Buckle up because this one might be a ride – more on what the story’s actually about later. For now, here’s chapter 1.
One
There were voices in the hall. Either they were really panicked this time or they were sure that he was asleep—not a bad assumption, all things considered, but this time, it was the wrong one.
Of course, I could be imagining that I’m hearing them. Could be another—
He dug his thumbnail into the soft spot between his finger and thumb of the other hand. The voices stayed.
Nope. Awake and it’s not a vision.
But it was hard to focus, to make out the words.
“—like they headed south—”
“—couldn’t stop—”
Two voices. There were two distinct voices. Male. They were familiar but he couldn’t quite—
“Don’t worry—them.”
“—involved?”
Who is it? One sounds like Dr. Sterling. Who’s the other?
“—find out—”
Damnation. If I saw I’d know. I think I’d know. Would I?
“—a threat?”
“—treat it like one.”
“What does that—”
“Shut it down.”
His stomach dropped. What the hell happened?
“Going to take time to—”
“—don’t have it. Start tonight.”
“Arrangements—”
Sterling must have swung closer to the door. The next words were clear even as the listener shivering in a bed despite a mountain of blankets strained to focus, to hear, to commit the words, the conversation to memory.
“If we don’t find them before they tell anyone, everything will be for naught. Make the arrangements. Clear it out. Do it fast. We don’t have time.”
“Do you rea—”
“This is the largest threat we’ve faced since the Monroe girl got away.”
Silence.
He couldn’t breathe, could barely hear over the thunder of his own heart in his ears.
Since the Monroe girl got away?
Ky got away? She’s—she’s not—
He thought he heard the other voice in the hall echoing his own thoughts. Thought he heard the other voice questioning Sterling.
One died. The other lived. The other is here.
Unless they lied.
Stifling a groan, squeezing his eyes shut against the sudden sting of tears, he rolled onto his back. Of course they lied. They couldn’t let us have hope. They couldn’t let us have that. The only way out of this place is working for them, doing what they want us to do. They could never let us believe anything different.
God, is she actually out there? Did she really get away?
Hell. Goddammit. Dammit, Ky. Dammit. I—
I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.
He held his breath, swallowed hard. Listened.
No more voices came from the hall. Had they realized he was awake somehow? Or had they finished, moved on?
He didn’t know.
Did that part matter?
Maybe not.
He swallowed again, this time against bile rising in his throat.
If she was still alive, that changed everything.
It meant there was still hope.
