Chapter 2 — The Chase
Layna
The faint hum of the city streetlights had always been a comfort to Layna, their muted glow filtering through the crack in her apartment’s blackout curtains. Tonight, though, the shadows felt alive, shifting with intent, their serrated edges slicing through her serenity. The apartment felt colder—an invasive, creeping chill that seeped beneath her skin.
She adjusted her headphones and leaned into the soft glow of her laptop screen. Her fingers danced across the keyboard in a relentless rhythm, decrypting the cascading lines of code filling the monitor. The Raven USB drive protruded from the side, its faint LED pulsing like a heartbeat in the dark. She was close—so close. Each line of code brought her nearer to uncovering her mother’s secrets, the fragmented data like breadcrumbs left behind in the labyrinth her mother had constructed.
The questions roared louder in her mind with every keystroke. What had her mother been hiding? Why had she disappeared? Was it to protect her, or was it something darker? Layna’s shoulders tensed, her breath shallow as she dismissed her doubts and focused on the task. But the prickling unease at the nape of her neck refused to fade, a whisper of danger she couldn’t quite ignore.
Then she saw it. A flicker—small, almost imperceptible—in the upper corner of her screen. A red dot against the black backdrop. Her fingers froze mid-keystroke, and her breath hitched in her throat.
The dot didn’t belong there. This wasn’t a glitch. Someone was pinging her network.
Her pulse spiked. She yanked her headphones off, the sudden silence amplifying the thudding in her ears. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, rerouting her signal and deploying countermeasures. Each movement was precise, calculated, but the red dot followed her every move. She cursed under her breath. Whoever was tracking her wasn’t just good—they were relentless.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, vibrating against the wood in a sharp, staccato rhythm. Once. Twice. Three times. Layna’s eyes darted to the screen. *Unknown Number.*
Her stomach churned, but her curiosity gnawed at her hesitation. What if it was connected to her mother? What if ignoring it meant losing a lead? Her trembling hand hovered over the phone before she pressed the green button.
“You’ve been digging where you don’t belong, Layna.”
The voice was smooth, controlled, and carried a quiet menace that made her blood turn to ice. There was no doubt—they knew her. They’d been watching her. She gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles whitening.
“Funny, you sound like a telemarketer,” she shot back, her tone biting despite the fear clawing at her chest. “I’m not buying.”
She ended the call before the person could respond, her heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst. She had no time to dwell on the implications of the call. A soft, metallic *click* echoed through the apartment. The sound made her freeze, every muscle in her body locking in place.
Her door. Her *front door*. It was opening.
Layna bolted upright, the screech of her chair against the hardwood floor cutting through the oppressive silence. The door swung ajar, spilling a wedge of darkness into her apartment. The shadows stretched and twisted, swallowing the faint light until only her ragged breathing and the thudding of her heart remained.
She moved quickly, yanking the Raven USB drive from the laptop and sliding it into the hidden pocket of her hoodie. Her mind raced, cataloging her options. No time to call for help. No weapons within reach. The apartment felt like a trap, every exit suddenly miles away. She shut the laptop, plunging the room into a suffocating darkness.
The footsteps began. Slow, deliberate. Each step resonated like a countdown, slicing through the silence. They stopped just outside her bedroom door. Whoever they were, they were listening.
Layna acted on instinct. She darted toward the closet, slipping inside and pressing herself against the wall. The door creaked faintly, but her movements were swift and quiet. She wedged herself between a row of jackets, her knees drawn to her chest as her breath came in shallow bursts. The space smelled of old leather and dust, the air thick and stifling.
The bedroom door opened.
Through the slats, she saw a shadow stretch across the room—a tall figure, deliberate and unhurried. He moved like a predator that knew his prey was cornered. Layna’s lungs burned as she forced herself to stay silent, her fingers clutching the edge of the closet wall. Her heart thudded painfully, each beat counting down the seconds until he found her.
The man crossed the room with methodical precision. His gloved hands hovered over her desk, brushing against the closed laptop. He lingered there, his posture unnervingly calm, as though he were savoring the moment. His head tilted slightly, and Layna could almost feel him listening for her.
Her thumb brushed against her phone, still tucked into her hoodie. With painstaking care, she opened her custom security app and tapped the screen twice. The silent alarm activated, initiating a sixty-second countdown. The faint glow of the phone was too much in the darkness, so she pressed it against her chest, her breath refusing to steady.
The man turned abruptly, his movements sharper now. He crossed to the bed in two long strides, kneeling to check beneath it. Layna bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. Whoever had sent him wasn’t here to scare her—they wanted something. They wanted the USB drive.
The timer hit zero.
The apartment was plunged into blackness. The city grid outside, too, flickered and died, swallowing the world in a suffocating void. Layna didn’t hesitate. She shoved the closet door open and hurled herself forward, slamming into the man with all the force her small frame could muster. He staggered back, a surprised grunt escaping him, but his hand shot out like a viper, grabbing hold of her hoodie.
Layna twisted violently, the fabric tearing as she ripped herself free. Her bare feet hit the floor, and she bolted. The hall beyond her bedroom was a corridor of shifting shadows, the faintest glow of emergency lights casting jagged patterns on the walls. Her destination was clear: the fire escape.
“Don’t let her get away!” a voice barked behind her, sharp and commanding.
The urgency in the man’s tone sent a fresh wave of adrenaline crashing through her. She reached the window at the end of the hall, her fingers fumbling with the latch. The fire escape groaned beneath her weight as she climbed down, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The city sprawled beneath her, cold and indifferent, its neon lights fractured in the rain-slicked asphalt below.
Her feet hit the ground hard, jolting her knees. She darted into the nearest alley, her shoulders brushing against damp brick walls as she ran. The USB drive pressed into her side with every step—a cruel reminder of why they were chasing her.
Shadows loomed ahead. Two figures emerged from the darkness, their faces obscured but their intent unmistakable. She skidded to a halt, her gaze darting back. More footsteps. Trapped.
“End of the line,” one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.
Ignoring the panic clawing at her chest, Layna’s eyes flicked to the dumpster beside her. Without hesitation, she yanked the lid open and dove inside, the stench of rotting refuse burning her throat. She pulled the lid shut just as her pursuers rounded the corner.
“She couldn’t have gone far!” one barked.
Layna pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle her breathing, her chest heaving in silent agony. The voices grew distant, their footsteps scattering into the night. It wasn’t until the faint wail of a siren broke the silence that she dared to move.
Her legs trembled as she climbed out of the dumpster, her hoodie soaked with sweat and filth. The USB drive was still in her pocket, untouched. She was alive.
The city loomed around her, vast and unfeeling. Layna’s lips tightened into a grim line as she straightened her shoulders. Whoever they were, they hadn’t just underestimated her—they’d underestimated how far she was willing to go to find the truth. That was their first mistake.
It wouldn’t be their last.
