CHUPACABRA

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Evolution

This time, she doesn't make the same mistake. Forty knows this new section of the gray floor like the back of her hand, has been led through it by Dr. Hanna many times. It's not far off from the main section, just a few confusing turns down. There aren't any safe doors either, just the standard handle ones the humans use for low security areas.

Forty-Five's domicile is deceptively silent in the quiet of midnight. Forty's old domicile sits next to it, the doors open to signal it's empty. She tries not to stare inside as she walks past, the memories still fresh in her mind. Forty inspects the ID lock from top to bottom, eventually finding her original plan to break in silently is going to need a revision. Searching around the specimen room, Forty spots a fire extinguisher. Using her good hand to grasp the handle, she swings the metal tank into the lock pad. It makes a long, echoing clank, and she would be surprised if no one heard the crumble of the metal around the keypad. Still, the doors groan and begin to part.

Forty-Five is in her bed, staring at the door like she's seen a ghost. Forty drops the fire extinguisher, offering her hand to her. "I told you I'd come back for you," she whispers.

Forty-Five gives her a feral grin, leaping out of bed to slide her shoes on and take Forty's hand. She doesn't hesitate, has no real reason to. There's no personal items to pack, no emotional goodbyes to make. All that's left is to move on.

"I gueth I thould have known better than to doubt you," Forty-Five snorts, but the look of admiration in her eyes is genuine. She looks ready to cry, so many emotions passing through her gaze. There's the fear of discovery, the relief of finally being free. Forty knows that contradiction well, felt it every single day of her time in the wild.

"I'll take care of you from here," Forty says, leading her in the direction of the stairs. "But first you have to help me."

"I can do that," Forty-Five says, her voice barely distinguishable from the hum of the computer monitors.

There are two sets of stairs leading to Dr. Taft's apartment. One stems directly from the hallway near the monitor room. The usually clever man made the mistake of being lazy and taking Forty through this shortcut just a few hours ago. The smell of dog is still fresh in the air, too. Forty-Five wrinkles her nose.

"We should take two rights and a left once we get up these stairs, then there will be a door. I saw Ben come out of it. I could bet you anything Thirty-Seven is in there," Forty says. She takes the stairs in two, Forty-Five not quite as graceful behind her.

Forty jogs down the short hallway, slowing down at the bend to take the first right. However, where there had once been an open hallway, a safe door now separates this section of the bend from the rest. Forty skids to a stop. "What?" she asks to the open air, hearing Forty-Five sidle up beside her. "This wasn't here before."

Forty-Five walks up to the door, opening her mouth to scent the air. There's red gashes where her teeth usually rest, but they serve as a reminder that Forty-Five has exceptional senses. Her eyebrows quirk when she catches a trail, and she pauses by the crack in the door. She turns to Forty, a quizzical look on her face.

"He doethn't keep anyone up here but Thirty-Theven right?" she asks, taking one last deep inhale. "It doethn't thmell like him."

"What do you mean 'it'?" Forty asks, her limbs locking up. No way Dr. Taft could have seen this coming.

"I thmell another thpethimen, but it'th very faint."

Forty walks up the door, pressing her nose against where the panels part. Faintly, she can pick up what Forty-Five is talking about, but she can't decide who the specimen is. All that she knows is it's definitely not Thirty-Seven.