The city had already plunged into the deep quiet of night by the time Nathan Reed arrived at Dr. Evelyn Black's last known location. A few hours had passed since his frantic departure from SynTech's headquarters, yet the disarray in his mind remained constant. As he parked his car, the streetlamps flickered ominously, their dim light casting long shadows across the empty alleyways of the industrial district. This part of the city, far removed from SynTech's sleek skyscrapers and gleaming corporate façade, was a labyrinth of forgotten warehouses and abandoned buildings—once the beating heart of industry, now little more than a husk of its former self.
Nathan stood for a moment by his car, breathing in the cold, damp air that clung to his skin. His breath fogged in front of him, the chill seeping through his jacket and into his bones. He glanced around, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of movement, any indication that Evelyn was nearby. But the streets were empty, the only sound the distant hum of traffic from the highway and the occasional rustle of wind through the trash-strewn alleys.
Evelyn Black's apartment was hidden away in a nondescript, worn-down building. It looked abandoned at first glance, but Nathan knew better. She had always been a recluse, even when she worked at SynTech. Her obsession with her work had consumed her to the point that she often disappeared for days at a time, holed up in her lab or some dingy apartment, working tirelessly on whatever scientific mystery had captured her attention. She had always been brilliant, but also paranoid, mistrusting of others—traits that seemed justified now, considering the dangerous situation they found themselves in.
Nathan pulled up the hood of his jacket and walked quickly toward the entrance, the soles of his shoes splashing through shallow puddles. As he approached the door, he noticed that the building's intercom system was cracked, barely functional. He pressed the button for Evelyn's apartment and waited, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no response. He tried again, pressing the button harder this time, but still, nothing.
A sinking feeling settled in his stomach.
"Damn it, Evelyn," he muttered under his breath, glancing up at the dark windows above. "Where the hell are you?"
Just as he was about to try the door handle, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye—a flash of motion in the shadows at the end of the street. He turned sharply, his instincts honed from years of working in high-stakes negotiations and corporate warfare. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him pause. Was someone watching him? The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he scanned the alleyway, his eyes narrowing.
For a moment, nothing happened. The street remained quiet, still. Then, he saw it again—a figure slipping into the darkness, barely visible, but enough to make Nathan's heart race. Someone was following him. He didn't know who, but after Arthur's murder, paranoia was beginning to feel more like self-preservation.
Without a second thought, Nathan turned away from the door and started walking briskly down the sidewalk, heading toward the end of the block. His mind raced. If someone was watching him, it meant they were already one step ahead—possibly the same person or group responsible for Arthur's death. Were they here for him now? Or were they tracking Evelyn, hoping to use him to find her?
Nathan rounded the corner at the end of the street, his pulse quickening. The alleyway ahead was narrow and dark, the only light coming from a flickering bulb above a boarded-up doorway. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to keep moving or find a place to hide. But before he could make up his mind, he heard footsteps—soft but deliberate—echoing from behind him.
Panic surged through him, and without thinking, he darted into the alley, his feet moving quickly as he sought cover. The space between the buildings was cramped, lined with dumpsters and discarded crates, but it offered some concealment. He pressed his back against the cold, rough brick wall, his breathing shallow as he listened for the footsteps again.
