Laura's limbs were unresponsive as the world around her came into focus. Her shoulder throbbed with a dull ache, and her head pounded as though someone were hammering behind her temples. The smell of smoke invaded her senses, pulling her closer to consciousness.

When her eyes fluttered open, the sky was the first thing she saw, with faint wisps of black smoke curling upward at the edges of her vision.

She blinked hard, her breathing shallow. The grass beneath her felt cool against her skin, but heat radiated from the train wreckage behind her. She tried to push herself up, but a shadow loomed over her, blocking the sunlight.

"Stay down," a voice ordered.

Her head snapped toward the source, and her stomach twisted. The man standing over her wore tactical gear with a black helmet; only his eyes were visible. In his hands was a rifle, the barrel tilted downward, but it was no less menacing.

"Are you hurt?" the man asked, his voice clipped but calm.

Laura froze, staring at him. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

The soldier crouched down, his gloved hand reaching toward her shoulder. Laura flinched, scrambling backward, but the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through her body.

"You'll be fine," the man said, his tone flat as his hand fell back to his side. He stood again, his gaze sweeping the area. "I won't hurt you as long as you don't do anything stupid."

His words should have been reassuring, but they weren't.

"Who—who are you?" she managed, her voice trembling.

The man didn't answer. Another soldier jogged up to him, speaking in low, rapid tones Laura couldn't make out – their voices thick with a strange accent. Whatever he said made him tense. He turned back toward her, the faintest hint of frustration visible in the way he shifted his stance.

"Why are you doing this?" Laura asked, her voice louder now, tinged with anger. "You blew up the train. You killed—"

"We didn't do this," the soldier cut her off, his head tilting toward the smouldering wreckage. "If we had, you wouldn't be breathing."

His words stunned her into silence. Her gaze flicked toward the train, the wreckage charred and smoking.

"What do you want, then?" she asked, fear and confusion twisting in her chest.

"We're not here for you." His tone softened slightly, but there was something unsettling about it—something almost regretful. "I'm sorry for what's about to happen."

Laura's breath hitched.

He motioned to one of the other soldiers, who stepped forward with a rifle.

"Agent 411," he called out, his voice loud and commanding now. "Surrender yourself, and no one else gets hurt." The soldier turned to Laura, his rifle raising ever so slightly. The barrel was pointed at her chest now. "I heard conscripts were meant to protect, be selfless. If you stay in there, this student will get the first bullet," he said, his voice colder now.

"No!" Laura's voice cracked, raising her hands protectively. "Please, don't—"

"Ten seconds," he continued, ignoring her.

Laura's breath came in short, panicked gasps. She could feel the soldiers' focus tightening, their rifles lifting as the seconds ticked away.

His finger hovered near the trigger, and he shifted the barrel downward. The shot cracked through the air, striking the ground inches from her leg.

Laura screamed, throwing herself backward as the dirt kicked up around her. Her hands trembled violently as she stared at the smoking hole, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Enough! Fuck Laura, all you had to do was run." Vanessa's voice rang out.

Laura whipped her head toward the train just as Vanessa appeared at the edge of the opening. Her hands were raised as she climbed down onto the grass. Her boots hit the ground with a dull thud, and she dropped to her knees. Blood soaked through her shirt, but her expression was stoic.

"Let her go."

The soldiers moved in immediately, their rifles trained on her as they formed a tight circle. The soldier stepped forward, his posture rigid as he motioned for one of his men to cuff her.

Vanessa's eyes flicked toward her briefly, a warning look that made Laura freeze.

But as the first soldier reached for her, Vanessa moved.

Her hands shot out, grabbing the soldier's arm and twisting it. He cried out, the rifle slipping from his grasp. She spun to her feet in one fluid motion, driving her elbow into the next soldier's throat before he could react.

The circle erupted into chaos.

The leader barked orders, his rifle snapping upward, but Vanessa was already moving. She ducked low, grabbed the fallen rifle and swung the butt into a soldier's helmet with a crack, sending him sprawling.

Another soldier lunged at her, but she sidestepped and shot out her fist, hitting the side of his jaw from beneath, throwing him off balance.

But there were too many.

The soldier who appeared to be the leader was on her in an instant, his arm locking around her throat. She twisted, slamming her heel into his shin, but his grip didn't loosen. Another soldier grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms as she kicked out wildly.

