The Last Package

The Last Package

David ran through the dark alley, his backpack bouncing against him. He didn’t know what was inside—only that people were willing to kill for it.

Tires screeched. A black SUV blocked the alley’s exit. A man in a suit stepped out, gun in hand.

“Hand it over, David,” he said calmly.

David took a step back. “I don’t even know what this is!”

“You don’t need to. Just give it to us.”

David knew better. He turned and sprinted. Gunshots echoed. Bullets cracked the brick walls beside him. He dived behind a dumpster, panting.

His phone buzzed—Claire.

“David! They’re tracking your phone. Ditch it!”

Without hesitation, he smashed the phone on the ground and ran.

Ahead, an old fire escape clung to a building. He jumped, grabbed the rusty ladder, and climbed. A bullet grazed his leg, but he kept going.

On the rooftop, the city stretched below him—lights, traffic, shadows. Then, a helicopter roared overhead. A spotlight locked onto him.

“Come on!” he muttered.

He spotted another rooftop a few feet away. No choice. He ran and jumped. His fingers barely caught the ledge. Arms burning, he pulled himself up.

Claire stood there, waiting.

“You made it,” she said.

“What’s in the package?” he panted.

She sliced open his backpack. Inside, a small black box pulsed with blue light.

“It’s a key,” she said. “To something dangerous.”

“Great,” David muttered. “Now what?”

The helicopter circled. Claire grabbed his hand.

“Now we run.”