Chapter 8 - Natalie stopped breathing.“My mother died when I was twelve.”
Ward didn't answer.
Holloway stepped closer.
“That was the story.”
Natalie looked at him.
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“My father raised me.”
“He was told to.”
Natalie felt dizzy.
Her entire childhood suddenly seemed unreal.
Her mother.
Dead.
Her father.
A grieving widower.
Years of military service.
Everything she believed about herself.
Everything she trusted.
“Then who was she?”
Holloway answered:
“Dr. Evelyn Carter.”
Natalie's eyes widened.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“She was one of the founders.”
“Of Echo?”
“Yes.”
Natalie stumbled backward.
Her mother hadn't died.
She had built the program.
And Natalie had become its most successful subject.
A door exploded behind them.
Black-uniformed soldiers entered.
Holloway fired.
Briggs pushed Natalie behind cover.
Ward screamed.
“Move!”
They fled through another tunnel.
Natalie barely knew where she was going.
Her mind was drowning in memories.
Her mother's voice.
A childhood kitchen.
A black ring.
A locked basement.
And a lullaby she hadn't heard since she was twelve.
She suddenly stopped.
“What?”
Ward turned.
“Natalie!”
Natalie stared at a steel door.
There was a symbol on it.
The same black stone.
The same silver eagle.
Her hands began shaking.
“This is where they kept me.”
Holloway stared.
“How do you know?”
“I remember.”
She touched the door.
The lock opened.
Inside was a small room.
No laboratory equipment.
No restraints.
Just photographs.
Natalie entered slowly.
Pictures covered the walls.
Herself as a child.
Herself at West Point.
Herself during basic training.
Her first deployment.
Her graduation.
And photographs from Night Glass.
But there was one photograph that made her freeze.
Natalie, standing beside her mother.
Both wearing military uniforms.
The date was printed underneath.
Three months before Natalie's thirteenth birthday.
Natalie whispered:
“I was here.”
Ward nodded.
“You were.”
Briggs entered.
He looked at the photographs.
“They didn't tell you because the truth would destroy the conditioning.”
Natalie turned.
“What conditioning?”
Briggs pointed at one picture.
Natalie was sitting in the Echo chair.
She appeared fourteen.
A doctor stood beside her.
Evelyn Carter.
Her mother.
Natalie's face went numb.
“She did this to me.”
“She did it to herself first,” Holloway said.
Natalie looked at him.
“What?”
“My father and your mother were subjects.”
“They were?”
“Yes.”
“They tested Echo on themselves.”
Natalie stared at the photograph.
Then she noticed something.
A handwritten note beneath it.
SUBJECT 07 RESISTS MEMORY SUPPRESSION.
Her mother had written another sentence beneath it.
SHE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.
Natalie's hands trembled.
“No.”
Briggs stepped closer.
“The suppression didn't work.”
“Then why don't I remember?”
“Because you made a choice.”
“What choice?”
“You asked them to make you forget.”
“Why?”
Briggs hesitated.
“Because you killed someone.”
Natalie looked at him.
“Who?”
He stared at her.
“Your mother.”
Silence.
Natalie shook her head.
“She was alive.”
“Not after Night Glass.”
A voice came through the speaker.
“You're getting close.”
Natalie looked upward.
Her mother's voice again.
“Very close.”
The room lights activated.
A camera turned toward Natalie.
“Come upstairs.”
Natalie stepped toward it.
“Why?”
The voice answered.
“Because I have something you left behind.”
“What?”
A long pause.
Then:
“Your daughter.”
Everyone froze.
Natalie's face went blank.
“My daughter?”
Ward looked at Briggs.
Briggs whispered:
May you like
“Natalie...”
But Natalie was already running toward the exit.
Related Stories