"Stand down!" the leader barked.

Vanessa froze, her chest heaving as the cold barrel of a rifle pressed against the back of her head.

The leader leaned closer, his voice dropping. "You can fight all you want, but you're not walking away from this."

Vanessa's jaw tightened, her gaze flicking toward Laura, who was watching helplessly from the ground. Slowly, reluctantly, she stopped struggling.

The leader straightened, nodding to his men. "Cuff her."

As the soldiers forced Vanessa to her knees, her eyes locked on Laura's.

"Stay down," Vanessa said softly to Laura.

Laura's head was spinning. If she weren't in so much pain, she would've pinched herself to confirm if it was real. 

****

The soldiers dragged Vanessa toward a helicopter, her knees scraping against the uneven grass. Each jolt sent sharp stabs of pain through her ribs, and she gritted her teeth, fighting to stay upright. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths; her body weakened, but she refused to collapse.

Behind her, the train's wreckage loomed. She craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the teenagers.

She spotted Laura stumbling across the open field. She was heading toward the tree line, her arms swinging awkwardly.

Vanessa's breath hitched a painful rasp that triggered a violent cough. Blood sprayed onto the grass as she turned her head, spitting.

"Move," the soldier to her left ordered, jerking her forward.

The helicopter's blades cut through the air with a deafening roar. The ground vibrated beneath her as they neared, loose grass and dirt swirling in the rotor wash.

They shoved her toward the open bay door, where two more soldiers waited inside. Vanessa's instincts screamed at her to fight, to resist, but her limbs felt sluggish. Her fingers tingled, a faint blue tint creeping over her nails.

The virus.

The leader climbed in behind her, gripping her arm as he pushed her into a seat. She focused on her breathing, slow and deliberate, forcing herself to stay conscious as the edges of her vision swam in and out of focus.

A gloved hand appeared in front of her, holding a syringe. Her heart lurched as she registered the movement, and her mind scrambled to process what was happening.

"No," she rasped, her voice raw and weak. She twisted in her seat, the plastic cuffs tightening as she struggled to pull away.

The needle plunged into her arm before she could break free. Her vision blurred as the chemical hit her bloodstream, but her eyes locked onto the label on the syringe as the soldier pulled it away. The name printed in bold: Madsen.

Vanessa's pulse quickened, her thoughts slicing through the fog with sudden clarity.

Madsen.

This wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. Her stomach twisted as realisation hit. Madicorp and Madsen. They were one and the same.

The train explosion. The soldiers. This wasn't an attack – it was a bounty. This was about her genetic differences.

The helicopter lifted off the ground, the cabin trembling as the rotors churned the air. She clenched her fists tighter, testing the cuffs. The plastic dug into her skin. A surge of heat spread through her body, her muscles tensing as adrenaline stirred within her, fuelling her genetic enhancements. She could feel it—her body shifting gears, preparing for a fight.

Now.

Vanessa's body snapped into motion. Her wrists twisted, the muscles in her forearms flexing as she strained against the cuffs. The plastic stretched and then snapped.

The soldier turned, his eyes widening as he realised what was happening. Before he could react, Vanessa shot forward, driving her shoulder into his chest. He stumbled back, slamming into the wall of the cabin, and his rifle clattered to the floor.

The leader reached for his weapon, but Vanessa was already moving. She grabbed the fallen rifle, swinging it at another soldier, forcing him back.

The helicopter lurched as the pilot shouted.

Vanessa didn't hesitate. She grabbed the edge of the open bay door, the wind whipping against her face as she looked down. Any higher, and she wouldn't be able to escape.

She jumped.

The impact sent a jolt of pain through her body, her legs buckling as she hit the ground hard. The air was knocked from her lungs as she rolled across the uneven grass.

Vanessa lay still for a moment, her fingers digging into the dirt as she struggled to breathe. Her vision blurred, her body trembling with the effort of staying conscious.

The helicopter circled back, casting a shadow across the ground.

Vanessa forced herself to her feet, her steps uneven as she stumbled toward the forest. She glanced over her shoulder as she saw them closing in. The soldiers were on the ground now, gaining momentum.

The forest was the only chance she had of escaping. She crossed the tree line, disappearing into the thick undergrowth.