“Ashley, wait!”

  His words didn’t reach her. The door burst open, and as he gave chase, she rounded the corner and vanished.

  “Shit… how does she run that fast in heels?” he muttered.

  At least her path was obvious. Confused whispers and lingering glances from the employees made an easy yellow brick road. He was halfway down it when a relieved voice called out behind him.

  “Sir, I’ve finally found you! I tried your cell, but I couldn’t reach you.”

  Swiveling back, a guard stood at attention and saluted him.

  “Sorry about that,” Schafer said. “I’ve… misplaced it.”

  “Oh? Guess even you have your moments,” the guard chuckled.

  Schafer gave a curt nod and sighed, “What’s the issue?”

  “It’s…” The guard lowered his voice, stepping closer. “The security cameras. There’s a massive gap in the footage. And a discrepancy in the access logs.”

  Schafer raised an eyebrow, “What?”

  “I think there may be a security risk,” the guard said quietly. “I’d like you to take a look.”

  Schafer clicked his tongue and glanced back down the hallway. After a moment, he sighed.

  “Let’s go.”

  Ashley was smart. She could sort this out on her own. They’d talk once she calmed down. He’d explain the transfers, which she would obviously be selected for. She would be at the top of his list.

  Matthew would come next. He’d been here longer than Schafer himself, after all. Then a handful of researchers.

  Schafer’s eyes flicked to the guard, and he shut them briefly.

  By company standards, they weren’t essential to the facility’s function. They’d be cut.

  Even if he wanted to bring them along, corporate wouldn’t allow it. All he could do was ensure they received their final paycheck and wish them well. An unfortunate circumstance, but out of his hands.

  The guard keyed the security office door and gestured inside.

  Schafer’s eyes immediately went to the wall of monitors, each displaying a different camera feed. One caught his attention, featuring a raven-haired woman entering the frame with a boy trailing behind her.

  What was Ashley doing? And why was Jacob with her?

  Was she telling him about the mass layoff? No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t cause unnecessary panic like that. Whatever her faults, she knew better.

  “Right here, sir,” the guard called.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Schafer stepped to his side. Multiple feeds flickered on and changed, perspectives jumping every second. Then stopped.

  Nothing.

  “A couple hours of footage from the entire northern wing was deleted,” the guard said, tapping at the controls. The void remained. “We don’t know why.”

  “Any chance it was accidental?”

  “One camera, maybe. The whole wing? No. Not at this scale.” He shook his head. “It had to be intentional.”

  A knot tightened in Schafer’s stomach.

  “So,” he said slowly, “someone deleted it.”

  The guard hesitated, “I’d like to be wrong, sir. But… yes.”

  Schafer exhaled through his nose and glanced back at the wall of monitors. Two figures that had been there moments ago were gone.

  “And the logs?”

  “There’s an issue there too.”

  The screen flooded with text. The guard pointed.

  “Your account was used twice today. Once from your office, which I'm assuming was you. The other was from Lab Five."

  “Lab five…” Schafer repeated.

  There was no need to think long. That lab could only point to one culprit.

  She had turned it into her personal playground. Not regulation, but permitted due to her past achievements. Few people knew the details. Besides him, Schafer was fairly certain only Ava did.

  Now the issue was explaining it all.

  “That wasn’t me,” Schafer said. “But I know who it was.”

  The guard blinked, “You do?”

  “Miss Sinclair. I had her reviewing files before her permissions were updated. I shared my account to make things easier.”

  The guard’s eyes widened, “Sir, you can't—"

  “I know,” Schafer cut in. “But when I’m drowning in work, missing an assistant for a month, and corporate delays her authorization? What exactly would you suggest?”

  The guard scratched the back of his head, “I get it. Still… I’ll have to report this.”

  Schafer shrugged, “Go ahead.”

  The guard leaned back toward the monitor, “At least I didn’t have to reset—" He stopped.

  “What is it?” Schafer asked.

  “Northern wing. Lab seventeen. One minute ago.” The guard swallowed. “Was that her too?”

  “What?”

  “Your account just signed in again.”

  Schafer scanned the monitors. Ashley was nowhere in sight. And even if she were, why sign in twice?

  A voice then whispered in the back of his mind, getting louder and louder as the thought surfaced, sharp and unwelcome.

  “Get a team there,” Schafer said. “Just in case.”

  The guard was already barking orders into his radio. Schafer moved to follow, but a hand stopped him.

  “If you suspect something, I need you to stay here,” the guard said firmly. “For your safety.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “No. I insist.” He gestured to the radios. “You’ll be more useful relaying information.”

  Schafer groaned and grabbed a radio. “Fine.”

  “Channel eleven," the guard said, shutting the door behind him.

  Chatter burst through the speaker as he finished turning the dial. Commands were issued and acknowledged with clipped urgency.

  Raising the radio near his face, Schafer asked, “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the reply. “Find the camera for lab seventeen. Notify us if anyone exits.”

  “Got it.”

  Analyzing the wall, he found a feed angled at a door labeled Lab Seventeen.

  Burning a hole into the image, Schafer leaned down and let the console support his weight.

  The handle turned.

  The door creaked open.

  The edge of a white coat slipped into view—

  Then the earth lurched.

  A muffled boom echoed from outside the room. The floor vanished, and the control panel rushed towards his face.

  Pain.

  Then nothing.