Panic clawed under Sofia’s damp skin, and her sweat beaded and flew from her forehead every time she swiveled to listen for her pursuer. She lurched left as the wall against her fingertips vanished into nothingness.

Sofia paused, unsure which way to go.

Jax clicked on his flashlight, and the glow splashed her dim shadow across the floor in front of her. She bit back a gasp as she stepped around the corner and flattened her body against the painted cinderblock.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Jax drawled into the humid air. His voice echoed through the hall, which extended at least 30 feet wide.

Sofia watched him saunter down the massive walkway, casually panning the light across his path. Her throat squeezed closed as he drew closer.

“Hey, babe!” he shouted. “Whadaya call a mouse in a maze?” The flashlight beam cut through the darkness. If he turned, he would see her.

Stars spotted Sofia’s vision, and she realized she wasn’t breathing. No, she couldn’t breathe. A fresh wave of panic crashed into her like a rogue wave, and she doubled over. Nausea followed close behind and she swayed, lightheaded. Breathe, breathe, BREATHE! She commanded her body.

Without warning, her throat opened, and she gasped a hoarse inhale. The thin flashlight instantly snapped to the sound, and Jax let out a menacing chuckle. “Gotcha.”

They both moved at the same instant. Sofia dropped her shoes and fled into the side hall. Adrenaline masked the pain from her injuries as she focused on one thing: survival.

Marcus gazed down at Bella and stroked wispy baby hair from her sticky forehead. She nestled against him, cheek squished against his chest, and slept soundly. Matty lay on the sofa to his left, snoring quietly, a skinny arm draped over his face.

Esme had gone silent just as the baby fell asleep, and worry tightened Marcus’s middle. Fitz sat in an armchair across from Matty, fingers laced on his belly, head on a cushion, eyes shut.

Carefully, Marcus eased Bella to her back on the sofa. She let out a high-pitched moan, rolled over, and then stilled.

He stood and braced his lower spine, rolled his shoulders, and stretched. His bare feet made no sound on the tile while he crept toward the bedroom. He eased it open, and saw Esme on the bed, in the same position they’d left her.

She was breathing too fast. He padded over the soft carpet and kneeled at the bedside.

“Es?”

She confirmed her consciousness with a weak grunt.

“How bad? Gimme a number.” They had often joked about their patients’ exasperation at the pain ranking system standard across all American health systems.

“15,” she whispered, and a breathy chuckle escaped her pale lips.

Marcus smirked. People reported a 15/10 pain level pretty often, but he believed his wife.

“I need to check you over.”

Another grunt.

He stood and placed his ear on Esme’s chest and listened to her lungs. Her right side was clear, but he heard crackles in the base of the left, which sounded like a few hairs rubbed together next to an ear. It meant she had fluid in that lung. Not good.

Marcus moved his attention to her torso and lifted her t-shirt. His jaw clenched. Dark purple and yellow bruising covered the right side of her abdomen. Maybe internal bleeding.

Finally, he moved to her legs. Wounds slashed and dotted along her skin, but he could see no protruding bones. Swelling inflated both lower limbs, and the skin became increasingly gray from knees to toes. Marcus’s hand trembled as he placed the pads of his pointer and middle fingers on the top of her foot to check for a pedal pulse. As soon as he touched her, she drew in a sharp breath and exhaled a curse through clenched teeth.

“Sorry,” Marcus muttered.

“Pulses?”

Marcus shook his head. “I can’t feel any.”

Esme nodded curtly.

“Can I get you anything? Water?”

“Is there any?”

“A little. I’ll grab it.”

When Marcus returned with a bottle and straw, he saw wet rivulets carved a path from the corners of Esme’s eyes to the pillow.

“Here, sip,” Marcus said and touched the straw to her lips. “Do you need the bathroom?”

Esme ground out a desolate laugh. “Yeah, right.” She paused. “I haven’t had to go, anyway.”

Marcus frowned at that, but bit back a comment. Esme knew her symptoms and knew what they could mean—she didn’t want to hear it from him.

