Chapter 5: The Ashes of Blackwood Clinic
The old clinic had been abandoned for nearly twelve years.
At least, that was what every public record claimed.
Colonel James Bennett parked his SUV a hundred yards away, studying the weathered brick building through a pair of binoculars. The faded sign still read BLACKWOOD WOMEN'S CENTER, though half the letters had fallen away. Ivy climbed the walls like veins reclaiming forgotten flesh.
Daniel Brooks stepped out beside him.
"The county says it was condemned after a fire."
James lowered the binoculars.
"Fires destroy buildings."
He looked at the shattered second-floor windows.
"They don't erase records."
A cold wind swept across the empty parking lot.
The place felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too untouched.
Daniel motioned toward the rear entrance.
"No signs of squatters."
James nodded.
"Which usually means someone is keeping people away."
Inside, the air smelled of dust, mold, and old smoke.
Broken wheelchairs lay scattered across the reception area. Water stains stretched across the ceiling. Medical charts were strewn across the floor, their pages warped from years of dampness.
James crouched beside one chart.
Blank.
Every patient name had been cut away with surgical precision.
"Someone came back," Daniel said.
"And they knew exactly what to remove."
They continued deeper into the building.
A faded floor directory hung crookedly on the wall.
Room 214. Second Floor. Maternity Wing.
James exchanged a glance with Daniel.
Neither spoke.
They climbed the stairs.
Each step groaned beneath their weight.
Halfway up, James stopped.
"Listen."
Daniel held his breath.
A faint metallic sound echoed somewhere above them.
Click.
...Click.
Not footsteps.
A chain.
Swinging gently.
As though a door had just been opened.
Room 214 stood at the end of a long corridor.
Its wooden door was slightly ajar.
Daniel carefully pushed it open.
Sunlight streamed through cracked blinds, illuminating a room frozen in time.
An examination bed.
A rusted IV stand.
A cabinet with one drawer hanging open.
And on the far wall...
Dozens of photographs.
Every picture had been pinned in neat rows.
Pregnant women.
Some smiling.
Some frightened.
None of them were labeled.
James stepped closer.
His eyes moved from face to face.
Then he froze.
One photograph showed Emily.
She couldn't have been older than seventeen.
She was standing outside a school, laughing with friends.
She wasn't pregnant.
She had never been inside this clinic.
Or so she believed.
"How is this possible?" Daniel whispered.
James removed the photograph from the wall.
Behind it, another note had been taped to the plaster.
Targets are chosen long before they know they're being watched.
A chill settled over the room.
Someone had been collecting information for years.
Daniel searched the cabinets.
Most were empty.
Until he opened the bottom drawer.
Inside lay a metal lockbox coated in dust.
The lock had already been broken.
Someone else had opened it before them.
There was only one item left inside.
An old cassette tape.
James frowned.
"A cassette?"
Daniel smiled faintly.
"Sometimes old technology survives because nobody thinks to look for it."
Taped to the cassette was a handwritten label.
Interview 27. Never archived.
Back at the hospital...
Emily couldn't sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ryan's face.
A soft knock came at her door.
"Come in."
A young nurse entered with a tray.
"Your medication."
Emily accepted the cup.
Something felt... off.
The nurse smiled.
"I haven't seen you before."
"I'm covering another shift."
Emily looked at her name badge.
The plastic had been scratched so badly she couldn't read the name.
Before she could ask another question, the nurse left.
Emily stared at the pills.
She remembered something her father had taught her as a little girl.
If something feels wrong, don't ignore it just because you can't explain why.
Instead of swallowing the medication, she slipped the pills beneath her pillow.
Minutes later, another nurse entered.
"You haven't taken your evening medicine?"
Emily frowned.
"I already did."
The nurse looked confused.
"No one has been assigned to your room for the past twenty minutes."
Emily's blood ran cold.
At Blackwood Clinic...
Daniel found an old portable cassette player in a storage room.
Against all odds...
It still worked.
He inserted the tape.
Static filled the room.
Then a man's voice.
Calm.
Professional.
"Interview Number Twenty-Seven."
A woman's frightened voice answered.
"I don't want to do this anymore."
"State your name."
Silence.
Then...
"My name is Sarah Collins."
James and Daniel listened carefully.
"I was told these women would receive medical care."
"They trusted us."
The interviewer asked,
"What happened instead?"
Sarah began crying.
"They chose the babies."
Daniel looked up.
"What does that mean?"
The recording continued.
"If a child matched certain requirements..."
The tape crackled.
"...someone came to collect the file."
James felt every muscle in his body tense.
"What requirements?" he whispered.
The tape skipped again.
"...family history..."
"...blood type..."
"...financial value..."
Then...
The recording stopped.
Not because it had ended.
Because the tape had been cut.
The remaining spool had been physically removed.
Daniel slowly ejected the cassette.
"They erased the ending."
James turned toward the doorway.
"No."
"They wanted whoever found this to know just enough."
At that exact moment...
A floorboard creaked somewhere in the hallway.
Neither man had moved.
They weren't alone.
James quietly reached for his flashlight.
The beam swept across the corridor.
Empty.
Then...
A door at the far end swung shut.
May you like
Someone had been listening to every word.
And they had just started running.
