Trials of the Test Subjects

Chapter 10: Shadows in Pursuit

The stairwell stretched upward, dim and foreboding, each step creaking as we ascended. The faint sounds of activity echoed below us—muffled voices, footsteps, and the metallic clink of equipment. We moved quickly but quietly, our senses on high alert.

At the top of the stairs, we slipped through another doorway, emerging into a narrow hallway lined with metal panels and harsh, industrial lighting. My fingers instinctively brushed the night vision goggles resting on my head, prepared to lower them if the lights went out again.

“Where does this lead?” Sera whispered, glancing around nervously.

The technician scanned the surroundings, a slight frown creasing their brow. “This should take us closer to the main access routes. But we’ll need to stay out of sight. Security doesn’t exactly… overlook this section.”

We continued down the corridor, the silence tense and oppressive. The faint hum of machinery vibrated through the walls, a steady reminder of how isolated we were in this hidden part of the facility.

A door ahead creaked open, and Lyn raised a hand, signaling us to halt. We ducked into a recessed doorway, peering out as two figures in orderly uniforms strode down the hall, their expressions hard and focused. They stopped just a few feet from us, exchanging low, indistinct words.

I held my breath, every muscle tensed. A bead of sweat trickled down my brow as I glanced at Lyn and Sera. We shared the same thought: if they found us, we’d be trapped.

The orderlies turned, heading in the opposite direction, their footsteps fading down the corridor. We waited a beat, then continued forward, exhaling in relief.

“Almost there,” the technician murmured, pushing open a door that led into a dark, expansive room. “This storage area connects to one of the main hallways. We should be able to—”

A loud alarm blared suddenly, piercing the silence and flooding the hallway with flashing red lights. My stomach dropped.

“They know we’re here,” Sera whispered, her face pale.

“Go, now!” Lyn urged, and we sprinted into the room, scattering between shelves packed with old medical equipment, machines, and supplies.

The door burst open behind us as the orderlies stormed in, their flashlights sweeping across the shelves. I pulled down my night vision goggles and ducked behind a metal cabinet, heart pounding as beams of light swept past.

We huddled in the shadows, listening to the orderlies' footsteps drawing closer.

“This isn’t right,” one of them muttered. “They shouldn’t have gotten this far.”

“Search every aisle. They couldn’t have gone far,” another replied, their voice cold and determined.

I exchanged a glance with Lyn, who motioned for us to stay quiet. He gestured toward an emergency exit sign barely visible in the corner of the room, and we nodded.

Silently, we began to crawl between the shelves, inching closer to the exit. The orderlies’ footsteps grew louder, their flashlights sweeping dangerously close. I held my breath, praying they wouldn’t spot us.

Just as we reached the exit door, the technician pushed it open carefully, glancing back at us. “Go, quickly!”

One by one, we slipped through the doorway, emerging into a stairwell bathed in the eerie red glow of the emergency lights. We didn’t stop, racing up the stairs, leaving the sounds of pursuit behind us.

When we reached the next landing, Lyn yanked open the door, and we stumbled into another corridor—this one brightly lit and sterile, a sharp contrast to the dim, foreboding halls we’d just left behind.

For a moment, we caught our breath, glancing around. The hall stretched out before us, empty and silent, and a glimmer of hope flickered in my chest. We were closer to freedom.

But as we took a step forward, a voice crackled over the intercom, cold and detached: “Subjects 345, 346, and 347, you cannot escape. Return to your designated holding areas immediately.”

I felt a chill run down my spine, but Lyn squared his shoulders, his gaze fierce. “Let’s keep moving,” he said, determination hardening his voice. “We’re not going back.”

And with that, we pushed forward, refusing to let the walls of this twisted facility contain us any longer.