CHASING SHADOWS

Will's heart hammered in his chest, his breath fogging in quick bursts as they scrambled down the narrow, slick staircase, the handrail barely keeping them balanced as they hurtled downward. Becca's hand was locked in his, her grip slipping as they stumbled onto the main street of the next level.

Pedestrians cast cautious glances their way, but when the cyborgs burst into view at the top of the stairs, those glances turned to panic. Faces pale, people scattered, desperate to avoid being caught in the crossfire of another gang skirmish.

"Move!" Remy barked, his voice cutting through the din.

The trio pushed aside the few remaining gawkers and took off down the rundown streets. Ramshackle buildings flashed by as they ran, smelling of rust and tar. The lower levels were a stark contrast to the slightly more ordered chaos above.

Noise and activity filled the streets, alight with the glow from forges. Smoke billowed out of long stacks from the factories ahead. Will exchanged a glance with Remy and Becca before the trio rushed headfirst into the industrial sector of the level.

Workers shouted, trying to block their way, but they tore through the plant without pause. Will's boots slipped on the uneven ground as they wove through the maze of industrial chaos. He narrowly avoided colliding with a mover carrying a heavy load, drawing curses as he sprinted past.

Gunfire erupted behind them, echoing off the walls. Bullets pinged off Will's field, forcing him to dodge. The cyborgs, hot on their heels, somehow managed to pour round after round into him, forcing Will to duck low as he ran.

"Damn!" Remy cursed. "Do they have a hate boner for you? It's only you they're firing at!"

"Maybe they're sweet on me!" Will retorted breathlessly, his eyes darting around. "Do you see the big one? Their leader?"

"Not yet!"

"Great," Will muttered, his heart pounding. A spray of steam hissed from a nearby machine, and the trio darted through it, using the mist as cover.

Bullets tore through the haze, but most missed their mark as they moved through the shroud.

Shouts of alarm rang out as workers ducked for cover, stray bullets ricocheting off nearby machinery. While the majority missed, a few rounds pinged off Will's field, sending sparks flying. All the while, the relentless footsteps of the cyborgs echoed behind them.

Will's heart thundered in his chest, his ears buzzing faintly as his vision narrowed. Each breath was a struggle, his hands trembling as he ran. Inside him, the yellow signature twisted and writhed, growing harder to control with every step.

Colliding with another worker, Will nearly stumbled but strained to keep pace. The shouts behind him grew louder. Suppressing the raging signature within him took immense effort, and it only seemed to get harder.

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"Don't slow down!" Remy urged.

"Yeah, down... the levels," Will panted, sweat dripping down his face. "We need to go deeper."

Remy cast him a doubtful glance, and Will continued explaining. "The protesters—if we make it to their procession, we can blend in and lose our tail."

Remy hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. "Come on, then."

They rushed out of the workshop into a side alley, gunshots following them all the way. Will's jaw clenched as the yellow signature surged again. It lashed out like a caged animal, and he had trouble holding his arms steady. His pistol shook as he fought to maintain control over his field.

The yellow signature roiled within his channels. Strange skittering sounds filled his ears, and a faint shimmer settled at the edges of his vision. The walls of the side alley seemed to ripple, but the illusion disappeared as soon as he looked directly at it.

Cursing, Will felt through his channels and found the yellow signature spinning threads of psions. He tried to suppress it, but the threads grew finer, more insidious, slipping through his grasp like smoke as they reached out into the distance.

Will cursed under his breath, his step faltering. Remy grabbed him, pulling him forward to keep moving.

"What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

"It's the shard…" Will began, but he stumbled again, nearly sprawling.

Remy caught him before he hit the ground. "Dammit, Will!"

A gunshot cracked, sparks flying as the bullet ricocheted off the walls. Shouts rang out behind them, growing closer as the cyborgs closed in. Another bullet zipped past, and Remy cursed, throwing himself in front of Will to shield him. "Cover him!"

Becca flashed forward, her field shimmering as she deflected the incoming shots. "Come on, Will," she urged, the light returning to her eyes.

"It's in my head," Will gasped, clutching his temples. His hands shook so violently he could barely hold onto his pistol.

"Becca, take his gun!" Remy shouted.

She hesitated but took the pistol all the same.

More gunshots followed them, and Remy returned fire. He and Becca hoisted Will by the arms, dragging him forward as he fought to contain the chaos within him.

Will's field flickered erratically as he began cycling his internal energy at a frantic pace. The yellow signature resisted fiercely, its tendrils extending further and bridging the gap between Will and their pursuers. Vague impressions flickered in his mind, and the cyborgs took the form of chasing shadows. Will gasped; he could feel where they were.

Two groups: one closing in from behind, the other moving to cut them off ahead.

Gritting his teeth, Will cycled his energy even faster. Half-formed visions flashed before his eyes. The skittering noise in his ears grew louder, and dark, multi-legged shapes raced along the shadows.

An incoherent yell escaped Will as he sent a wave of psions crashing through his channels.

The whole world grew darker, taking on a shade of red.

"Will!" Remy shouted, his voice breaking through the haze.

"What?" Will panted.

"You're bleeding from your eyes!"

Will wiped at his face with a trembling hand, his fingers coming away slick with blood. His eyes stung, the pain sharp and blinding.

"Shit," he muttered.

The shard within him was stirring once again.

"At this rate, we're not even going to make it to the procession," said Remy.

"Yeah," Will coughed harshly, nearly doubling over as if he might cough up a lung. "Also, the second group is coming from ahead to cut us off."

Remy glanced forward and noticed signs of commotion up ahead. "Dammit," he cursed.

Will looked at his prosthetic leg. "I could send a pulse to clear out the shard, but…"

"You don't have enough energy left to power the leg," Remy finished for him.

"I'll be a sitting duck," Will said grimly.

"Goose," Remy muttered under his breath. "So, what now?"

"What level is the procession headed to?" Will asked.

"Level six," Remy replied.

"Then we need to make a straight shot to the bottom," Will said and began explaining his plan.

Remy listened intently, nodding as Will spoke, while Becca's eyes grew wider with each passing moment.

When Will finished, Remy nodded firmly. "Alright. You ready?"

Both Will and Becca nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

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