The emergency lights turned the corridor blood-red.
Ima's boots pounded across the metal flooring, echoing into the ceiling ducts. The scent of scorched circuits and burning ozone hung thick in the air, like the base itself was bleeding, wounded by the lockdown.
"Left here!" Ima hissed over her shoulder. "Quick!"
Naomi ushered the kids ahead—her daughter, Lia, clutched the strap of her ragged little satchel, her eyes huge and unblinking. Beside her, Aren's lip trembled, but he didn't make a sound. They knew this was a serious issue where they needed to be extra careful, just like when they were outside the walls with the scary creatures.
Mike and Miles brought up the rear, tense, alert. Sam jogged just ahead of Naomi, eyes scanning every corner with the rigid calculation of someone who'd done this before—too many times.
