Run and Pursue

The second Parker slammed through the wall and hit open air, reality punched back harder. The sun burned down, hot and merciless, baking the cracked stone under his feet, but that wasn't what had his heart clawing up his throat.

It was the trail.

Thin shadows bled across the ground—faint streaks like bruises on dry earth, stretching out fast, way too fast for anything remotely human. And ahead? There he was. A blur cutting through the sunlit ruin like gravity didn't mean shit, like the laws of nature were just a suggestion.

And draped over his shoulder—fuck. Naomi. Limp. Hanging there like a broken doll someone had tossed aside. She was breathing—barely—but that didn't mean safe. That didn't mean anything.

Parker's stomach twisted, cold dread wrapping around his ribs and squeezing.

"No. No, no, no, hell fucking no."