No Safe Place

No Safe Place

The figure’s gun leveled at me, the trigger already half pulled.

Cole moved first. He lunged, his body slamming into mine as the shot cracked through the clearing. We hit the dirt hard, pain jolting through my ribs. Cole rolled, his weapon flashing, and the shadow staggered back into the trees.

“Move,” he barked.

We ran. My legs churned through mud and roots, my lungs burning. Behind us, radios crackled, voices barking orders. A bullet ripped through a branch inches above my head. I ducked lower, stumbling but refusing to stop.

Cole grabbed my hand, yanking me toward the slope ahead. We half slid, half fell down the embankment, crashing into a ditch that reeked of wet earth and rust. Shots hissed past, sparking against metal scraps.

He shoved me forward. “Keep going.”

I crawled, dirt grinding under my nails, until we squeezed through the broken shell of an old drainage tunnel. Cole fired one last cover shot before dropping in behind me. The sound of boots thundered overhead, but the tunnel swallowed us, damp and dark.

We crawled until the echoes of pursuit thinned. Only then did Cole slow, listening, his chest heaving.

“They will sweep the woods,” he muttered. “We have minutes before they track the tunnel exit.”

“Where do we go?” I whispered.

“Anywhere but here.”

We pushed out of the tunnel into the edge of a deserted rail yard. Rusted cars loomed like broken skeletons, the tracks warped and cracked. Cole hauled me toward a boxcar with a gap pried open just enough to slip through. Inside, the air was thick with rust and dust, but it was shelter.

Cole sank against the wall, checking his weapon with fast, precise movements. “They are not letting go now. We stay too long in one place, we are finished.”

I pressed my back to the cold steel, my body shaking. “He was talking to me. Not them. To me.”

Cole’s jaw tightened. “That is how he works. He keeps your mind as much as your body.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed faintly. The vibration jolted me like a gunshot.

Cole’s head snapped up. “Turn it off.”

I looked at the screen. A blocked number. My pulse leapt. “It is Cynthia.”

Cole cursed. “Do not answer. She cut you loose. She is compromised.”

But I slid my thumb across anyway. “Hello?”

Her voice came fast, hushed. “Tessa, do not speak. Just listen.”

My heart hammered. “Why are you...”

“Quiet,” she hissed. “I cannot risk being traced. I should not be calling you at all. Officially, you are fired. That was not a lie. You cannot publish through me, not now. But off the record, behind the scenes, I want the truth out as much as you do.”

Cole gestured angrily for me to hang up, but I shook my head.

Cynthia’s voice dropped lower. “He owns the front page, Tessa. The networks, the police briefings, even some of my editors. You cannot go at him head-on. You will lose. But there are cracks in the walls. Money always leaves a trail, even when it is laundered. I am sending you files. Encrypted. Follow them quietly. If you make it public, do it only when you have the full chain. Otherwise Cain or one of his dogs will erase it before it breathes.”

Cole leaned closer, his whisper sharp. “Ask her if she is being watched.”

“Are you safe?” I asked.

Her silence lasted too long. Then, flat: “No one is safe. Check your phone in two minutes. That is all I can give you.”

The line clicked dead.

I stared at the screen, my stomach twisting.

Cole ripped it out of my hand. “This is a trap. She is pulling you deeper when you need to cut free.”

“No,” I said, my voice shaking but firm. “If she wanted me gone, she would not risk her job calling me. This is real.”

He glared, then looked at the boxcar door. “Then we move. If the files are coming, Cain will intercept them. That means they know exactly where to find us.”

The phone buzzed again. A flood of encrypted documents poured in, scrolling too fast to follow. Names. Accounts. Payments. Half of it scrambled in code.

Cole cursed under his breath. “He will see this too. Copy it and delete the source.”

I backed into the corner, clutching the phone to my chest. “No. I will not erase the only proof we have.”

“You want proof? Kyle will send you proof. Photos. Videos. Enough to bury you under shame until you choke on it. This is not evidence, Tess. It is bait.”

I shook my head, my throat raw. “It is not bait if we use it right. It is our only way to cut through his walls.”

Cole’s eyes locked on mine, burning with frustration. “Then you better be ready to fight like hell, because you just painted the biggest target of your life.”

Before I could answer, a harsh screech echoed across the rail yard. A floodlight snapped on, sweeping across the rusted cars. Voices shouted. Dogs barked.

Cole yanked me toward the back of the car. “Too late. They traced the transmission.”

We hit the dirt running. Flashlights carved through the dark, beams slicing across the tracks. Radios crackled with orders, Kyle’s voice bleeding through again, calm and mocking.

“You never learn, Tess. Every secret you hold, I let you hold. Every breath you take, I permit. And now you think you can play behind my back?”

Cole dragged me between two cars, his weapon raised. “Ignore him. Move.”

But I could not ignore it. The voice felt inside me, curling around every thought.

We weaved through the maze of metal, shots ringing out behind us, sparks flying as bullets chewed into steel. I ducked, stumbled, but Cole pulled me up each time, never slowing.

Ahead, an old service tunnel gaped open, half collapsed but still passable. Cole shoved me inside. “Go. Do not stop.”

I crawled on hands and knees, the phone clutched tight. Dirt filled my lungs, the tunnel scraping my back, but the light behind us grew brighter, the voices closer.

Kyle’s voice came one last time, echoing through the radios.

“You can run, Tess. But every path leads back to me.”

Cole pushed me forward, his hand steady on my back as the tunnel opened into darkness ahead.

And then a gunshot cracked, deafening in the confined space. The tunnel shook, dirt raining down.

I froze.

Cole’s voice cut through, sharp and ragged. “Keep moving.”

Another shot echoed, closer this time. The tunnel narrowed. My phone buzzed in m
y hand, Cynthia’s files still flickering across the screen.

And then the light behind us filled the tunnel.