The woman’s gun doesn’t waver. Her gaze is piercing, though I can’t read her eyes through the dark visor.
“Get on the bike.” She repeats, her voice calm but edged with an undeniable authority. “You don’t have time to think. Move.”
My pulse still hammers in my ears. The sound of distant sirens grows louder, but the threat in front of me is immediate, pressing. The man in the car, the gunfire, the memory of Rowan Cade—they’re all tangled together, pulling me in opposite directions.
Why does the woman know my name? Why does she want me to leave?
Another motorcycle engine revs somewhere in the distance, but the woman stays rooted, waiting.
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice sharp with a mixture of suspicion and raw confusion.
She tilts her head, as if considering the question. Then she speaks, each word measured. “The last person who’ll save you from yourself.”
Mu stomach churns. That could mean anything.
“Why are you trying to help me?”
“Because you still have a choice,” she says. “You’re not out of this yet.”
A distant shout. More footsteps. The sound of boots slapping against pavement—more hunters closing in.
The woman takes a step forward, her gloved hand reaching into a pocket.
I tense, but instead of a weapon, she pulls out a small device—a tracker. She presses a button, and a faint beep echoes from the device.
“You’re already marked,” she says. “We have minutes before they find you. Your old life has already caught up with you.”
My heart skips. “Who’s after me?”
“Everyone who knew Rowan Cade.” She gestures toward the street. “And they won’t stop until you’re gone.”
The motorcycle’s engine growls again, its exhaust hissing in the cool night air. I look at the woman, feeling the weight of her words pressing down on them.
Run. Or stay?
The sirens grow louder, and I feel the weight of the decision.
Without a word, I move. We stride to the motorcycle, grabbing the back of the seat, my fingers brushing against the cool metal.
The woman revs the engine. “Hold on.”
We speed off into the night, the city blurring around us. The streetlights flash, the wind pulling at my hair. I feel the raw tension of escape, of being hunted. Every sound of the city feels like an echo of a life I can barely remember.
YOU ARE READING
The Fractured Code: System Crash
Teen FictionBOOK 1: In a world where every thought, action, and memory is controlled by the Program, true freedom is nothing more than a myth. Society operates under the illusion of choice, but behind the scenes, an omnipresent system dictates every outcome. Ro...