Fitz sat up when Marcus emerged and watched him walk heavily toward the sofa.

“What’s the news?” he asked.

“Not great. I have to get her to a hospital. Her legs aren’t perfusing.”

“Aren’t per–what? I’m a bit rusty on my medical terms.”

“Her blood can’t reach her feet. If she doesn’t get help soon, she’ll lose them.”

Fitz blew a harsh breath through pursed lips and unclipped the radio from his belt. He adjusted a knob on the top and it screeched to life. “Can anyone read me? This is Adam Fitzpatrick, Captain, Ladder 32. I have four civilians in the Sundial condominium complex. One with serious injuries. Need immediate evac. Over.”

Static punctuated the silence for thirty seconds before Fitz repeated the message. After his fourth attempt, he turned it off. “We’ll keep trying,” he said.

“Shouldn’t we keep it on?” Marcus asked.

Fitz shook his head. “Don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here. Best to save the battery.”

After a moment of quiet, Matty stirred and stretched. He sat up and peered at Marcus through bleary eyes.

“Hey, bud. Doin’ ok?”

Matty frowned. “My head hurts.”

“I bet it does. We just had a pretty big adventure, didn’t we?”

The boy’s frown deepened, but he nodded.

“I guess we’re still in the middle of the adventure,” Marcus mused.

“I don’t like advennures,” Matty said.

Marcus quirked a smile at him. “Advennures?”

“Why are you all fuzzy, Daddy?” Matty asked. Then he vomited onto the floor.

Sofia slammed through the closest door, noise no longer a concern.

Jax’s laughter boomed as he gave chase.

Sophia barely registered the cavernous industrial kitchen as she darted past hanging pots, rows of cold burners, and stacks of ovens. She skidded around a corner, her heart slammed into her sternum like a bass drum, and she spied a row of gleaming knives along the wall to her right.

Her fingers brushed an enormous meat cleaver as she considered the potential weapons, but sudden silence filled her with dread and she quickly snatched a smaller paring knife and resumed her flight.

Just past a row of deep steel sinks, another exit beckoned. She pushed through and glanced back. Jax’s light flickered from over the gleaming surfaces, and she eased the heavy door shut. The next room was a staff break area, with lockers lining one side, a cheap microwave in the corner, and a small TV bolted up high.

She eyed the lockers, but quickly dismissed the idea. He would check them. Still… She darted to the lockers. The metal reverberated as she opened and closed a few. If he has to check them all, it might slow him down.

An exit light shone from the other end of the room. Sofia ran to it and slunk through. More exit lights bathed a narrow hallway in an eerie red hue, but she was thankful not to be blind.

Metal slammed against metal as Jax began his search through the break room. Sofia studied her options. At least 10 doors peppered this passage. Good. She darted down the hall, chose one at random, and peeked inside. A gym—all mirrors and open spaces. Nope.

The next led into a small auditorium, with sloped floors leading up to another exit above her. She sprinted up the rise and darted out in silence.

Sofia paused. She couldn’t hear him anymore or see his flashlight. Where am I? The space felt cozy, with sofas, ottomans, and small tables arranged in groups. A waiting room, but…extra. A counter covered the far wall, with a row of cabinets underneath.

She bit her lip, terrified of making the wrong choice. The soft leather sofas looked so inviting, the ottomans were bigger but similar to the blocky plush version in their living room at home, that opened for storage…

Her breaths came faster as she ran to it and lifted the lid. Empty.

“Sofiiiiiiaaaaaa,” Jax’s singsong voice was getting closer. “Come out, come out wherever you aaaare.”

She needed a break; had to take the chance. Sofia crawled inside and lowered the lid over her. A heavy blanket of pitch black settled over her.

“I’m getting bored with this.” Jax’s muffled voice filtered through the padded top of her hiding spot.

Seconds ticked by in rhythm with Sofia’s terrified breaths. And then she heard him, louder. Too loud.

“You’re a real pain in my ass! And I’m gonna show you how to chill.”