Chapter 14 · The File With His Name

"Locked."

Eli stares at the filing cabinet. Maya's keycard's in one hand, crowbar in the other, and the metal drawer won't budge. Emergency lights overhead flicker red every few seconds. His breath fogs in the cold.

Rachel's topside. Marcus said one hour to keep the route open. That was twenty minutes ago.

He jams the crowbar into the gap above the top drawer.

Metal screams. The lock holds.

"Come on." He leans his whole weight into it. His hands won't stop shaking—three stories down a rusted ladder with chunks missing, one palm glowing the whole way just to see. The light in his skin's almost gone now. Dim. Dying. He can't waste it.

The lock snaps.

The drawer jerks open six inches and stops. Eli drops the crowbar—it clangs loud enough to make him flinch—and yanks the drawer the rest of the way.

Files. Dozens of them, crammed tight. All labeled with numbers and letters. Subject 22-A. Subject 19-C. All fifteen years old. All kids.

He pulls one. There's a photo clipped to the front. A little girl, maybe five, staring at nothing. Someone wrote NONVIABLE in red marker across her face.

His stomach turns.