Chapter 2

The bell rang, shattering the moment. Doors burst open, and hundreds of teenagers flooded the hallway, a tide of noise and hormones.

Kade grabbed Elara’s arm—gentler than he grabbed the jock, but firm—and dragged her into the janitor’s closet. He locked the door and flicked on the single, buzzing bulb.

"You're dead," Kade said. His voice was shaking. "I saw them take you to the Pit. Nobody came back from the Pit."

"I dug my way out," Elara said simply. She pulled her arm free and adjusted her backpack straps. "It took me three days. When I got back to the barracks, you were gone. They said you ran during the perimeter breach."

"I thought you were dead," Kade repeated, the guilt hitting him like a physical blow. It was his internal wound, the festering sore that made him hate the world. He had escaped, but he had left his unit behind. "I... I would have come back."

"It doesn't matter," Elara said. She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a heavy, encrypted hard drive. "I didn't come here for a reunion, Kade. I came because you're the only one who knows the layout of the Northern Sector."

Kade stared at the drive. "What is that?"

"The Ash Protocol," she said. "It’s the master list. Every feeder school, every sleeper agent, every camp location. I stole it from the Camp Master’s private server."

Kade felt the blood drain from his face. "You stole from the Master? Are you insane? They'll hunt you to the ends of the earth."

"They're already here," Elara said. "Those jocks? They aren't just bullies. They're spotters. This school... Blackridge isn't just a school, Kade. It's a farm. They watch the local wolf populations, tag the strong ones, and ship them to the camps when they turn eighteen."

Kade backed up, hitting the shelves of cleaning supplies. "No. No way. I've been here for two years. It's quiet."

"It's quiet because you keep your head down," Elara countered. "I need your help. I need to get this drive to a contact in Seattle. The Enforcers."

"I'm not a soldier anymore," Kade snapped, the grumpiness rising as a defense mechanism. "I fix cars. I eat terrible cafeteria pizza. I don't do missions."

"You never stopped being a soldier," Elara said softly. "You just stopped fighting back."

She unlocked the door. "I have Chemistry next. Try not to let them kill me before lunch."

She slipped out.

Kade stood in the closet, smelling the bleach and the lingering scent of her fear. He punched the concrete wall, his knuckles splitting. Then he grabbed his bag and followed her.

\---

The attack happened during third period.

Kade was sitting in the back of the Chemistry lab, pretending to read a textbook while watching Elara three rows ahead. She was partnered with a nervous human girl, mixing solutions.

The room smelled of sulfur and Bunsen burners.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Two men in maintenance uniforms walked in. They were too old to be students, too fit to be janitors. They wore hats pulled low.

Kade’s wolf snarled. *Enforcers.*

One of the men locked the classroom door. The other pulled a canister from his belt and tossed it into the center of the room.

*HISS.*

Thick, white smoke erupted, filling the room instantly. Students screamed. Desks were overturned.

"Grab the girl!" a voice shouted.

Kade didn't need to see. He could hear. He could smell.

He vaulted over his desk, holding his breath. He tracked Elara’s scent—amber and terror.

He felt a hand grab him in the smoke. Kade grabbed the wrist, twisted, and heard a snap. He didn't stop to check who it was. He plowed forward, shoulder-checking a body that felt like a brick wall.

"Elara!" he roared.

"Here!" Her voice came from the floor.

Kade dropped low. He found her arm. He yanked her up.

"Window!" he ordered.

He grabbed a heavy lab stool and hurled it through the plate-glass window. The glass shattered outward into the courtyard. The rain blew in, cutting the smoke.

"Go!"

Elara scrambled out the window. Kade followed, just as a taser probe zipped past his ear, embedding itself in the drywall.

They landed in the mud of the courtyard. The fire alarm was blaring now.

"My truck," Kade gasped, grabbing her hand. "Auto shop. Now."

They ran. They didn't look like students cutting class. They looked like what they were—fugitives running for their lives.

\---