Page 6 of Crossfire Creek Siege

“They’re jammed,” he muttered.

Rena stepped beside him, her expression already shifting from confusion to readiness. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah,” he said, his pulse pounding. “We’re not getting company. We’re getting hit.”

Behind him, the noise hadn’t died down. The kids were still laughing, voices echoing in the dark as a few kept their laser guns flashing red and blue across the equipment racks. They thought it was part of the show, some surprise twist that Lily’s uncle had cooked up.

Gage knew better.

Noah stepped up beside him, the faint glow from the candles catching on the sharp line of his jaw. He punched the override panel beside the door, muttering under his breath. The controls flickered once, then went dead.

“Come on,” Noah growled, trying again. “Manual’s not responding.”

Rena hovered close, weapon drawn now, her eyes tracking every sound. Then it came. The deep, rhythmic thump of another chopper. The second one was closer, heavier. Landing somewhere on the far side of the compound.

Noah turned, his voice cutting through the hangar. “Owen, Ruby, check the rear exit.”

The couple moved fast, cutting across the darkness toward the secondary door at the back of the building. A few of the kids called after them, still laughing, thinking it was all part of the act. The laser-tag sensors blinked like Christmas lights in the black.

Seconds later, Owen’s voice came back, rough with strain. “It’s jammed, too.”

Gage’s gut twisted. “Hell. What’s going on?” He looked at Noah, lowering his voice. “Could this be a prank? Maybe some of Lily’s friends trying to freak everybody out?”

Even as he said it, he didn’t believe it. The chopper blades, the jammed doors—it was too coordinated, too sharp.

Noah’s voice cut through the rising chatter, calm but commanding. “We need to get the kids out. There’s a corridor that connects to the main building. Safe room’s inside. Go now.”

He didn’t shout, but everyone heard him. That tone carried the weight of rank and a lifetime of being obeyed.

Ruby was the first to act. “Move,” she said, waving a handful of teens toward the side door. “Stay close. Don’t panic. Let’s go.”

The birthday excitement had started to drain from the kids’ faces, replaced with the wide-eyed uncertainty that always came before fear.

Gage motioned to the rest, corralling stragglers with Rena and Owen. “You heard her, move. Stick together.” His voice came out sharper than intended, adrenaline already threading through it.

Halfway across the floor, Gage’s earpiece crackled and died. Static hissed for a second, then nothing. He tapped it, then looked up at Noah.

“Comms are gone,” he said.

Noah didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The grim look on his face said he already knew.

Ruby had just reached the far side of the hangar with five of the kids in tow. She hit the access pad, and the corridor door slid open with a hiss. “Inside, go,” she ordered, shoving the last teenager through before stepping in behind them.

Then the door slammed shut. Hard.

Gage lunged toward it. “Ruby,” he called out.

No response. He hit the release. Nothing. The control panel was dead, same as the hangar doors.

He looked at Noah. “She’s trapped on the other side.”

Noah’s jaw locked. “How many with her?”

“Five,” Gage said, doing a quick mental headcount. “That leaves eleven here.”

Gage glanced around at the remaining cluster of kids, their frightened faces washed pale in the faint light from the birthday cake. The heavy silence that followed pressed down like a weight.

Owen’s voice broke it. “We’re sealed in.”