Chapter 13 - The mansion exploded into motion.Guards sealed every exit.
Police surrounded the property.
But I already knew.
This wasn't a kidnapping by strangers.
They had access.
They knew the house.
They knew Noah's room.
And they knew the lullaby.
The lullaby my wife had only sung around family.
I walked into the nursery.
Emily followed.
She stared at the empty crib.
“I should have known.”
“You knew this could happen?”
“No.”
She picked up the blanket.
“Phase Four isn't kidnapping.”
“Then what is it?”
“Activation.”
The word chilled me.
“What does that mean?”
She turned the blanket over.
A small blue circle had been embroidered beneath the marker.
“The project doesn't need Noah physically.”
“What?”
“They need his blood.”
My heart stopped.
A cry came from downstairs.
We ran.
The nanny was on the kitchen floor.
Her wrists were tied.
She pointed toward the back door.
“Who took him?”
She sobbed.
“I don't know.”
“Did you see them?”
“A woman.”
“What woman?”
“She looked like your wife.”
I froze.
Emily closed her eyes.
“Isabelle.”
We tracked the vehicle through road cameras.
A black SUV had left the property.
It disappeared near an old train tunnel.
But the vehicle wasn't registered.
We followed.
Frank found the tunnel entrance.
Inside were fresh tire marks.
And blood.
Noah's blood.
Emily touched it.
“Not much.”
“Then what?”
“He was hurt.”
My chest tightened.
We moved deeper.
At the end of the tunnel was an underground platform.
An abandoned medical transport station.
Old signs read:
BRIARWOOD TRANSIT NODE 4.
Frank swore.
“This place is enormous.”
Lights flickered on.
A train waited in the darkness.
Emily stared at it.
“They're moving him.”
“Where?”
She pointed at the rail map.
“Connecticut.”
We boarded.
The train doors closed behind us.
Then locked.
A voice came through the speakers.
“Mr. Carter.”
Victor.
“Give me Noah.”
“Where is he?”
“You'll see him soon.”
“What do you want?”
“A choice.”
“What choice?”
“Give us your genetic sequence.”
“And Noah goes free?”
“No.”
I clenched my fists.
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
The train started moving.
“You're going to watch.”
The screen above the compartment turned on.
Noah appeared.
He was strapped into another chamber.
Emily screamed.
Victor's voice continued.
“You thought your son was the experiment.”
The screen changed.
A photograph appeared.
Me.
As a newborn.
Then another.
My father.
Then my mother.
Then another.
A group of infants.
Dozens.
Victor said:
“Your son is the continuation.”
“What continuation?”
“The first generation failed.”
The screen showed a medical chart.
SUBJECT ETHAN CARTER.
My hands went numb.
“What is that?”
Emily stared.
“My God.”
“What?”
“That isn't a birth record.”
“What is it?”
“An experiment record.”
I looked at the screen.
Date.
Location.
Observations.
Subject displays inherited thermal resistance.
I felt sick.
“I was a subject.”
Victor spoke:
“Correct.”
The screen showed my mother holding me.
Then my father.
Victor continued:
“Your family didn't give birth to you.”
Silence.
“They manufactured the environment in which you could survive.”
“No.”
“They selected your mother because she carried the maternal component.”
I looked at Emily.
“My entire life…”
“Was monitored.”
Victor laughed.
“Exactly.”
I felt something inside me crack.
“You turned me into an experiment.”
“No.”
His voice became cold.
“We turned you into a prototype.”
The train stopped.
Doors opened.
A massive underground facility waited beyond.
Emily grabbed my hand.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“There's something you don't know.”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“Your father wasn't the architect.”
“Then who was?”
She stared into the facility.
“Your mother.”
I stepped forward.
Then stopped.
A woman stood at the end of the corridor.
Long dark hair.
White coat.
The same face as my wife.
But older.
Harder.
Alive.
She smiled.
“Hello, Ethan.”
My heart stopped.
“Isabelle?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
Then she said:
“You can call me Mother.”
