Beep. Beep. Beep.
That insufferable noise clawed at my ears like a rusty fork scraping against a plate. I groaned and yanked the pillow over my head.
"Serena, your alarm—" I mumbled, half-asleep.
But no voice answered back. Only the beeping persisted, relentless.
My eyes peeled open, blinking against the dim light filtering through the heavy hotel curtains. An unfamiliar ceiling stared back at me.
"Oh, right…" I muttered, blinking away the haze. "I'm not with Serena anymore."
I was halfway across the world.
Beep-Beep-Beep.
I dragged myself toward the nightstand, smacking the alarm clock off like it had personally offended me. The time read 5:15 a.m..
Great. Not only had I barely slept, but now I was late—for a job that was probably illegal. Actually, definitely illegal. I groaned, rolling off the bed and onto the cold marble floor with a dramatic thud. The chill shocked me fully awake, but I still lay there like a dead fish for a few moments, contemplating all my life choices that had led to this exact moment.
The "Leader," as I'd mentally dubbed him (since I still didn't know his real name), had very clearly told us to meet at the car by 5:00 sharp. But here I was, fifteen minutes late, and nursing a fresh stubbed toe thanks to the bed's brutal corner. I winced, cradling my foot on the cold floor, resisting the very real urge to scream. After about five minutes of sulking and quiet pain meditation, I finally stood up and limped my way to the bathroom.
Getting dressed felt like putting on someone else's identity. I slipped into the all-black tracksuit we'd been given last night, oversized and bulky, the pants almost dragging on the floor. I folded the cuffs up and tucked in the sleeves to keep them from swallowing my hands. The material was ridiculously warm, almost suffocating, and the matching black ski mask sat awkwardly in the plastic bag I carried, alongside a cap that shaded most of my face.
I looked in the mirror and sighed. "Do I look good? No. I look like a garbage bag with legs."
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head.
"And who exactly would see me like this?" I muttered. "It's not like I know anyone here. Except Serena. And she's a whole ocean away…"
I stared at myself for a long moment. My eyes looked tired, maybe even hollow. There was something about this city—its strange beauty, its mystery, its danger—that was beginning to chip away at me. I wasn't sure if I was losing sleep or losing pieces of myself. But either way, I needed to get this job done and get out.
I shoved my feet into my white chunky platform shoes—yes, a terrible choice for a getaway driver, but they were all I had—and grabbed the ski mask. The air outside my room was cool and quiet. I descended to the lobby, approaching the reception desk with my keycard in hand.
"Checkout for Room 76," I said, trying to sound polite despite the fact I looked like someone on their way to rob a bank.
The receptionist, a neatly dressed woman with a suspiciously cheerful smile, glanced at me. Her eyes did a quick scan of my outfit, but her professional demeanor didn't falter.
"Early checkout," she said, taking the card. "I hope you enjoyed your stay."
"Yeah," I muttered with a tired nod before walking away.
Even the underground parking garage was luxurious—polished floors, gentle lighting, and not a speck of grime in sight. I spotted our SUV in the corner where we'd left it. Leader was standing beside it, arms folded and foot tapping rapidly as I approached.
He gave me a long, exasperated look.
"Sorry, I overslept, stubbed my toe, and then there was a line to return my keycard," I rambled nervously.
He didn't respond. Just shook his head slowly. "Get in. Drive."
I nodded and slipped into the driver's seat. Leader slid into the passenger seat beside me without another word. In the backseat, I could see Bold_Eagle and Man Bun already in place.
Of course. I was the getaway driver now.
I adjusted the mirrors, tightened my grip on the wheel, and followed Leader's directions as we pulled out onto the highway.
"So," I said cautiously, eyes focused on the empty road ahead, "what exactly are we stealing that's worth 200,000 Sivil?"
Leader didn't even blink. "Crimsyn," he said. "A new drug in early development. We're stealing the current demo batches and any research data tied to it. In and out."
Man Bun leaned forward slightly, adding, "We're not even sure if the stuff is real. But if the rumors are true? It's terrifying."
"Rumors?" I echoed.
Bold_Eagle finally spoke, his voice quiet, like he was piecing things together in his own head. "They say Crimsyn gives the user temporary, superhuman strength. The kind of strength you only see in animals that weigh a ton—literally. The strength of a hippopotamus, they say. And it triggers bloodlust."
I almost laughed. Almost. "You're telling me there's a drug that gives people the strength of a hippo? That sounds insane."
"It is insane," Bold_Eagle muttered. "But it's not impossible. Not when it comes to Him."
Leader stiffened at the wheel.
"Who's Him?" I asked slowly, glancing at Leader. "Why can't you say his name?"
"He doesn't need a name," Leader said, staring out at the dark horizon. "You'll know when you see him. Everyone does."
The car fell silent.
I tightened my hands on the steering wheel. The more I learned about this job, the less it felt like a normal heist. And the more I wondered…
What the hell did I just get myself into?