Back door

The air was heavy when Trey, Will, and Elijah returned to the pack house, boots scuffing against the polished wood floors. Aspen padded ahead of them, ears still alert despite the calm setting. She didn’t bark, but the tight flick of her tail told them she wasn’t completely at ease.

Remi was already waiting in the hallway with Del, a blanket wrapped around her friend’s shoulders and a warm mug of tea clutched in her hands.

Del stood as soon as she saw them. “Well?”

Will nodded tightly. “Brannon talked. Rae shook him with just a comm line and his own search history. He admitted to being a relay—said the intel was going to something or someone called Nightroot.”

Remi’s expression darkened, and she looked toward the stairs. “She’s upstairs in the comm room. Didn’t stop working.”

Del’s jaw tensed, eyes darting toward the closed door. “We should check on her.”

Upstairs, the soft click of keys echoed behind the slightly open door. The light from Rae’s monitors cast a faint blue glow over her face, making the shadows beneath her eyes look deeper.

Aspen padded in first and gave a quiet, low bark. Rae didn’t flinch — but her hand did reach out, giving the wolf a quick scratch behind the ears.

“You’re back,” she said, voice dry, but edged with something warmer.

Will stepped into the room next, followed by Trey, Elijah, Remi, and Del.

“You look like hell,” Remi murmured, immediately walking over with a juice box and a protein bar in hand.

“I feel like hell,” Rae said, accepting both without protest. “But I found something.”

Del leaned forward. “What kind of something?”

Rae spun the screen. “In the encrypted logs Brannon accessed, I found embedded code segments that weren’t part of the standard data structure. I nearly missed it — it was buried under a redirect loop.”

Trey’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of code?”

“A backdoor protocol. Someone built a program that allows remote access into the pack’s central server — but disguised it as a routine diagnostic patch.”

Rae tapped a few keys. A series of lines appeared: strings of symbols, a rotating hash key, and a timer sequence.

“This isn’t just spying,” she said, voice sharp now. “It’s a trigger. If they activate it remotely, it could wipe your whole system or reroute every surveillance stream to their network. We’re talking full infrastructure breach — they could ghost the entire pack’s defenses in under five minutes.”

Elijah muttered, “And no one noticed this?”

“No one without my level of paranoia,” Rae snapped, then softened. “Sorry. Low blood sugar.”

Remi handed her a second snack, gently brushing Rae’s hair out of her eyes.

“So what do we do?” Will asked.

Rae sat back, cracking her neck. “I’m writing a firewall protocol now — and a ghost loop to make it look like the system’s still operational when we disconnect them. But I need to run a test first.”

“Where?” Del asked quietly.

Rae’s eyes met hers.

“At the station bunker. There’s a clean terminal with no prior exposure to infected lines. If I’m right, I can trap whoever tries to activate the backdoor and trace their signal location.”

Aspen gave a low growl, pacing a tight circle near the window.

“They’ll know soon we’re onto them,” Trey said.

“Good,” Rae muttered, fingers flying over the keys. “Let them know. Let them panic.”

Rae was still hunched over the keyboard, fingers flying, eyes locked on a cascading stream of code. Aspen sat curled at her feet like a silent sentinel, but her ears twitched at every noise. The tension in the room was thick, only broken by the soft crinkle of a protein bar wrapper.

Remi crossed her arms, leaning against the desk. “Alright, Rae. You’ve had three juice boxes, two protein bars, and half a sleeve of crackers. I think it’s time for real food.”

Rae didn’t look up. “Define ‘real food.’”

“Hot. Not from a foil wrapper. And ideally something you didn’t dig out of an emergency ration pack.”

Rae made a face, finally glancing up from the screen. “Are you saying I stink, too?”

Will smirked from where he stood near the door, arms crossed. “I mean… if the smoke alarm goes off when you walk by—”

“Don’t help,” Trey muttered, elbowing him.

Elijah snorted. “We love you, Rae. But you’ve been running on caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer spite for 48 hours. At some point, you’re gonna crash hard.”

Del smiled softly from the arm of the couch. “And I know you hate being told what to do, but maybe… just maybe… you could eat something real and take a ten-minute shower?”

Rae exhaled, pushing her chair back with a squeak. “Fine. But I’m taking Aspen with me. In case you traitors try to sneak in and disinfect me with lavender soap.”

Aspen gave a short huff like she agreed with the plan.

Remi rolled her eyes. “I’m making grilled cheese. With real butter. And tomato soup. Shower first, or I’m locking your laptop.”

That got Rae’s attention. She looked appalled. “That’s a hate crime.”

Will chuckled. “Only if you don’t rinse the shampoo out.”

As Rae got to her feet, stretching stiffly, her eyes darted back to the terminal. “The firewalls are building. Give me twenty minutes. When I get back, we’re finishing the loop and baiting the trap.”

“Deal,” Remi said, already heading for the kitchen. “Just promise not to pass out in the shower.”

Rae saluted wearily. “If I drown, avenge me with a firewall and a middle finger.”

Elijah muttered, “If she makes it through this alive, I’m buying her a vacation.”