He took a few steps back, held his breath, and sprinted toward the edge of the roof. As he reached the ledge, he leapt, arms outstretched, and landed on the drone with a thud.
The drone dipped slightly under his weight, but it steadied out quickly, its flight leveling off. Mikey wrapped his legs and arms around it, locking himself into place.
From thirty feet above the ground, Mikey saw it all—the soldiers beneath him, Bobo in the corner of the junkyard, lifting a car. Mikey's eyes locked on Luce and Elliot. Luce was crouched beneath the car, typing frantically on a panel. A hatch opened, and they began to disappear inside.
'That's the tunnel.'
Mikey's heart raced.
'I know where they are.'
The only problem now? He was still thirty feet in the air. But, as luck would have it, there was a pile of scrap metal just below him. If he could drop there, he might have a chance to get down quietly.
'Easy... Easy...'
He guided the drone, his fingers slipping against the cold metal, directing it to the pile. His stomach twisted with nerves as the ground drew closer.
'Just a little more...'
He released his grip, feeling the drone's weight shift as it descended. He braced for impact—
THUD.
The noise was louder than he expected. The metal piled beneath him rattled, clanging with a violent noise. Mikey tumbled, crashing into the scrap, banging against sharp edges and rough surfaces.
"Ow..."
He groaned, rolling away from the pile, only to hear the unmistakable sound of boots pounding the ground
'No! No! No!'
He was out of time.
Bullets zipped past him as he sprinted through the junkyard. The soldiers had seen him. Their shouts echoed in the night air. Mikey veered between piles of debris, moving fast, his adrenaline pushing him forward.
There it was. The car.
He was close. He ran for it, the sound of soldiers gaining on him. The hatch was open, just like before. He slid under the car with all the speed he could muster.
His feet barely touched the ground as he crawled inside, his body sliding down the ladder. He grabbed the rungs, barely catching himself. He looked out through the hatch, the boots of soldiers passing mere feet away. The light from their flashlights glinted off the metal of the car.
'Please…'
He lowered his head, closing the hatch as quietly as he could.
Mikey dropped from the hatch and landed hard on a metal grate, the impact rattling through his legs. The tunnel stretched ahead of him—long, narrow, and echoing with the metallic clatter of his footsteps. Steam hissed from unseen vents in the walls, and the hum of generators somewhere deep beneath the surface throbbed in his bones.
He didn't see Bobo, Luce, or Elliot.
'Please still be here…'
His heart hammered in his chest, lungs aching as he pushed forward, sprinting into the darkness. The farther he ran, the louder his thoughts became—panic creeping up his spine.
'Don't be too late. Not now.'
After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel curved sharply. As he turned the corner, his boots skidded slightly on the slick floor. Then—there. At the far end of the walkway, a ladder rose into a shaft of faint light pouring through an open hatch. He could hear voices above—low, urgent, and fading.
He didn't hesitate.
Gun in hand, he sprinted the last stretch, jumped onto the ladder, and scrambled upward. Every clang of his boots on the rungs echoed like a war drum.
Then—
"RAH!!!"
He burst out of the hatch like a fired bullet.
Ocean air slammed into his face, cool and briny, carrying with it the sound of churning water and distant engines. He stood on a small concrete platform, surrounded by dark waves and the endless, ink-black sea. The sky above was a hazy dome of grey, storm clouds roiling like they were watching him.
Mikey had never seen the ocean before. The scale of it nearly froze him.
But there was no time to gawk.
There—just ahead—a speedboat was pulling away from the platform, engines revving. A blur of figures moved on deck: Bobo at the back, Luce by the controls. Spray kicked up behind them as the boat began to speed away.
They hadn't left yet.
'I can make it. I'm not done.'
He broke into a full sprint, lungs burning, shoes slamming against the concrete. Just as he reached the edge, he collided with Elliot—knocking the man aside without slowing down. Elliot's surprised grunt barely registered.
Mikey launched himself into the air, arms wide, the wind tearing past his ears.
"WAIT FOR ME!!!"
The world slowed for a moment. Suspended in the space between failure and reunion, he soared.
And then—impact. Cold spray against his face. Hands catching the boat's edge. Grunts. Gasps.
Mikey had made it.
He'd finally caught up.