Chapter 9 - Phase TwoThe basement doors locked.
A red light began flashing.
Dad fired at the control panel.
Nothing.
Voss stood behind the glass.
“You're wasting ammunition.”
Dad shouted:
“Let us out!”
Voss smiled.
“After seventeen years, I'm not going to let my research walk away.”
I stepped toward him.
“What is Phase Two?”
“Integration.”
Evan stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Voss looked at him.
“You'll find out.”
The room suddenly filled with a low mechanical hum.
Gas hissed from vents.
Mom screamed.
“Gas!”
Dad grabbed his jacket and covered Mom's face.
I held my breath.
Evan dropped to his knees.
His hands began shaking.
I grabbed him.
“Evan!”
His eyes rolled back.
Then he whispered:
“Run.”
The gas thickened.
The lights blurred.
I stumbled toward the control room.
My hands found the emergency release.
I pulled.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a small keypad.
Three numbers.
I tried 314.
Nothing.
The door opened.
Dad pushed everyone through.
We escaped into the corridor.
Evan was barely conscious.
We dragged him behind a row of cabinets.
Mom looked at him.
“He's reacting.”
“To the gas?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“To the compound.”
“What compound?”
She shook her head.
“The same one they used on you.”
I stared at her.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
Voss's voice echoed through the hall.
“You see, Connor, that's the difference between you and your brother.”
His footsteps approached.
“You were given the compound once.”
Evan struggled to stand.
“He gave me it every week.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Evan grimaced.
“For years.”
Voss continued:
“Your body adapted.”
“His did not.”
I looked at my twin.
His veins were darkening.
“What's happening to him?”
Voss answered calmly:
“His cells are beginning to reject the original template.”
“What?”
“He was created from your DNA.”
Voss stepped into view.
“But no copy is perfect.”
Evan collapsed.
I caught him.
His skin was burning.
Voss said:
“The closer you are, the stronger his cells become.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Voss smiled.
“It means your bodies were designed to complete each other.”
Dad raised his gun.
Voss laughed.
“Shoot me.”
Dad hesitated.
“You won't.”
“Why?”
“Because your son needs me.”
I looked down at Evan.
He opened his eyes.
“Connor…”
“What?”
He grabbed my wrist.
“Don't let him take me.”
Then a loud alarm sounded.
The hospital's main doors opened.
Sirens filled the building.
Voss looked toward the ceiling.
His expression changed.
“Too soon.”
Dad whispered:
“Police?”
Voss shook his head.
“Not police.”
A dozen armed men entered the corridor.
But they weren't Voss's men.
They wore black uniforms.
A silver symbol covered their shoulders.
A circle split by a vertical line.
Voss went pale.
“No…”
One of the men looked at me.
“Target identified.”
Then he raised his weapon.
“Secure Connor Hayes.”
Voss whispered:
“They're here for the original.”
Dad pushed me behind him.
“Who are they?”
Voss finally looked afraid.
“The people who funded the project.”
The men advanced.
And from somewhere behind them came a woman's voice.
“Don't hurt my son.”
I knew that voice.
It was my mother's.
But my mother was standing beside me.
Then another woman stepped into the light.
She had the same face.
The same eyes.
The same scar above her eyebrow.
She looked at me.
May you like
And smiled.
“Hello, Connor.”
