The rain hammered against the windows like a barrage of knives. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the building to its core.
We moved silently down the stairwell, each step loud in the heavy silence between crashes of thunder. Our breaths came fast, sharp, but we didn't speak.
Suddenly, movement—something was here. Again.
"Hide!" Zayn hissed.
We dropped behind a pile of dusty crates, pressing ourselves flat against the cold concrete walls.
Then I saw it—a tiny emergency exit window, barely wide enough for one of us to squeeze through. It was rusted, covered in grime, but it was our only chance.
Zayn grabbed a broken pipe and started banging it against the railing—CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The snarls stopped. The creatures turned toward the noise.
"Now!" Insha whispered fiercely.
We ran. My hands trembled as I grabbed the rusted handle. It stuck at first, but with a desperate shove, it gave way with a screech of metal.
We slipped through the narrow opening one by one, landing hard on the wet alley behind the building.
The storm was relentless—rain cut across my face like shards of glass, thunder shaking the air around us.
Behind us, the stairwell exploded with furious snarls. They were right on our heels.
We didn't look back.
Zayn's phone buzzed again. The light from the screen flickered against his face.
"The camps—they're compromised," he said, voice low and tight.
"What?" I demanded.
"From the government. 'Stay at your place. Camps are unsafe.'"
Hope shattered like glass inside me.
We barely made it across the alley before the night exploded with a fiery roar.
Far off, flames engulfed the camp we were supposed to reach, lighting the sky with hellish orange.
The air thickened with smoke and ash, and the firestorm blazed higher, devouring everything in its path.
Zayn's voice was barely a whisper. "That was supposed to be our safe place."
Insha said nothing, just clenched her fists.
Aaron's grip on his weapon tightened.
We stood there, soaked and shaking, with no shelter left, no rescue coming.
Only the fight ahead.