Chapter Content
Kian Voss led the charge, his PDF autogun barking in rhythmic bursts. The "rats" in his path shrieked in terror, scrambling over one another to escape the lead storm. If a group was too slow to scatter, Kian didn't hesitate—two or three controlled bursts, seven or eight bodies on the floor, and the path was clear again.
He turned his head for a fraction of a second. Joel's parents weren't stupid; they were huddled right behind him, the father pushing the mechanical wheelchair with a strength fueled by pure, survivalist adrenaline.
Good, Kian thought. Keep moving. Break the line.
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