Page 14 of Glass Rose
The man I helped torture for fourteen months just saved my life.
“Thank y?—”
The building erupts again, and the sharp crack of gunfire and screams cut through the darkness. Spotlights sweep the perimeter, illuminating a stream of bodies pouring from the main exit. Some move wrong, lurching and stumbling.
Infected or still human and just panicking?
FOUR
SOFIA
“Get down!” Gavin shoves me to the ground as a spotlight sweeps across the trees, missing us by yards.
“They’re containing it,” Dr. Cho says.
“They’re shooting anything that moves. Neutralizing all potential carriers,” Gavin says. “Including us.”
Another explosion, followed by screams that don’t sound entirely human.
“There.” Gavin points toward a distant parking lot. “We’ll steal a car.”
“That’s half a mile across open ground,” Alex protests. “We’ll be seen.”
“What if we wait for the dark?” I ask.
“No time.” Gavin nods toward the facility. “Look.”
Beyond the fence, security personnel in tactical gear emerge from a side entrance.
Alex shifts his weight, camera still recording. “We could surrender. Explain we’re not infected.”
Dr. Cho’s laugh is brittle. “And you think they’ll what? Give us a medical exam? They’re shooting everything that moves.”
“Better than running into the woods with—” Alex gestures at Gavin. “—whatever the hell he is.”
His face remains impassive, but something flickers in those mesmerizing eyes. “I’m the reason you’re still breathing.”
“Yeah? And what exactly are you? Because you’re sure as fuck not regular security.”
I step between them. “He’s Subject 7. And right now, he’s our best chance.”
Alex’s eyes widen. “Are you insane?”
“Keep your voice down,” Gavin growls.
Dr. Cho adjusts her glasses. “I vote we go with the immune super-soldier.”
“Fine,” Alex mutters, lowering his camera. “But I’m keeping this rolling. When we get out, people need to know what happened here.”
What happened here. My stomach twists. WhatIlet happen here.
Gavin catches my eye, and for a split second, I see something unexpected—not hatred or judgment, but understanding. Like he can read the guilt written across my face.
“Stay low.” He places his hand against the small of my back, the heat of his palm burning through my lab coat and thin blouse. “And follow my lead.”
He moves ahead, navigating the shadows with practiced ease. I follow, crouching awkwardly, lab coat snagging on underbrush. Through the last cluster of trees, the parking lot comes into view. No people in sight.
“Which one?” I ask.
