Zara and Callum pressed forward through the dense forest, their breaths ragged and uneven. Every step felt heavier, the Syndicate’s relentless pursuit forcing them to push past exhaustion. The faint glow of moonlight illuminated their path, but the shadows danced menacingly, concealing unseen threats.
Callum stumbled again, leaning against a tree. His wounds were taking their toll, and Zara knew he wouldn’t last much longer without rest. She knelt beside him, her eyes scanning their surroundings for signs of pursuit.
“We can’t keep running like this,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “They’ll catch up eventually.”
Zara gritted her teeth. He was right. The Syndicate was organized, well-equipped, and merciless. Their drones would lock onto their heat signatures soon enough, and the foot soldiers weren’t far behind.