Page 90 of Echos and Empires
“Jose, get the fuck out of here if we’re not out in twenty minutes.” Alex paused and then added. “And steal an ultrasound however you can. Someone has to know how to use one besides me.”
Their footfalls were like percussion, a rapid tattoo of movement and need as they pushed through the green. It was a violent kind of faith that propelled them forward, a faith that they wouldn’t be too late. William led with knowledge like a torch, burning away hesitation and fear. He could feel Alex and Bash at his back, Chris at his side, could feel the determination of his team like blood pumping through the heart of them. The island complex rose from the landscape, a gnarled monstrosityof metal and silence. They paused at the entrance, but only to breathe, only to remember that they still could. Then they were inside, trusting William’s instincts as they plunged down the rusted, narrow corridors.
He barely stopped to register the place, its familiarity or its horror. They moved with a singular motion, one urgent line of life and purpose threading through the stillness. William let memory guide him, each step a fight against the thoughts that clawed for his attention—Emma, her vulnerability, Victor and his threats. He couldn’t let it break him, not now. His brothers’ faith was his shield, and he moved forward with its protection wrapped tightly around his heart.
The air grew colder as they advanced, and the lights overhead flickered with an erratic pulse. Alex was close, his breathing loud and angry, matching the brutal rhythm of their advance. Bash was steady and silent, his weapon drawn, ready to tear into anything that moved. Chris had taken the lead, pushing hard, pushing fast, the scars of past failures visible in the rigid line of his jaw.
When the complex swallowed them, it did so with open jaws, but William refused to let himself be devoured. He kept his focus tight and sharp, drawing the others in close as they reached the old control room. It was abandoned now, but its threat still lingered like the echoes of a death rattle.
“This is it,” William said, his voice low but firm, as if speaking any louder would shatter the fragile hold they had on time. “Where I was when the door popped open.” he gestured toward the still open door, briefly wondering why it hadn’t been closed.
Alex ran a hand through his hair, the gesture quick and frustrated. “Then we shut it down. For good.”
A beat of silence followed, the air dense with past and present colliding. C
“You’re sure about this?” Liam asked.
“I was here long enough to remember, most of what they did to me was verbal, not memory confusing stuff” William replied, a hard edge to his voice as the memories threatened to resurface. “This must be back up comms towers. He’s got to be down there. It’s the only reason the door is open.”
Liam nodded, the movement sharp and final, then gestured for the others to keep close. “Stay together. No one goes down alone.”
The words sank in, heavier than William would admit. He remembered the days he’d spent there, the fear and confusion, the cold metal biting into his wrists. He pushed the thoughts away, locking them tight behind the doors of his mind, then took the first step down the corridor that led deeper into the unknown.
The walls closed in on them, narrow and suffocating. Water dripped from somewhere unseen, its slow patter a countdown that pressed harder on their backs with every second. The lights continued to flicker, an erratic pulse that turned their shadows into monstrous shapes against the rust-streaked surfaces. The air was cold and metallic, biting into their skin as they pushed further, their movements quick and desperate.
This time, William wasn’t the captive. He was the guide, the hunter, and his instincts were stronger than the fear that gnawed at him. He led them through the maze of corridors, each twist and turn marked by his memories, each step taking them closer to the heart of the beast.
As they reached a section he remembered too well, he paused, catching the breath that threatened to slip from his lungs. He glanced at the others, their faces drawn and focused, then gestured forward, keeping them close.
“We’re getting closer,” he said, pushing the words out before doubt could take their place. “It’s all connected, like the last place. They have to be running the same kind of setup here.”
“Victor must’ve known we’d come for him,” Bash spoke with a snarl, the accusation biting into the air like shrapnel.
“But he didn’t expect us to get this far,” Alex added, his voice steady, like the promise of a trigger waiting to be pulled.
“Or he didn’t care,” William thought, but he couldn’t let the thought escape his mouth. He had to believe they could win this time. They all did.
Their steps grew faster, urgency closing around them like a vice. They were getting close. They had to be. William felt the surge of hope rise and choke him, but he pushed it down, knowing it was too fragile to trust yet.
He didn’t slow to question the lights, didn’t pause to reconsider. He led them on, faster now, his determination as loud as the pounding in his chest. It was all or nothing, and they couldn’t afford anything.
Then he saw it—the central chamber looming at the end of the corridor, more threatening than any memory he’d left behind. William signaled for the others to stay close, then steeled himself for whatever they’d find inside. It was the moment they’d been fighting for, and everything was at stake. This was where he’d been kept and saved from. If Victor was here, he was somewhere in that room just beyond their view.
The air was cold and smelled of chemical decay, and the walls were slick with condensation and streaks of old blood. The space seemed to breathe around them, each exhaling a chill against their skin. William led with ruthless precision, every twist of the corridor a reminder of what he’d barely survived. It was surreal, an echo of his captivity that stretched and warped in the dim light. They passed abandoned laboratory equipment and disturbing remnants of experiments—leaking vials, shattered glass, and unidentifiable mechanical parts—while distant alarms began to sound. The emptiness felt more sinister with each step, as if the trap was set and only waiting to be sprung.
He listened as the group’s footsteps reverberated against the metal floor, a dissonant rhythm that undercut the cold efficiency of their movements. It was all familiar and alien at once, the memories of William’s time there overlapping with the stark reality of what Victor had left behind. He couldn’t afford to let the past pull him under; he had to keep moving, keep fighting.
Passing row after row of broken glass and gutted machinery, each new sight seemed more unsettling than the last. Mechanical limbs twisted out from cracked shells, their wires hanging limp like the tendrils of some monstrous sea creature. The vials and equipment told a story of mad experimentation and shattered lives, and William’s skin prickled with the knowledge that he had almost been one of them—a test subject, a discarded remnant.
“This is sick,” Bash muttered, the first words to break the cold silence between them.
“Even for what we know about Victor,” Alex agreed, his voice tight with controlled rage. “Looks like he pulled out quickly. No way they meant to leave all this.”
“Means he didn’t think we’d make it here,” Liam added, the edge of grim determination cutting through his voice. “Let’s prove him wrong.”
William set his jaw and kept moving, faster now, the urgency building with every beat of his heart. He didn’t know if he was more afraid of finding Victor or not finding him, but he couldn’t stop, couldn’t give in to the fear that whispered and taunted him with every step.
The lights dimmed and flared, a rhythmic pulse that matched the frantic beat of William’s heart. There was one final door in the room. He forced himself to look straight ahead, to block out everything but the mission.
