The night outside was merciless.
The cold slammed into Elian like a wall as he stumbled from the service tunnel into the dense woods beyond.
The stars above seemed sharper somehow, like frozen needles pricking the sky.
His breath misted in the air, ragged and shallow.
Kael shivered violently in his arms, barely conscious.
Her skin was clammy and pale, her lips tinged blue.
Elian tightened his grip around her waist, dragging her forward.
Each step felt like lifting a mountain.
Each breath a war against collapse.
But there was no stopping now.
They would be coming.
And if they caught them — there would be no second chance.
---
Footsteps crunched behind him.
Elian whirled, swinging the broken IV pole.
The girl from the lab — the one who had helped him escape — threw up her hands.
"Easy," she hissed. "It's me."
She wore a black hood now, pulled low over her short hair.
In the moonlight, her face was sharp, defiant — the kind of face that had known too much pain, too young.
Without waiting for permission, she slipped under Kael's other arm, helping him carry her.
"We have to move," she said. "They'll send drones. Dogs. Everything."
Elian grunted, too tired to argue.
He didn't know who she was.
Didn't know why she was helping.
But right now, she was the only reason they weren't dead.
--
They stumbled through the woods in silence.
Branches clawed at their skin.
Roots tried to trip their feet.
The world blurred into shades of black and silver, punctuated by the pounding in Elian's skull.
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed — growing fainter.
But not far enough.
Never far enough.
After what felt like hours, the girl veered sharply left.
"There," she whispered.
A narrow creek cut through the forest, its surface shimmering in the moonlight.
"Follow the water," she said. "It'll hide our scent."
Without waiting, she splashed into the freezing current.
Elian hesitated only a second before stepping in after her, Kael still clutched against his side.
The water bit at his legs like knives.
But the cold was a blessing.
It kept him awake.
It kept him moving.
---
Finally, they reached an abandoned shack, half-sunk into the ground.
The roof sagged dangerously.
The windows were long gone, nothing but dark, gaping holes.
But it was shelter.
It was something.
Inside, the girl cleared a space among the rubble and lowered Kael gently to the ground.
Then she turned to Elian, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"We need a fire," she said. "But smoke will give us away."
She dug into her jacket and pulled out a small, battered lighter.
"Your call," she said. "Risk it — or freeze."
Elian's throat was raw from cold and exhaustion.
He looked at Kael, her fragile body trembling uncontrollably.
He met the girl's hard blue eyes.
"Light it," he rasped.
---
The fire was small, barely a flicker — but it was life.
It warmed their frozen skin.
It pulled Kael back from the edge of unconsciousness.
The girl tore strips from her jacket and wrapped them around Kael's hands and feet.
After a long, heavy silence, Elian spoke.
"Who are you?"
The girl glanced at him from across the fire.
A shadow of something — maybe a smile, maybe a scar — touched her mouth.
"You can call me Rae," she said.
She tossed a twig into the flames.
"As for why I helped you..." Her voice grew colder. Harder. "Let's just say I hate them more than you do."
Elian stared into the fire.
He didn't trust her.
Not yet.
But he understood hatred.
He understood the fire that ate away everything soft and human inside.
He would carry it, too.
Until the day it finally consumed them all.
Until he stood over the ashes of everyone who had hurt them.
---
The fire crackled low.
The woods outside moaned with the wind.
Elian sat with his back to the wall, the broken IV pole across his lap.
Kael slept fitfully, murmuring broken words he couldn't understand.
Rae watched the darkness, her body coiled and ready.
There was no peace here.
No safety.
Only survival.
Only the cold certainty that tomorrow would be harder than tonight.
Elian closed his eyes briefly.
He pictured the faces of the students who had laughed at him.
The teachers who had looked away.
The world that had treated him like trash.
One day — they would remember him.
One day — he would be the nightmare that haunted their gilded dreams.
He would survive.
No matter what it cost.
---