Under The Radar

Chapter 3: Into The Web

Her breath quickened as the weight of what she'd done settled in. The once comfortable stillness of her room now felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind outside, seemed to carry an ominous weight. The sensation of being watched crawled deeper into her skin, her paranoia thickening with every passing second.

I need to get out of here.

Without wasting another moment, Casey shoved the phone into her jacket pocket and grabbed the nearest bag, stuffing it with essentials in a flurry of shaky hands. She couldn't stay—not now—not when whoever, or whatever, had been tracking her father was now tracking her.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she bolted out the door, not daring to look back at the darkened room behind her. The quiet safety of her space was gone, replaced with an urgent need to disappear before they could close in. The crisp night air hit her face as she sprinted down the street, her mind racing just as fast.

What the hell did I just get myself into?

Casey's feet hit the pavement, the sound of her hurried steps swallowed by the cacophony of the city at night. The streets of San Francisco were alive with the usual buzz—car horns, chatter, distant music—but all of it felt like a blur to her. The noise, the lights, the people, none of it registered fully. All she could focus on was the growing sense of dread that clung to her, like a shadow she couldn't shake.

She ducked into an alley, her breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes darting around, scanning every nook and cranny as if someone might leap out at her. Her thoughts raced, piecing together fragments of what had just happened. Her father's erratic warnings, the encrypted file, the camera flickering on—it all screamed one thing: she was in danger. Real, tangible danger.

The unease twisted tighter in her gut. How many times had her dad mentioned the people he was mixed up with? Powerful people. Invisible, but everywhere.

They'll be watching... listening...

Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, like a constant reminder of the mess she had just stumbled into. It could be tracking me right now. The thought gnawed at her, but she couldn't bring herself to turn it off, much less throw it away. Not yet. She still needed it—and for all she knew, it was her last link to understanding what the hell her dad had been up to.

Glancing around the alley, she scanned for anyone suspicious—a shadow in the distance, a figure lingering too long. Nothing. Just dumpsters, graffiti, and the faint smell of gasoline mixing with the distant food carts. The ordinary made her feel crazier, like her paranoia had gotten the better of her.

"Calm down," she muttered to herself, but there was no calming down. Her skin tingled with the sensation that someone was watching, a pair of eyes tracing her every move from afar. She needed to move. Keep moving. But to where?

She pushed out into the main street, her eyes locking onto every stranger she passed. A man with sunglasses—at night. A woman with her phone held just a little too high, as if recording. She wasn't sure anymore who was just part of the crowd and who might be part of... them.

Casey turned onto another block, quickening her pace. Every nerve in her body screamed that she was being followed. Maybe they were already tracking her movements. Maybe they had a file on her just like they had on her dad. Was this how he felt all the time?

She crossed the street without looking, nearly colliding with a bike messenger who swore at her as he veered past. Her pulse spiked as her eyes flicked to every moving figure around her, trying to make sense of the chaos. How did they find me so fast? How far had they gone to track her?