Chapter 3
1629 Words
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*Chapter 3 - The Train*
The train screamed into the station and the doors gasped open.
Damian shoved me inside before I could think. We stumbled into a half-empty car that smelled like wet metal and old coffee. Rain dripped from our jackets onto the floor and made dark puddles at our feet.
He didn’t sit. Not yet. He stood in front of me, blocking the view from the windows, eyes scanning every corner like he expected the Vant to step through the doors with guns already raised.
A woman with groceries glanced at us and quickly looked away. A guy in a hoodie had his phone out. Recording? Calling someone?
Damian’s whole body was tense.
Only when the train lurched forward and the doors slid shut did he finally exhale.
“Seats,” he muttered.
We slid into the plastic chairs at the very back. Away from the cameras. Away from the doors. The USB was still in my hand. I’d been holding it so tight my palm had a red imprint.
For a long time neither of us talked. The train rattled through dark tunnels. Stations flashed by in streaks of yellow light. People got on and off and never looked at us twice.
I should’ve felt safe. I didn’t. My heart was still beating like I’d just finished a 4-hour set.
Finally I broke.
“Are we being followed?”
Damian glanced up. His hair was still wet. Water dripped down his temple. “Not yet. They’ll check the traffic cams first. Then the club’s cameras. Then the subway. It’ll take them 20 minutes to figure out we went underground.”
“Then we have 20 minutes.”
He nodded. And looked down at the USB in my hand. “Give it to me.”
I pulled it closer to my chest on instinct. “Why? So you can disappear with it too? So you can be the hero and I’m just the girl who found it?”
Damian’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Almost. “So I can get us killed faster? No. So I can see what’s on it before they decrypt it remotely and wipe it.”
“They can do that?” My stomach dropped.
“They can do a lot of things.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cheap burner phone and a small black device. Looked like a USB reader. Nothing fancy. “This is air-gapped. Nothing gets in or out. No wifi. No bluetooth. Give it here, Ava.”
I hesitated. This was the only thing keeping me alive. And also the reason I was running.
Then I dropped the drive into his hand.
The moment he plugged it in, the blue light steadied. No more pulsing. It looked almost calm. Like it had been waiting for him.
Damian’s face went blank as he scrolled. Then pale. Then furious. His jaw worked like he was grinding his teeth.
“What is it?” I whispered. “What’s on it?”
He didn’t answer for a full minute. Just kept scrolling.
Then he turned the screen toward me.
Spreadsheets. Bank transfers. Photos. Videos. Wire receipts with VexCorp letterhead.
My father’s signature on half of them. No. Not my father. His father.
Contracts. Bribes. Names of politicians. Names of cops.
And one folder at the very bottom. Labeled: `PROJECT NIGHTFALL`
Damian clicked it.
Inside was a single document.
`Asset Acquisition: City Grid, Ports, Media. Phase 1 Complete. Phase 2: Acquire and Silence All Leaks.`
And underneath, a list of names.
The first name was mine. `Ava Reyes. DJ. Witness. Status: Contain.`
Below mine: `Damian Vex. Son. Traitor. Status: Retrieve.`
I felt sick. The car tilted. “Contain. That means—”
“That means they’re not here to arrest you,” Damian said quietly. “They’re here to make sure you never talk. Ever.”
I stared at my name on the screen. Typed. Official. Like I was already dead.
“How long have you known?” I asked. My voice was barely there.
Damian pocketed the USB reader and shoved the burner away. “A year. Since I started collecting this. Since I realized my dad wasn’t just corrupt. He was building something.”
“Project Nightfall.”
He nodded. “Buy the city. Control everything. And if anyone finds out, erase them.”
The train slowed. Lights outside. Next stop.
Damian yanked the USB out and pocketed it in an inside pocket, close to his heart. “We can’t stay on this line. They’ll track the metro card I used to buy this ticket.”
“I don’t have a metro card,” I said dumbly.
“I bought two.” He stood and held out his hand. “We get off at the next stop. Car’s waiting.”
I didn’t take his hand. “Whose car?”
“Mine.”
I laughed. It came out wrong. Sharp. “Right. The billionaire’s son has a car waiting. At 2:30 AM. In the rain.”
Damian didn’t laugh back. “Not my dad’s car. Mine. The one I bought with DJ money. Before all this.”
DJ money. He used to DJ too.
That fact hit me harder than the hit list.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“When?” He gestured around the empty car. “When we were running? When they were at your door?”
“Fair.”
We got off at the next stop. The platform was empty except for a janitor and the sound of water dripping.
Damian led me up the stairs two at a time. Out into the rain again. The city looked different at this hour. Emptier. Sharper.
A black car was idling at the curb. Not a VexCorp car. Just a regular sedan. A little beat up.
Damian opened the passenger door for me.
“Is this safe?” I asked before getting in.
“No,” he said honestly. “But it’s safer than staying here.”
I got in. The car smelled like leather and old cigarettes and something else. Him.
Damian slid into the driver’s seat and didn’t start the engine right away. He just sat there, hands on the wheel, staring at the windshield.
“Talk to me,” I said finally.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why me? Why did you pick me to hand this to? Or did you?”
Damian turned to me. Rain ran down the window behind him. “I didn’t pick you. I didn’t pick anyone. I left the drive because I was being followed. I thought if I dropped it, I could come back later.”
“And then I picked it up.”
“And then you picked it up.” He looked down. “I’m sorry, Ava.”
That was the first time he’d said my name like that. Soft. Like it hurt.
“I could’ve left it,” I said. “I could’ve walked away from the booth.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
We sat in silence. The wipers made a slow sound against the rain.
My phone buzzed.
I almost threw it out the window.
Unknown number.
`You had a choice. You chose wrong. -V`
Damian saw it over my shoulder. His jaw clenched. “They know we’re in a car. They’re watching the streets.”
“Change of plans?” I asked, even though I already knew.
“Change of plans,” he said. “We don’t go to my penthouse. Too obvious.”
“Then where?”
Damian started the engine. “Somewhere they’ll never look. Somewhere I haven’t been in 3 years.”
He pulled away from the curb. Slow. Careful. Checking mirrors every 5 seconds.
“Where?” I asked again.
Damian glanced at me. And for the first time tonight, he looked almost young.
“My mom’s old studio. Above the record shop. In the district they tore down.”
“The ghost district?”
He nodded. “No cameras. No VexCorp. No one.”
We drove. The city blurred past. Wet streets. Empty signs. The occasional siren in the distance.
Halfway there, Damian reached over and turned on the radio. Low. Some old jazz song.
“Why jazz?” I asked.
“Because my mom liked it.” He said it simply. “She died 3 years ago. Car accident. Right after I told her what my dad was doing.”
Oh.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be.” He kept his eyes on the road. “She’d have liked you.”
The words landed weird in my chest.
We pulled up to a dark street 20 minutes later. Boarded windows. Graffiti. The record shop sign was half-fallen. `VINYL & SOUL`.
Damian killed the lights and the engine.
“We’re here,” he said.
I looked up. Second floor. One window with a dim light.
“Is anyone up there?”
“Maybe.” Damian got out and came around to my side. Opened my door. “Come on.”
We ran through the rain to the back entrance. He had a key.
Inside, it smelled like dust and vinyl and memories.
Damian locked the door behind us. Then the second lock. Then pushed a chair under the knob.
Only then did he turn to me.
We were safe. For now.
The USB was in his pocket. My name was on a list. And somewhere across the city, the Vant were knocking on an empty apartment.
Damian ran a hand through his wet hair and looked at me.
“Welcome to the run,” he said again. But this time it sounded different.
This time it sounded like a promise.
- Writer
