Page 57 of Echoes From the Void

“Why?” The question barely makes it past my dry throat.

“Because you don’t belong here.” He turns to the filing cabinet, removing what looks like clothes. Real clothes, not asylum scrubs designed to remind us we’re not people anymore. “And because in twenty minutes, Valerie will check the security feeds and realize we didn’t go to the main lab for testing.”

I manage half the sandwich before nausea hits—real food too rich after years of calculated deprivation. But even that small amount makes my head clearer than it’s been in... I can’t remember how long. Can’t remember the last time I was allowed to think clearly.

“Good enough,” Dr. Chen says, already moving the wheelchair closer to a filing cabinet. His urgency is controlled but growing. “Can you change while I...” He trails off, pushing against the cabinet’s side. It moves with a soft scraping sound, revealing a narrow passage behind it.

This should feel like another trap. Something worse than the ballroom, than Valerie’s tests, than all the other times I thought someone might help only to learn it was just another lesson in obedience.

“Maintenance tunnel,” he explains briefly, returning to help me stand. The real clothes feel strange against my skin—jeans, a hoodie, shoes that actually have laces. Items Valerie would never allow because they might remind us of being human. “It leads to the old parking structure. There’s a car waiting. Keys under the mat.”

“Why?” I ask again, leaning heavily against him as we maneuver toward the passage. “Why help me?”

For a moment, that same grief flashes across his face. But all he says is, “Because some things are wrong. No matter how you try to justify them.”

A sound from the hallway makes us both freeze. Heels clicking against tile. Getting closer.

My heart stops. I know those footsteps. Know exactly what they mean.

“Go,” he urges, practically lifting me into the passage. “Follow it straight down. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.” His voice carries an edge of desperation now, knowing what’s coming.

“They’ll know it was you,” I manage, legs shaking with the effort to stand. With the knowledge of what Valerie does to people who defy her.

“They’ll suspect. Won’t be able to prove it.” He starts to push the cabinet back. “Francesca? When you get out... live. Really live. That’s all any of us can do.”

The cabinet slides shut, plunging me into darkness. Through the wall, I hear Valerie’s voice, sharp with suspicion. Dr. Chen’s calm responses.

I run.

The darkness is absolute. My fingers trail along cold concrete as I stumble forward, legs threatening to give out with each step. Five years of enforced weakness make every movement a battle. The tunnel feels endless, my breaths too loud in the confined space.

One foot in front of the other.

Don’t think about how long it’s been since you walked.

Don’t think about what’s behind you.

Don’t—

The gunshot echoes through the tunnel, making me freeze.

One shot.

Two.

Three.

Then silence.

My legs give out, knees hitting concrete as bile rises in my throat. Dr. Chen’s last words echo in my head: live, really live. Another person who tried to help. Another death I caused just by existing.

The sound of dogs barking snaps me back to reality. They’re distant, but in these tunnels, sound carries. They’ll find his office. Find the cabinet. Find?—

Me.

If they catch me, there won’t be any more chances. No more kind doctors. No more hope of escape. Just Valerie and her tests and the ballroom and?—

Live.

---