“She already suspects.”
“Then let me buy you some time.” She pulled a small autoinjector from her coat and pressed it to her own neck.
“What are you…?” Elias stared through wide eyes.
“She’ll assume I fought back but was overpowered. You forced me to open doors for you. It keeps me close to the other subjects and off her radar, at least for a little while. She’ll know you’ve skirted the cameras and other security.”
Elias watched her for a long second. “You’ll wake up to chaos. She’ll be furious I took her prize project.”
She gave a small, humorless smile. “I’ve been in chaos since your father left this place.” Her fingers hovered over the trigger. “Go. Get him out. Give her back the man she loves.”
She looked down at Alex’s face—pale, drenched in sweat, lips parted as he struggled for breath. Her voice broke just slightly. “And tell her… I tried.”
Elias nodded once.
Then she pressed the injector. Her knees buckled. Elias leaned his hip against her as she sank, gently slowing her descent to the floor. Already, her eyes were fluttering closed.
She whispered, “Save who you can…”
Elias stood to his full height, adjusted the med pack, and moved into the night with Alex held close.
Then darkness took her.
Thirty-Seven
It was nearlydawn when Charlotte heard the soft knock at her door. She jolted awake from the couch. Bailey was already on his feet, tail stiff, ears high. Yet he didn’t bark. He only did that for people he trusted.
Charlotte grabbed her gun and approached slowly, tension knotting in her chest. She peered through the peephole and froze.
Then she flung the door open. “Elias…?”
He stood there, clear-eyed yet pale, damp with dawn’s mist and sweat. In his arms— “Alex.”
Her knees almost gave out. She reached for him instinctively, brushing sweat-slicked hair from his face. “Oh my God—Alex. What did they do to him?”
Elias stepped inside and laid him gently on the couch. “He’s been hit with something experimental. Twice. He’s fighting it, but he’s losing ground.”
“I—what do we do?”
Elias handed her the black kit. “He needs a hospital. He needs full stabilization. Oxygen. IVs. A neurosurgeon. Someone to talk him back into who he was. I can’t give him that.”
She looked up at Elias, tears already forming. “But I can.”
He nodded once. “But you can.” Then he turned to go.
“Wait,” she said. “How can I find you?”
Elias stopped in the doorway. “I got him out. But I’m not done.” And with that, he vanished into the fading dark.
“Thank you.” Her voice caught on the wind.
He left Charlotte kneeling beside Alex, her hand trembling as she reached for his. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Come back to me, Alex. Please… come back.”
Alex lay where Elias placed him, burning with fever, his breathing ragged, skin clammy and ghostly pale. He was slipping. Fast. She could see it, feel it. Whatever was done to him wasn’t something she could fix with her first-aid instincts.
“I can’t. I don’t know what to…” She pressed a trembling hand to his chest. It was rising, but barely. “Okay. Okay. Think, Char… think.”
Alex groaned, deep and raw, and his eyes rolled back into his head with a convulsion.
