The drones struck the metallic door in rapid succession, each impact resonating like a drumbeat in the stillness of the night. I turned to the woman, her glittering eyes reflecting the faint light of the stars above. They shimmered with urgency and determination, but also, perhaps, with the flicker of an idea. For a fleeting moment, her lips parted as if to speak, but another deafening bang from the door interrupted her. The sound was sharper this time, a prelude to something ominous.
The once-steadfast door began to glow red, the metal heating under an intense, searing force. They were melting it—lasers. The drones wouldn't stop until the barrier was reduced to slag.
Without a word, she grabbed my hand and bolted, pulling me toward the narrow bridge connecting the abandoned warehouse and the docks to the mainland. Her grip was firm, almost desperate, yet focused. I glanced back, just in time to see the door succumbing to its relentless assault. The glowing red fissures widened, and I knew we didn't have much time.
As we reached the bridge, she suddenly pressed closer to me. Her hand brushed against my left thigh, sending an unexpected jolt through my body. Before I could react, she slipped her fingers into my pocket with precision, retrieving a small mouthpiece device. She didn't hesitate. Without a word, she shoved it into my mouth, then secured her own. The gesture was swift, calculated, and left no room for argument.
The metallic whine of the drones grew louder as they burst through the warehouse door. With no other choice, we leapt from the bridge, plunging into the icy embrace of the waters below.
The cold hit like a slap, shocking my senses awake. As we submerged, two drones tried to follow but were instantly fried upon contact with the water's surface, their circuits sparking in protest. The others, learning from their comrades' demise, hovered above, glowing green as they began scanning the water for us. Moments later, beams of lasers pierced through the surface, their fiery precision unnervingly accurate even underwater.
Adrenaline surged through me as I twisted and turned to avoid the deadly beams. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the woman swimming with calculated precision toward a dark, narrow tunnel. With lasers slicing through the water around me, staying behind was not an option. I followed her into the shadows of the tunnel, leaving the chaos above.
The tunnel opened into the city's labyrinthine sewage system, the stench hitting me like a physical blow. We emerged from the water, gasping for breath, our soaked clothes clinging uncomfortably to our skin. She didn't waste a second. Scanning the area, she quickly located a manhole cover and began prying it open. With a final heave, we climbed up, emerging onto a dimly lit street.
The city was just beginning to stir, the pale light of dawn casting long shadows across the asphalt. She wrung out her drenched hair with a few quick motions, the water pooling around her feet. Then, from a Ziploc bag she'd kept miraculously dry, she retrieved a phone and ordered a taxi. She spared me only a brief glance before vanishing into the vehicle, leaving me alone on the damp pavement.
I stood there for a moment, disoriented by the abruptness of her departure. With a sigh, I trudged to the hidden spot where I'd stashed my gym bag. It held a set of clean civilian clothes—a stark contrast to the wet, suffocating spandex clinging to my body. The sunrise painted the horizon in hues of orange and pink as I changed, the asphalt shimmering like shards of broken glass under the golden light.
Despite my exhaustion, I began the long walk home. My legs protested every step, but my mind was too restless to care. I pulled out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through job applications, a hollow attempt to distract myself from the events that had just unfolded.
As I walked, my inattentiveness caught up with me. I collided with someone, the impact jolting me out of my thoughts. I stumbled, regaining my footing just in time to see a familiar figure clutching her forehead.
She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of surprise and relief. For a moment, I doubted my own eyes. Was she real? Her golden hair, tied in a loose, messy bun, glinted in the morning light. Her ruby-red eyes sparkled with an energy that seemed infectious, and she wore a black sports bra paired with form-fitting booty shorts that accentuated her athletic build.
"Marx," she greeted, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Fancy running into you here." She gestured to my gym bag. "You're coming from the gym?"
Her tone was light, teasing, but it made me uneasy. I couldn't exactly tell her the truth about where I'd been.
"Hey, Marl," I replied, forcing a casual smile. "Yeah, just finished working out." The lie rolled off my tongue effortlessly, though I felt a pang of guilt. "What about you? What are you doing out so early?"
She raised an eyebrow as if the answer should have been obvious. "Jogging," she said simply, her voice carrying a note of amusement.
"Ah, that's nice," I replied lamely.
"Well, I need to finish up. See you around," she said, flashing a quick smile before jogging off.
For reasons I couldn't quite place, her brief presence left me with a renewed sense of energy. I shook my head, a faint smile playing on my lips, and continued my journey. But the moment of peace was short-lived. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I saw the caller ID: Unknown.
The sight of it sent a chill down my spine, and my mood instantly soured. Reluctantly, I answered.
"Marx," a distorted voice greeted me. "You're not out of the woods yet."
The cryptic message was enough to make my heart race. I glanced around, suddenly hyper-aware of my surroundings. The street was mostly empty, save for a few early risers.
"What do you want?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.
The voice on the other end chuckled—a low, menacing sound. "Let's just say… we're watching. You've gotten too close to something you shouldn't have. Stay alert."
The line went dead before I could respond. I stared at the phone in my hand, a sinking feeling settling in my chest. Who were these people? And what did they want with me?
I couldn't shake the unease as I finally reached my apartment. The space felt both comforting and oppressive, the walls closing in on me as the events of the night replayed in my mind. I peeled off my clothes and stepped into the shower, hoping the scalding water would wash away not just the grime but also the lingering tension.
But even as I stood under the stream, the weight of the situation pressed down on me. The drones, the woman, the cryptic warning—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle I wasn't equipped to solve. And yet, deep down, I knew this was far from over.
As I dried off and dressed in fresh clothes, my mind raced with questions. Who was the woman? Why had she chosen to involve me? And most importantly, who was watching me now?
The sun was fully up by the time I sat down at my desk, staring at my computer screen. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. The city outside was waking up, oblivious to the chaos I had just survived. But for me, the day had only begun.
I opened a browser tab and began searching for answers. If they were watching me, it was time I started watching back.