The taxis were gone.
Not a single one in sight.
I stood there, staring at the empty road like a damn fool, hoping—praying—that maybe one would turn the corner. That maybe, just maybe, luck hadn't completely abandoned me.
But the street remained eerily deserted.
No headlights.
No honking.
Not even a distant engine rumbling in the night.
Nothing.
I swallowed hard. My fingers curled into my jacket, the chill of the evening settling deep into my bones.
It was like the whole city had just… shut down.
I glanced back toward the airport. The automatic glass doors slid open and closed as people trickled out, dragging their suitcases behind them. Normal. Just like any other airport.
And yet—
I could feel it.
That wrongness.
That heavy, suffocating tension creeping into my lungs, pressing against my ribs like unseen hands.
I wasn't the only one trying to get out of here.
But somehow, I was the only one who couldn't.
