one of us, and now she was with them. If they could turn her, how long before they turned someone else? How long before they found a way to silence us for good?

"We'll rest tonight," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But tomorrow we make our next move." I said, my voice firmer now. The weight of what we were facing settled in the pit of my stomach, but I refused to let it pull me under. "We can't keep running. We need to fight back."

Zeke nodded, his expression tense but determined. "I'll keep working on securing more safe locations. We might be able to tap into other underground networks, see who else out there can help us. There are more people fighting back, more than just us. We're not alone."

Apollo stepped closer, his eyes steady and reassuring. "We've already exposed the truth, Liberty. That's more than most people could ever do. We have a chance to cripple them, but it's not going to be easy. Lylia's choice makes things harder, but it doesn't change the endgame."

The mention of Lylia's name made my chest tighten again. She wasn't with us anymore, but the sting of betrayal still felt fresh, raw. I could picture her standing in the shadows of the government, using the immunity they granted her as a shield while they hunted us down. The person I trusted was now the enemy, and despite everything, I couldn't shake the hollow feeling of loss. But this wasn't the time for regrets. The path ahead was too dangerous, too critical.

"We'll make it harder for them to find us," I said, pacing as I spoke. "We can't let them pin us down. We'll stay one step ahead and hit them where they don't expect."

Zeke sighed, sinking onto a dusty crate as he began typing rapidly on his tablet. "They'll come at us with everything they've got. Lylia knows too much—where we've been, what we've done. The government is going to use her to track us down, and they won't stop until we're either dead or captured."

I glanced at the crumbling walls of the warehouse, feeling the cold seep into my bones. Lylia had chosen the path that ensured her survival, but in doing so, she had sold out her soul—and ours along with it. I didn't blame her for wanting to protect her family, but she had abandoned more than just us. She'd abandoned the truth, the very thing we were risking our lives for. And I couldn't forgive her for that.

"She tried to convince us," I whispered, almost to myself. "She wanted us to go with her, to take the government's offer. She didn't want us to die. But she didn't understand."

Apollo looked at me with his steady gaze, waiting for me to continue. "What didn't she understand?" he asked.

I met his eyes, the fire of determination building in my chest. "That we can't just survive. We need to win."

His expression shifted, something like admiration flickering across his face. "You're right," he said quietly. "Survival isn't enough anymore."

Zeke's fingers continued to fly across his tablet, the only sound in the musty warehouse. Apollo's words echoed in the silence, filling the space with a shared sense of purpose. This was no longer just about staying alive—it was about finishing what we started.