I gripped a heavy metal flashlight from the desk, my hands shaking so hard the metal rattled.

We rushed out of the secure room into the dark, damp concrete corridor.

The smell of wet earth and burnt gunpowder filled the narrow hallway.

Ahead of us, the sound of rapid gunfire echoed through the underground tunnels.

I ran as fast as I could, my boots splashing through shallow puddles of cold water.

“They are in the nursery hallway!” Marcus yelled, pointing his flashlight forward.

The beam of light cut through the dust, revealing a man in black tactical gear.

He stepped out from a side door, raising a rifle toward us.

Isabella fired twice without stopping, her face expressionless.

The man fell backward, his weapon clattering loudly against the concrete floor.

We scrambled past him, turning a sharp corner into the nursery wing.

The heavy steel door to the children’s room was dented, smoke pouring from the edges.

“Adrian!” I screamed, my voice cracking.

“Inside!” a voice called out through the haze.

The door swung open, and Adrian emerged, his tactical vest covered in white plaster dust.