The building loomed in the darkness, its cracked facade like the face of something long forgotten. Bricks jutted at odd angles, loosened by decades of rain and wind. Skylar Hayes emerged from the shadows, his hood pulled low against the drizzle, and traced the silhouette of the structure with calculating eyes. A faint light flickered in one of the upper windows before going dark, leaving the building in hollow silence.
Perfect. Forgotten by the city. Temporary. Anonymous..
The entrance door creaked loudly as he pushed it open, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. Skylar hesitated, his sharp gaze scanning the darkness ahead before stepping inside. His hand brushed against the strap of his bag, the weight of the equipment inside grounding him.
The air was stale, carrying the faint tang of rust and mildew. Skylar's boots scraped against cracked tiles, each step amplifying the eerie silence.
Reaching the staircase, he paused to listen.
Nothing.
Skylar exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he began to climb. He reached the third floor and pushed open a door at the end of the hallway, revealing a small, empty room. The only furniture was a broken chair shoved into the corner, its wooden legs splintered.
Perfect.
Skylar set his bag down and walked to the window. He pressed his fingers against the cold, grimy glass, peering out into the night. The view wasn't much—just the backs of other abandoned buildings—but it gave him a sense of the layout, the potential exits and escape routes.
He turned back to the room and began his routine.
Every corner was checked, every surface wiped clean of dust to ensure no trace of his presence would be left behind. He set up a signal jammer near the window, positioning it carefully before unpacking his laptop.
As he worked, his thoughts wandered.
Three hideouts in as many days. Yet no matter how far he moved, the tension followed—an unseen shadow breathing down his neck. NovaTerra had been a warning, sharp and deliberate. He couldn't ignore it.
Skylar's fingers hesitated on the edge of his laptop. Memories of the last places he'd left behind drifted through his mind: the stale smell of an abandoned storage unit on the east side, the damp walls of a crumbling motel by the river. Each one had seemed safe, until the silence began to feel too loud, too watchful.
How long could he keep this up?
The question lingered, unspoken, as Skylar booted up his laptop and began setting up his network. His exhaustion clawed at the edges of his focus, but he pushed it aside, forcing himself to stay sharp. There was no room for doubt, no margin for error.
He wasn't just running for himself. Serena needed him.
Serena needed him. He pictured her smile, brave even after the third surgery, her eyes defiant against the machines that kept her alive. It wasn't just about staying ahead—it was about keeping her future intact.
"Focus," he muttered, his fingers moving faster as he accessed his encrypted files.
The decoy was a calculated risk.
Skylar's screen filled with cascading lines of code—an intricate framework for a fabricated breach, just complex enough to bait investigators.
He planted false data trails, weaving a web of misinformation designed to lead anyone chasing him in the wrong direction. The breadcrumbs would point to a new identity, a false alias he'd carefully crafted for moments like this.
YOU ARE READING
Lines in the Code
Romance"A relentless cop. A brilliant hacker. An obsession that could destroy them both." Detective Xavier Cross doesn't stop until he catches his mark-and his latest target, the elusive hacker known only as Ph. S, is no exception. With every daring escape...
