#fugitives

Maybe not on every billboard. Maybe not plastered behind the front desk of this hostel as they came in. But… maybe every now and then, their faces flashing up on the broad screens of the buildings between ads for AI companions and new transports. He’d been watching for a good ten minutes while Jake finished his meal, and he hadn’t seen their faces once. Not once. 

He felt the food in his stomach like a brick. 

“Something’s wrong,” he murmured. 

Jake sat up. “What? What is it?”

Marcus stood up, walked to the window. “They… they should have put up wanted posters. At least once. AMTEC can afford the ad space. We’re escaped Levs. You were ordered for consignment. I killed my handler, for fuck’s sake. We’re as wanted as it gets. Yeah, they’re lazy, but… that means they would want the civvies out there, doing their work for them, keeping an eye out for two Levs on the run. And they aren’t running ads? Not a single one?” The billboards flashed again: an ad for a new razor, a new diet injectable, and a brain chip that apparently could help with orgasms. Marcus had seen each one of those ads while he’d been watching the window. The billboards had cycled through all their ads at least once. And he and Jake weren’t anywhere in the line-up. 

He swallowed hard. “We should go.”

Jake climbed out of bed. “But—”

A coil of rope dropped outside the window, the end stretching out of Marcus’s sight toward the top of the building. He jerked the curtain closed. 

“Jake. They’re on the roof. We’ve gotta go.”

Jake leapt into action. Marcus looked around for his boots; Jake had set them by the door, upside-down so the water would drip out of them overnight. He grabbed them and yanked them on. Jake was pulling on his own boots, stuffing as much of the food and water into his pockets as he could. Marcus grabbed the cane. He probably didn’t need it anymore, but it didn’t hurt to have a weapon of some kind. Jake managed to stuff most of the water and all of the snacks into his multiple pockets. He looked to Marcus and nodded. 

“Let’s move,” Marcus croaked. 

Before Jake turned toward the door, he fished around in his pocket and pulled out the last cartridge of analgesic. He dropped it into the center of the bed. “In case she finds it,” he said. “She held up her end of things. And she’s about to lose a window.”

She can file a complaint with AMTEC, Marcus thought bitterly. He followed Jake out the door and into the hall. 

His mind raced. They were on the roof, but if they were smart, they would also have the ground floor exits covered, too. If there was a maintenance exit, that might work… but they might also have eyes on that. 

That’s what Marcus would do, if this was his assignment. 

Fuck.

Before they got five steps down the hallway, they heard voices. 

“…think if you want the answer to that, you should come back with a fucking warrant.”

“AMTEC has clearance to carry out extrajudicial searches and seizures, ma’am. Either get the names of those two guests or you'll be subject to arrest.”

Marcus shoved Jake back down the hall, the way they’d come. They sprinted past their room and ducked into an alcove along the hall.

“I don’t have their names. And I don’t consent to a search of that room. I don’t consent for you to be – get off me – on my fucking property—”

“Who owns the card used to purchase the room? We’re going to search your records regardless. Whose name is attached to those credits?”

There was a pause. Marcus heard several sets of boots – four at least – file into the hall. He could hear the woman pitching a fit among them. There was a gasp, a thud, as if she’d been thrown into a wall. 

“This is about to get violent, ma’am. Feel free to give us your master key to open the door to avoid damage to your property. Otherwise, we’re going to break it down.”

“Fuck you. Get the fuck—”

“Yellow team, ready?”

There was a pause, for the other team to respond in the asshole’s ear.

“Copy. Go.”

Glass shattered behind the door. Wood splintered as the men in the hall kicked the door in. The woman shrieked and hurled insults that impressed even Marcus. Within the room, he heard a muffled “Levy, get down on the floor!”

Fucking morons. Yelling at nothing.

He grabbed Jake’s shirt and shoved him down the hall. Jake broke into a dead run. Marcus’s leg twinged, but he followed. They sprinted past their room, past the morons who had all packed into the tiny space and were shouting for a nonexistent Levy to get on the floor and put his hands up. They ran past the woman who stood in the hallway, pale and shaking with rage, staring at the busted door. She didn't even look at the two of them. 

