Standoff

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Zaharah clenched her fists until her nails dug into her skin. Her eyes roamed over the room from the Director to Elliot and to the creepers. These were smaller than she remembered, maybe twice her height or less. But everything else was the same six legs, white plated armour, guns mounted on their shoulders and piercing red lasers for eyes.

Numbness tingled her fingers and toes, climbed up her limbs, and her heart rattled in her chest. All she could see was her world awash in red while a heap of metal came crashing down on top of her. All she could feel was gravity pulling her face-first toward the—

Someone yanked her by the arm, away from the creepers and out of her own head. Markus stood in front of her, an impenetrable wall, one hand on the strap of his bag and the other reaching into his belt. He pulled out what looked like a wrapped up boomerang and pressed it into Zaharah's hands. "Stay behind me."

She gave a nod and tucked the boomerang into her pocket with Skorpi. After a few breaths, her heart slowed from a full sprint to a jog, and she took a moment to assess their situation. To their left was a set of steps going up to the ventilation access, behind them was the dead-end hallway and in front, the Director, Elliot and the creepers.

Her heart rattled around in her chest like a caged animal. She'd expected the Director to be angry, but not to go this far. Giants care nothing for the ants they step on. No shit, dad. She took a step back and bump into Jade, who stood between Pharah and Roddi. Shala had moved from Roddi's head to his hood, pink eyes peeking over the rim of fabric. Not so keen on the violence now.

A thick cloud of fear descended over the group, making the air hot and cold at the same time. Clothes rustled, feet shuffled, and they exchanged glances. Zaharah had expected opposition, but she had not expected force.

Meanwhile, Director Sanders quietly scrolled through her phone, her expression as blank as a statue's. She looked as powerful as she always did, in her crisp burgundy pant suit. On an ordinary day, when she wasn't scared shitless and running for her life, Zaharah would have complimented the Director on her choice of colour.

"Really Aleesha?" Markus asked. "Don't you think this is a bit excessive? These are children."

The Director breathed a laugh and passed her phone off to Elliot. "Children? I only see one child here and even she is old enough to know better. And you, Markus," she added as she paced closer to him. "You're their caretaker, and yet you're here leading them astray."

Markus snorted. "I'm protecting them from a monster."

"Director Sanders," Pharah said, taking a tentative step forward into the crossfire. "Please, can we just talk? I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."

The Director arched a brow. "Is that why you were advocating so hard on Zaharah's behalf? Is that why you and your band of misfits were sneaking them into this building through the service door? I told you not to get involve, but it seems Zaharah has corrupted you."

"Director—"

She held up a hand. "I don't want to hear any excuses. Zaharah, come quietly. Now," she added when Zaharah didn't budge.

"I'm not going anywhere with you." Zaharah said, her voice steady in spite of her fear. She looked past Markus at the creepers and an icy jolt shot down her spine. "If it's the micro metal you want. Fine. You can take it. But I'm done with Denden and I'm done with you."

Director Sanders held her gaze as she waved Elliot off. The android gave a deferent bow and climbed the steps behind the creepers to the second floor before disappearing into one of the doors.

For a moment the Director remained silent, and a buzzing tension filled the room. "If circumstances were different, I'd have no qualms with letting you go. But Zaharah, you are far too valuable. Not just to me, but to humanity. Think of all the people we could help. All the people you could help."

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