Chapter 35 - The First Father
The first explosion came before the countdown reached eight minutes.
The vault door rattled.
Noah screamed.
Ethan pulled him behind the concrete pillar.
Dad shouted, “Everyone down!”
A second blast shook the corridor.
Dust filled the air.
I couldn't hear anything except the ringing in my ears.
Then Leah grabbed my arm.
“We have to move.”
“Where?”
“The emergency shaft.”
“Does it lead outside?”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“Then where?”
“The old maternity wing.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why does Carter have a maternity wing?”
Leah looked at my mother.
“It doesn't.”
Mom's face went pale.
“Adrian built it.”
Dad looked at her.
“You never told me.”
“You never asked what happened after the twins were born.”
A gunshot cracked through the corridor.
Diane screamed.
Everyone froze.
Then came footsteps.
Fast.
Organized.
Military.
Dad stepped forward.
“Stay here.”
I grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Those are my people.”
“Then they're compromised.”
His expression changed.
Another voice echoed through the corridor.
“General Hale!”
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“Colonel Ross.”
I knew the name.
He had worked with Dad for years.
Trusted.
Respected.
A man's voice came through the smoke.
“Step away from the women.”
Dad shouted back.
“Stand down.”
“Can't do that.”
“Ross, that's an order.”
“So is mine.”
Three figures emerged.
All wearing military tactical gear.
The insignia on their shoulders had been removed.
Ross looked at me.
“C-14.”
I raised my weapon.
“You know who I am.”
“Everybody knows.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Noah clung to Ethan.
I stepped in front of him.
Ross smiled.
“The boy is irrelevant.”
Elias laughed.
“You don't believe that.”
Ross aimed at him.
“C-13.”
Elias didn't move.
“You've been looking for me for years.”
“I've been trying to contain you.”
“No.”
Elias looked at me.
“You've been protecting the real subject.”
Ross fired.
Elias moved.
The bullet struck the wall.
Dad returned fire.
Everything exploded.
We ran.
Leah pulled me through a steel door.
My mother followed.
Ethan carried Noah.
Elias came last.
The door slammed behind us.
“We can't leave him out there,” I said.
“Who?”
“Dad.”
Elias grabbed my wrist.
“He can handle himself.”
“He's my father.”
“He gave me to Carter.”
I stared at him.
“He saved me.”
“He sacrificed me.”
“He thought you were going to die.”
“I was seven.”
“I know.”
“That wasn't enough.”
Elias's face broke for one second.
“I know.”
We kept moving.
The maternity wing looked nothing like the rest of the facility.
White walls.
Tiny rooms.
Old hospital cribs.
Names were painted on every door.
I walked past them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Dozens.
Some were dates.
Some were numbers.
One door stopped me.
I opened it.
Inside was a crib.
And on the wall was a height chart.
Two columns.
C-00.
C-14.
The marks stopped at age seven.
I touched the final line.
“Why?”
Mom answered.
“Because that's when they separated you.”
I looked at her.
“What happened to my memories?”
“Your memories were never erased.”
I frowned.
“They were buried.”
“By who?”
“Adrian.”
“Why?”
“Because he discovered Carter couldn't control your behavior.”
She looked at the crib.
“But it could control what you believed about yourself.”
I stared.
“That's what the anchor is.”
Leah nodded.
“Identity.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What does Noah have to do with it?”
Nobody answered.
I looked at Elias.
He finally spoke.
“He's the bridge.”
My skin crawled.
“What does that mean?”
“The anchor has to transfer.”
“To him?”
“No.”
Elias shook his head.
“To whoever the original subject chooses.”
I stared at my son.
“No.”
Elias crouched in front of Noah.
“Listen to me.”
I pulled him back.
“Don't.”
He looked at me.
“He needs to know.”
“He's six.”
“He already knows.”
Noah stared at me.
“Mom.”
“Yes?”
“The people who took me showed me a room.”
My blood turned cold.
“What room?”
“A room with pictures.”
“What pictures?”
He swallowed.
“Pictures of you.”
I knelt.
“What kind?”
“You and Grandma.”
“Anything else?”
He nodded.
“Daddy.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Me?”
Noah pointed at me.
“Not you.”
He looked frightened.
“Another daddy.”
The room went silent.
Mom whispered, “Adrian.”
Noah shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward Elias.
“Not him.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who?”
Noah pointed to a photograph on the wall.
An old man.
White hair.
Carter insignia.
My father's commanding officer.
General Thomas Hale.
My grandfather.
I stared.
“He's been dead twenty years.”
Elias whispered, “That's what they told you.”
Leah moved toward the photograph.
She turned it over.
There was a date.
Yesterday.
A fresh notation.
SUBJECT ZERO TRANSFERRED TO HOSPITAL WING.
My mother began shaking.
“That's impossible.”
A monitor beside the crib came alive.
Heartbeat.
Slow.
Steady.
Adult.
One word appeared.
THOMAS.
Dad's father.
My grandfather.
I stepped backward.
“No.”
The door behind us unlocked.
A man's voice came through the speaker.
“Hello, granddaughter.”
My mother screamed.
Elias went rigid.
Leah whispered, “He's alive.”
May you like
The voice continued.
“And I have been waiting for C-14 to come home.”
