The rain hadn’t let up. It slicked every branch and rock, turning the trail into a ribbon of mud that sucked at their boots and whispered with every step. The air smelled like wet cedar and iron, the kind of metallic tang that came before lightning.
Avery moved in a crouch, gun up, breath shallow. Every few feet she scanned the trees, listening for a snap, a breath, anything that didn’t belong. Nothing but the soft hiss of rainfall and the rhythmic creak of their gear.
Jackson was just ahead of her, shoulders broad and steady in the dark, the faint gleam of water tracing down the line of his vest. Noah moved behind them, quiet as a ghost. And Isla, several yards in front, led the way toward the bunker.
The further they went, the heavier the air felt. The trees pressed close, branches weaving together overhead until the moonlight vanished completely. The forest muffled the world, swallowing their movements whole.
When the concrete slab finally came into view, it rose out of the earth like a tombstone.
Avery felt her chest tighten. That was it, the place Riley had described. The place where she was supposed to trade herself for two lives.
Isla slowed, her footsteps careful, methodical. She reached the edge of the clearing and paused. Rain ran off her hood in silver lines as she scanned the area, then raised a gloved hand in signal.
Through the faint crackle of the comms, Avery heard her whisper, “There’s a camera.”
The words were barely audible, but they hit hard.
Avery’s gaze followed the slight tilt of Isla’s head toward a tree near the clearing. There, just above a knot of moss and bark, a small black lens glistened under the rain.
Someone was watching.
“Eyes on,” Isla murmured. Her voice was low, controlled, but Avery could hear the edge under it. “They know we’re here.”
Avery’s stomach knotted. She instinctively glanced around the shadows, her pulse jumping. If there was one camera, there could be more, hidden among the trees, maybe infrared, maybe motion-triggered. She swallowed hard, forcing her breathing to stay even.
Noah’s hand came up, signaling them to hold. They froze where they were, half-shielded by the wet undergrowth.
“Stay put,” he said through the comm, his voice barely more than a breath. “Let Isla finish the sequence.”
Isla adjusted her stance, one steadying breath, then another. She looked like she was alone, just as the instructions demanded.
Avery’s hands tightened around her weapon, every nerve alive. She could hear the slow drip of water from the trees, the faint hum of static in her earpiece, the uneven beat of her heart.
She hoped whoever was behind that camera couldn’t see them and couldn’t see her.
Because if they could, the trap was already sprung.
Isla lifted her hand toward the slab.
One knock. Two. Three.
Then silence.
Rain fell harder, washing over the clearing.
And nothing moved.
Not yet.
But Avery couldfeelit, the awareness pressing in from the dark. Someone, somewhere, was watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.
The sound of Isla’s three knocks echoed through the clearing, dull against the concrete slab, swallowed almost instantly by the rain.
Then, nothing.
Avery held her breath, her heart thudding so hard she could feel it in her palms. Seconds stretched. The rain fell harder, drumming against her hood, trickling down the back of her neck.
Nothing moved.