Chapter 9 - SEVEN DOORS
The federal agents could not reach the lower corridor through the stairs.
The tank mechanism had collapsed across the entrance.
Daniel pressed one hand against his wound and pointed toward the freight controls.
“There is another access route beneath the alignment pit.”
Nathan ordered medics to take him outside.
Daniel refused.
“I designed it. You need me.”
I knelt beside him.
“You were shot.”
“So were the children if we leave.”
The baby moved inside me.
I looked toward the banging beneath the floor.
“I’m going.”
Nathan shook his head.
“You are seven months pregnant.”
“So were some of their mothers.”
We crossed the workshop to the maintenance pit.
Michael and Tyler lifted the steel cover.
A ladder descended into darkness.
Nathan went first.
I followed slowly.
Every movement hurt.
Below us, chemical fluid had begun leaking through the ceiling pipes.
Daniel directed us through his radio from above.
“Turn left at the generator.”
We reached a corridor with seven doors.
Each had a number.
Each had a child behind it.
Nathan unlocked Room One.
A boy around ten stepped out carrying a younger child.
Room Two contained twin girls.
Room Three was empty.
Lily’s room.
Room Four held a teenage boy connected to an IV.
Room Five contained a crib.
The infant inside was alive.
Room Six opened into a medical lab.
No child.
Only records.
Room Seven required a separate code.
Daniel tried every password he remembered.
Denied.
Water mixed with chemical solution spread across the floor.
The vapor thickened.
A voice came from behind Room Seven.
A woman.
“Please!”
Nathan looked at me.
Not a child.
He forced the lock with a hydraulic tool.
The door opened.
A pregnant woman lay restrained on an examination bed.
Her face was bruised.
Her stomach looked full term.
She stared at me.
“Sarah?”
I froze.
I had never seen her.
“How do you know me?”
She began crying.
“Jason showed me your pictures.”
Her name was Megan.
Jason had promised to help her escape an abusive marriage.
Instead, he delivered her to Dr. Cross.
Her baby was scheduled for transfer that night.
I cut the straps from her wrists.
Nathan called for additional medics.
Then Megan said,
“There’s another room.”
Daniel denied it through the radio.
“I designed seven.”
“Dr. Cross built an eighth.”
“Where?”
Megan pointed beneath her bed.
A trapdoor.
Nathan opened it.
Cold air rose from below.
We descended.
The hidden chamber contained a single incubator.
Inside lay a newborn baby girl.
A label was attached to the glass.
SARAH MILLER.
May you like
I stopped breathing.
The date of birth was six months earlier.