Marcus didn’t head for the elevator; he threw open the door for the stairs and thundered down them. Fuck, that made his leg hurt so much worse. Sweat made his shirt stick to his back as he took two steps at a time, with Jake right beside him. He counted each floor as they went down. 

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

They burst into the lobby. He and Jake ran out the door and onto the sidewalk. Jake clutched his side, but Marcus didn’t slow. He kept running. Jake stayed right beside him. 

They dashed down an alleyway, popped out into a busy street. At that, Marcus slowed down, held out his arm for Jake to stop, too. He matched the walking pace of everyone else on the packed sidewalk, chest heaving. His throat ached with thirst. His leg was on fire. The cane was still held tight in his fist. 

“Wh-where do we go?” Jake whispered. 

“Not sure,” Marcus said. “Don’t know how they found us that time.” 

He felt Jake’s hand on his wrist, and shook it off. He needed his hand free in case…

In case…

“Do you know how to ride the train?” Marcus said. “I’ve never done it. Do we need a ticket? Or…”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “You need a ticket, and it needs to be bought with credits beforehand.”

“Fuck.” He blew out a slow breath. “We can go back to the warehouse. They didn’t bother us there. Or we can just… I don't know, keep walking.” He ducked off the sidewalk, down another alley. Jake followed. “Or we could just…”

Every hair on his body stood up at once. 

Someone was following them. 

He shifted the cane to his right hand, pushed Jake slightly in front of him with his left. “Jake,” he said softly. “Keep walking. Once we get to the end of this alley, take a left. Okay? I’m telling you this because I don’t want us to get separated.”

Jake nodded. 

They both broke into a sprint. 

They cleared the alley, took a hard left. These buildings were older, Marcus could tell. They looked empty, too. The person behind them also started running. He swore, pushed himself to go faster. They cut through a lot littered with broken bottles and old transport parts, ran between two more buildings. The person behind them ran faster. It felt like Marcus’s leg was coming apart at the seams. He tripped, nearly fell. 

“Marcus!” Jake cried, yanked him up by his shirt. 

Marcus shoved him forward. “Go.”

Around another building, past another. A brick wall stretched across a courtyard, hemming them in – trapping them. It blocked two of their three ways out. 

Marcus immediately realized his mistake. They weren't being chased. They were being herded.

He turned to face their attacker, pushing Jake firmly behind him with one hand. He could barely stand on his injured leg. His knuckles creaked as he gripped the aluminum cane, held it across his body. 

He could feel Jake against his back, panting, trembling. Protective rage shuddered in his chest as the man who'd been chasing them slowed to a saunter. He stayed a safe distance away – guarding their exit.

Marcus recognized him. He knew his face – from the feed he had watched in the colonel’s office.

It was the man who had held Jake, pressed a gun to the side of his head as he screamed for Marcus.

Marcus shuddered with rage – and below the rage was terror as he felt Jake press against his back. The man pulled a gun from a holster under his arm, pointed it at Marcus. Marcus went rigid. With his other hand, the man pulled out a phone, dialed it, and held it to his ear. He was breathing just as hard as Jake and Marcus were. 

“Alex,” the man said, his voice echoing oddly in the courtyard. “Come outside, will you? You would not believe what I just caught.”

Continued here

👤 IDENTIFIED TARGETS:

Numbuh 789 (Nick Waller): Former Field Agent. Charge: HIGH TREASON.

The Delightful Girl: Target of enemy origin. Classification: EXTREME DANGER.

Unidentified Adult: Possibly mastermind. Classification: INFILTRATION AND ESPIONAGE.

Numbuh 362 (Rachel T. McKenzie): Former Supreme Leader. Charge: SUPREME CONSPIRACY.

Numbuh 1 (Nigel Uno): The catalyst for disaster. Classification: LEGENDARY LEVEL THREAT.

INSTRUCTION: Immediate capture. They are considered armed and extremely dangerous. Any contact must be reported to Lunar Base immediately.

_____________________________________________________________

📖 NEW CHAPTER: "Turning Point"

Loyalty comes at a price, and today, the cost is exile. What led these five to form the most unlikely alliance in KND history?

The point of no return has arrived. Which side will you be on when the hunt begins?

🚀 Read the update now!

Read it on Archive of Our Own (AO3) – Search: "KND- Operation S.Q.U.A.D. - Chapter 13: Turning Point