“If we stay in the lower quadrant, we’re wrapping a ribbon around Hibis and handing him over on a silver platter!” Johar’s voice slammed against the metal walls of the bunker, buzzing right alongside the flickering neon tubes overhead. He threw a heavy tactical map onto the table, his eyes locked on Marcos.
Marcos didn't flinch. He leaned over the table, his knuckles turning white against the dented steel. “The lower quadrant has the only operational shielding left, Johar. If I move twenty-five kids across the open courtyard while the government drones are sweeping the perimeter, we won't even make it to the treeline. It’s a suicide run.”
“It’s survival!” Johar shot back, stepping into Marcos’s space, his chest practically touching the leader's. “Your problem, Marcos, is that you’re playing not to lose. I’m trying to win. The kids are terrified. They need a leader who actually has the guts to fight back, not someone hiding in the dark waiting for the cage to lose power.”
From the shadows near the heavy blast doors, Jamir watched his brother’s jaw tighten. Jamir checked the chamber of his rifle, the metallic click echoing softly in the room's tense silence. He knew exactly what this was. It wasn't just about the escape route anymore. Johar’s jealousy was a living, breathing thing in the room, suffocating the actual problem they were trying to solve: keeping twenty-five immortal children from becoming government property.
“I am keeping them alive,” Marcos said, his voice dropping to a dangerously calm whisper that cut straight through Johar’s shouting. “Every single one of them. Including Hibis. If you want to challenge my command, Johar, do it after we get them behind the blast shields. Right now, pack your gear or get out of my way.”
A high-pitched, electronic shriek tore through the bunker's speaker system, followed instantly by a sound that made Jamir’s stomach drop—the violent, overlapping thrum of heavy rotor blades cutting through the island’s humid air.
The flickering neon tubes overhead didn't just buzz this time; they shattered. Half the room plunged into pitch blackness, illuminated only by the aggressive, pulsing red of the emergency backup strips.
"Drones," Jamir barked, slamming his rifle’s magazine into place and stepping out of the shadows. "Multiple signatures. They’re right above us."
Before Marcos or Johar could answer, the ground buckled. A massive explosion rocked the ceiling, showering all three of them with concrete dust and debris. The blast wave rattled Jamir's teeth. Through the speaker on the wall, the panicked screams of the younger kids in the barracks cut through the static.
"They breached the northern grid!" Johar yelled, stumbling back but quickly recovering his footing. He didn't look at the map; he looked straight at Marcos, his eyes flashing with a terrifying mix of panic and validation. "I told you the lower quadrant was a death trap! The cage is failing!"
"Jamir, lock down the auxiliary tunnel!" Marcos shouted over the blaring sirens, wiping a streak of drywall dust from his forehead. He didn't waste time arguing with Johar. He was already moving toward the heavy blast doors. "Johar, shut up and get to the barracks. If a single drone gets a line of sight on Hibis, we lose everything. Move!"
Jamir didn't wait to see if Johar followed orders. He sprinted in the opposite direction, his boots skidding across the debris-littered floor as he headed down the narrow, subterranean hallway leading to the auxiliary tunnel.
The air here smelled of burnt copper and melting plastic. The neon tubes lining the corridor walls were dying, pulsing erratically like a failing heartbeat, casting long, jerky shadows ahead of him.
Whirrrrr-clack.
The sound was sharp, mechanical, and way too close.
Jamir rounded the final bend and skidded to a halt. The steel blast doors of the auxiliary tunnel were warped inward, smoke hissing from the edges where a thermite charge had just eaten through the locking mechanism. Through the gap, a low-slung, multi-legged breach-drone forced its way through. It looked like a metallic spider, its central eye glowing an aggressive, scanning violet—the signature color of government tracking tech.
"Not today," Jamir growled.
He dropped to one knee, leveled his rifle, and fired a three-round burst. The heavy caliber rounds slammed into the drone's armored chassis. Sparks flew, but the machine barely slowed down. Its violet eye locked onto Jamir, and a twin-barrel turret on its underbelly began to spin.
Jamir threw himself sideways into a shallow alcove just as a hail of suppression needles shredded the wall where he had been kneeling. The concrete exploded into a cloud of choking gray dust.
"Marcos, the tunnel is compromised!" Jamir yelled into his comms earbud, his voice competing with the deafening roar of the drone's weapon. "They’re using heavy armor units! I can't hold the gate alone!"
Static hissed back. "...amir... get Hibis to... can't hold..." The signal cut out completely. The government was jamming the frequency.
Through the dust cloud, Jamir saw a second drone squeeze through the ruptured blast doors. If these things cleared the tunnel, they would have a straight line of sight to the barracks where twenty-four terrified kids and Hibis were trapped.
Jamir pulled an electromagnetic pulse grenade from his tactical vest. His fingers were slick with sweat. He timed the pulse of the lead drone's turret, popped the pin, and rolled the cylinder across the floor.
Thump.
A silent, invisible wave of energy erupted. The violet eyes of both drones flickered, sputtered, and died. The mechanical spiders collapsed into lifeless heaps of metal, blocking the doorway.
Jamir didn't celebrate. He knew the EMP would only stall the next wave for a few minutes, and the dying glow of the corridor's neon lights told him the island's main power grid was bleeding out. He needed to get back to Marcos.