Carolina Moon

Industrial Labyrinth: Tess

The moment the heavy iron door clanged shut behind us, the world turned pitch black. I could smell damp concrete and copper as we were swallowed by a heat that felt unnatural. It wasn’t the warmth of a furnace, but the radiating energy of high-voltage machinery working at its limit.

My hand tightened in K.C.’s — not out of fear, I wasn’t afraid, but due to the simple fact that I couldn’t see even an inch in front of me. His thumb pressed against my hand for just a second, a grounding reassurance that he was still at my side. As I adjusted to the heat and the darkness, I could feel Marcus’s presence behind us, his breath blowing softly against the top of my hair.

I could feel the tension in K.C.’s body as we moved down the stairs. He was vibrating with a suppressed energy, his movements stiff as he navigated us through the dark. His and Marcus’s eyes were glowing pinpricks of amber light. “Watch your step, the bottom one’s cracked,” he whispered.

“Easier said than done,” I replied, my voice just as low. My free hand was on the wall next to me, as I was guided down. I felt K.C.’s hand on my waist as I reached the bottom, keeping me steady as I stepped past the broken stair.

At the bottom landing, there was a second security door. It was a modern brushed-steel slab, entirely out of place in this old basement, that reflected K.C. and Marcus’s eyes in its metal. There was a biometric scanner and a keypad glowing with a menacing blue light.

I could hear Marcus moving in the dark. He didn’t even have to be told, he just naturally took up a defensive position at the bottom of the stairs, leveling his side-arm at the dark corridor.

I didn’t wait for a prompt either. I knelt in front of the door and opened my laptop. “It’s a localized circuit,” I whispered. “They aren’t just locking us out, they’re monitoring the pressure on the doorframe.”

I needed to bypass the physical security without triggering the failsafe that would alert the tactical teams upstairs. I used the modified script Leon had helped me with, my fingers flying over the keys in the dim glow of the screen.

The blue light turned green with a small beep that seemed to echo in the dark. Then the door latch slid back with a click, and we were in. We pushed it open, the air in the room was pushed out with a soft hiss, and I felt a new wave of uneasiness wash over me.

The server room was a clean, modern environment carved out of the old basement. Dozens of black towers were stacked in racks, their cooling fans screaming with a high-pitched whine. In the center of the room was a master console. On the monitors, there was a digital map of Cypress Hollow and the surrounding area. It was covered in tiny gold pings. Every werewolf in Wrenford County had already been “tagged” by the static frequency.

I saw a primary ping in the center of the map, labeled Primary Asset: Alpha 01. It was glowing brighter than the others. I realized Stroud wasn’t just searching for and tracking wolves. He was tracking K.C.’s signature, specifically.

I didn’t hesitate anymore. I was fueled by a new anger and a territorial possessiveness that almost felt inhuman. I plugged my USB drive into the master terminal. “I need sixty seconds,” I told K.C.

The system didn’t just accept the drive. That would’ve been too easy. Too convenient. Instead, a warning flashed on the screen: Unauthorized Access Detected. Initiating Countermeasures.

A low-frequency alarm began to pulse inside the room that even I could feel. It was like a heavy bass in one of the eighties goth songs that played on a loop at Rebel Rose. There was no sound, just a heavy feeling that made the server racks rattle. I looked at K.C. His eyes were fully gold now. He was struggling to stay human as the room’s frequency changed to a hostile pitch that was designed to force a violent shift.

Outside the doorway to the server room, I heard Marcus’s gun hit the tile floor with a clatter. He let out an agonizing groan as he fell to one knee, trying to fight off the shift. Beyond him, I heard the heavy thud of boots on the stairs. The mercenaries were coming. “We’re out of time, Alpha,” Marcus gasped, gripping the doorframe.

I ignored the chaos, focusing entirely on the screen. I was searching for the work-around. The killswitch for the pulse, or a way to fry the systems. “Just a few more seconds,” I urged, even as the heat made the air in the room feel thin.

I looked at K.C., then at Marcus. They both had their teeth bared, and Marcus’s elongating claws were digging into the wall along the edge of the doorframe, scraping against paint and cement block. The sound of footsteps were getting closer, and I could hear the static of radios as commands were given.

I hit the final Execute command on the computer.