Story 343: The Tables Turn

The shrill wail of alarms echoed through the compound, accompanied by the thundering of boots from approaching guards. Zara’s muscles tensed as she locked eyes with Selena Rourke. The faint smile on Rourke’s lips revealed confidence—too much confidence for someone cornered.

“Zara, this was a mistake,” Rourke said, stepping away from the control panel and raising her hands slightly, though not in surrender. “You should’ve stayed in the shadows. Now, you’ve brought the war to my doorstep.”

“Save it,” Zara replied, her pistol aimed squarely at Rourke’s chest. “Call off your guards. Now.”

Rourke chuckled darkly. “You think this is about guards? Oh, Zara, this is about survival—yours.”

Before Zara could process the words, a hissing sound filled the room. Gas vents activated, releasing a pale, noxious cloud into the air.

“Gas! Move!” Zara shouted to Callum, who was already reaching for his rebreather. She slapped hers into place, her eyes burning from the initial exposure.