The library was cloaked in shadows, the rows of bookshelves stretching endlessly into the dimness. The group moved with hushed urgency, each step careful and deliberate. Baihe's hand still clung to my arm, her trembling fingers a testament to the fear simmering among us. Yike led the way, his movements precise as though he knew every corner of the building by heart.
The footsteps outside grew louder, their rhythm unrelenting. It was only a matter of time before the strangers breached our flimsy sanctuary.
"We can't keep running forever," Baihe whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of our hurried breaths. "What are we supposed to do?"
Yike's gaze flicked toward her, his expression a mask of calm that seemed increasingly out of place. "There's a way," he said, his tone measured. "But it won't be easy."
"What way?" I demanded, stepping forward. The frustration and fear boiling inside me had reached a tipping point.
others stopped, their attention shifting to Yike. His face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.
"I know what they are," he said finally, his voice steady but low. "And I know why they're here. But understanding it won't help us unless we act."
"Act how?" Zichen asked, his voice sharp with skepticism. "You're talking in riddles, and we're the ones risking our lives."
Yike turned away, his attention focused on the far end of the library where an emergency exit loomed. "There's no time for explanations. Just trust me."
Trust. The word echoed in my mind, hollow and elusive. How could we trust someone who seemed to know so much but shared so little? Yet the alternatives were scarce, and survival felt like a fragile thread ready to snap.
The group followed Yike reluctantly, their steps hesitant. As we approached the emergency exit, the sound of the strangers' footsteps shifted, their movements echoing through the halls outside the library. My pulse raced, the fear threatening to overpower my resolve.
Yike pushed open the exit, the metallic groan of the door reverberating in the silence. Beyond the threshold was a narrow alley shrouded in shadows. The air felt cooler, the faint hum of distant streetlights breaking the oppressive darkness.
"This way," Yike said, motioning for us to follow. His movements were deliberate, his confidence unsettling.
We stepped into the alley, the cool night air brushing against my skin. Baihe stayed close, her fear palpable. Zichen muttered under his breath, his skepticism evident. The younger students clung to each other, their wide eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger.
As we moved through the alley, Yike's pace quickened, his urgency contagious. The distant hum of the strangers' footsteps grew louder, their presence an unyielding shadow that pursued us.
"They're gaining on us," Zichen hissed, his voice tight with panic.
"We're almost there," Yike replied, his tone unwavering.
Almost where? The question burned in my mind, but I didn't dare voice it. The adrenaline pumping through my veins pushed me forward, each step feeling like a gamble.
The alley opened into a small courtyard, its walls covered in ivy and graffiti. In the center stood a weathered stone monument, its surface etched with markings that seemed almost alive in the dim light.
Yike approached the monument, his movements purposeful. "This is it," he said, his voice carrying a weight of finality.
"This?" I asked, incredulous. "This is your plan?"
He didn't answer, his attention fixed on the monument. His fingers traced the etchings, his focus unbroken. The group hesitated, their fear and confusion mounting.
"What are you doing?" Baihe asked, her voice trembling.
"Unlocking the path," Yike replied cryptically.
Before anyone could question further, the sound of footsteps erupted from the alley. The strangers had found us.
"Yike, whatever you're doing, do it faster," Zichen said, his voice edged with panic.
They were coming, and we couldn't wait for Yike to finish whatever he was doing.
"We need more time," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my pulse.
"What are you talking about?" Zichen hissed, his eyes narrowing. "We need to run!"
"No," I said firmly, stepping forward. My gaze swept across the group, my resolve hardening. "We're not going to outrun them. Someone has to slow them down."
Baihe's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. "Taryn, you can't—"
"I have to," I cut her off, my voice steadier than I felt. "Yike's plan depends on us buying him time. If I can lead them away—"
"And get yourself killed?" Zichen snapped, anger flaring in his tone. "That's not a plan; it's suicide."
I shot back, meeting his gaze with a fiery determination. "We don't have a choice."
The group fell silent, the weight of my words sinking in. Yike didn't look up from the monument, his fingers tracing its intricate etchings with unwavering precision. He didn't protest, didn't try to stop me. Maybe he trusted me, or maybe he was too focused on his task to care.
"I'll do it," I said, my voice firm. "I'll lead them away."
Baihe grabbed my arm, her trembling fingers a mirror of her fear. "Please," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. "Don't do this."
I gently pried her fingers away, offering her a faint, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine," I lied, my chest tightening. "Just trust me."
Without waiting for a response, I turned and bolted toward the alley, my footsteps echoing in the dim courtyard. My mind raced as I navigated the twisting alleys, my every movement calculated to keep them on my trail.
I encountered a dead end. The alley narrowed to a stop, the walls towering above me like an impenetrable barrier. Panic surged, but I forced it down, scanning my surroundings for an escape.
My heart sank. They were smarter than I'd hoped, their movements coordinated and methodical. I needed to stay ahead of them, to keep them chasing me long enough for Yike to finish whatever he was doing.
I had no choice now but to face the consequences of my decisions. I have to go further, separate from them.