Dozens of mercenaries flooded the corridor, their weapons raised and laser sights tracking toward our chests.

“Drop the weapons!” the lead mercenary bellowed, his voice echoing off the marble walls.

Marcus shoved me and Lily back into the threshold of the vault, using the thick steel frame as cover.

He didn't surrender; instead, he threw a flashbang grenade down the hallway.

A blinding flash of white light and a deafening crack disoriented the approaching guards.

Marcus leaned out, firing precise, controlled bursts from his rifle.

Three mercenaries dropped instantly, their armor useless against his armor-piercing rounds.

“We have to move up to the roof!” Marcus shouted over the deafening roar of gunfire.

“There's no way back down through the basement!”

I grabbed Lily, lifting her into my arms so she wouldn't have to run.

She was surprisingly heavy, but the pure adrenaline coursing through my veins gave me strength I didn't know I had.

Marcus laid down a heavy barrage of suppressing fire, creating a narrow window for us to escape the vault's entrance.

We sprinted down the opposite end of the hallway, ducking behind stone pillars as bullets chipped the masonry around us.

I could hear the angry shouts of the remaining guards as they recovered from the flashbang and gave chase.

We reached a heavy metal stairwell door.

Marcus kicked it open, pushing me inside before turning to fire a final volley down the corridor.

He slammed the door shut, locking it with a heavy steel bar he found on the landing.

“Climb!” he ordered, pointing up the spiral staircase.

My legs burned with lactic acid as I hauled myself and Lily up flight after flight of stairs.

The sounds of heavy battering rams echoed from the door below us.

They were breaking through.

We reached the top floor, bursting out onto the sprawling, flat roof of the abandoned asylum.

The cold night air hit me like a physical blow, instantly clearing the lingering fog of the neurotoxin from my brain.

Rain had begun to fall, a cold, driving drizzle that made the tar-paper roof slick and treacherous.

I looked around frantically, but there was nowhere to hide on the vast, open expanse.

We were completely exposed.

Suddenly, the unmistakable chopping sound of helicopter blades cut through the storm.

A sleek black chopper rose from behind the tree line, its powerful searchlight sweeping across the roof.

The blinding beam pinned us against the stone parapet.

The side door of the helicopter slid open, revealing a heavy machine gun mounted on a swivel.

And standing behind it, holding a megaphone, was Eleanor.