Page 3 of Glass Rose
My keycard shouldn’t give me access, but I cloned Dr. Brown’s card one month ago after he passed out drunk at the staff Christmas party. The things men will tell you when they think they might get laid.
“The subjects in this section are or were in the final testing phase,” I explain as we approach the secure door of one cell. “The virus has been modified over twenty iterations now. This version, BC-7.21, shows the highest compliance rates but also the most severe side effects.”
“What kind of side effects?” Mia asks.
“Aggression paradoxically increases in about 20% of subjects. Cognitive function declines. Some individuals experience increased physical capabilities but decreased reasoning abilities. And then… death.”
“Can we talk to him?” Jack asks. “Is he sedated?”
“He’s dead.” I tap the glass. “BC-7 subject fourteen. Respiratory failure after nine days of treatment. They just… haven’t moved the body yet. That’s why tonight was our only chance—minimal staff, minimal subjects.”
Jack steps back, face pale. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Don’t worry, you won’t catch anything through the glass.” I move to the next cell. This is weird. “This one’s still alive. Maybe they forgot to move him.”
A man in his forties lies strapped to a hospital bed, eyes open but unfocused. Tubes snake from his arms to machines that beep softly. His skin has a grayish cast, veins visible like dark rivers beneath.
“What’s wrong with him?” Peter whispers, camera whirring.
“BC-7 is supposed to increase compliance in subjects. Make them more… malleable.” My fingers twitch against my thigh. “The military applications are obvious.”
Alex moves closer to the glass. “So Green’s making super-soldiers?”
“They’re making something none of us can understand and kill people.” I recheck my watch. “We need to move faster. I want to show you the other lab and documentation.”
“Hold up.” Alex wanders down the corridor, stopping atCell 14, where a motionless body lies on a bed, his finger hovering over the open button. “Can we go inside this one?”
I move to the cell’s monitoring station, pulling up the digital log with quick taps. Something doesn’t add up. “Subject was marked for disposal two days ago. Status still reads ‘pending collection.’” I drag the scrollbar, going through more entries. “They pick them up every night.”
The hairs on my neck stand up as I glance through the glass. Something about the angle of the body doesn’t match standard post-mortem positioning. Chest isn’t moving. No breathing. But there’s no decay either. And the skin color is… too grayish.
“We should just go to the lab.” I back away. “Guards coming soon.”
Alex catches my elbow, steering me a few steps away from the others. “Hey, you’re getting paranoid. We need this footage.” His voice drops lower, intimate. “This is what you wanted, right? Expose everything?”
“Yes, but—” I glance back at the cell. Jack and Mia are examining the electronic lock while Peter films. “We need to stick to the plan. I’ve documented everything already. We don’t need to go into the cells.”
His thumb traces circles on my inner wrist. “Sofia, relax. We’re fine. Security’s nowhere near us.”
My attention splits between his touch and the nagging feeling in my gut. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what is it?” His eyes hold mine, that same look that got me into his bed the first time.
“I don’t know, I just?—”
“Hey, check this out!” Jack calls from down the corridor.
I try to pull away, but Alex’s grip tightens slightly. “They’ll be fine for two minutes. Besides, I’ve missed you.”
“This isn’t the time for?—”
His lips cut off my protest.
I jerk back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “What the fuck, Alex? Now? Here?”
But he’s not looking at me anymore. His eyes are fixed on something behind me, and his half-smile has nothing to do with the kiss.
“Oh, this is good material!” Mia calls.
