Serum Secrets and the Corporate Trap

Orange emergency strips strobe across the catwalk. Below, the lower span tears loose in slow, screaming sections, dropping into the dark. Abby has only seconds to keep moving before the facility takes the rest of the bridge with it.

Arthur clings close at Abby's side, tablet raised and shaking. A searchlight sweeps over them, then swings back, as if the system has finally spotted the giant shape striding through the wreckage.

A fresh tremor runs through the gantry. Rivets pop. The far end of the catwalk, where a service junction waits in the glare, looks like the last clean path out.

The bridge sags again, lower this time, but the target is clear now, the next step in their escape and the only way to keep Abby's growing strength from trapping them both here.

Abby launches, but the catwalk answer is worse than the setup. Her weight dents the flexing span, and the leap comes up short by a brutal meter.

She catches the edge with one hand, Arthur locked tight against her other arm, and the bridge shrieks under the sudden load.

A searchlight snaps onto them from below, whitening the catwalk and freezing their shadows against the rail.

Ahead, the next support joint is bent shut by falling debris, sealing the clean path to the apartment block side.

Arthur twists in Abby's grip and points down the side maintenance ladder, where a narrow service crawl is still intact. The building is not reachable from here, not without giving something up first.

Abby rolls her hips, twists the hanging weight of herself and Arthur, and turns the catwalk’s dead drop into a pendulum. The rail groans, then snaps her momentum forward.

Her free hand releases the edge at the peak. They sail across the gap as the searchlight stutters over empty air behind them.

Arthur clamps both arms around her shoulders, tablet pinned between them, its display flickering through a warped route overlay and heat warnings.

Abby hits the far side hard, boots skidding on the buckled grating. One hand catches the ladder rail, and the swing carries them onto the maintenance crawl landing.

Below them, the searchlights rake the broken span where they were a second ago. Above the landing, a service hatch hangs open beside the ladder, its access panel still live.

Abby plants one palm against the live access panel and drives it sideways. The cover shears free with a metallic crack, skidding along the grating and exposing the hatch controls.

The lit panel below spits sparks, then dims to a steady strip of amber. Arthur flinches back, tablet tucked tight to his chest as heat warnings crawl across the warped display.

Above them, the hatch yawns open wider, its inner ladder descending into a narrow service shaft. Searchlights sweep past the landing edge and wash the far catwalk in white.

Arthur shifts his weight toward the opening, one hand reaching for the ladder rung while the tablet flickers under the strain.

The catwalk shudders again under the distant collapse, and the open hatch waits at Abby’s shoulder, bright and unforgiving.

Abby hooks both arms under Arthur and hauls him up through the hatch first. His boots leave the catwalk, tablet clamped to his chest as he scrapes over the rim and disappears into the shaft.

The ladder rattles as Arthur drops a rung below the opening, making space. Amber light washes his tense face while the warped tablet spits a fresh thermal warning.

A searchlight cuts across the landing behind Abby, then slides away as the catwalk groans and sheds another burst of dust.

Below her, the open shaft hums with power and stale air. The route ahead is clear now, but only if Abby climbs after him before the bridge gives again.