Chapter 12 · The Ninth Recording

The thing inside the archive knocked again.

Three hard hits.

Seren kept her pistol aimed at Ian’s chest. Her injured shoulder screamed every time the train rocked, but her hand stayed steady enough. Mostly.

Ian stood one step from the open hatch. Blood had soaked through the side of his shirt and dripped onto the metal floor. He looked pale. Too pale. Still, he kept watching her instead of the dark doorway behind him.

"Take one more step," Seren said, "and I put you down."

"You already did."

"Not recently."

His mouth tightened. "That depends on which version of tonight you remember."

Nora moved between them, one hand raised. Her identity chip blinked red at her throat. Thirty-eight seconds. Then thirty-seven.

"Seren, lower the gun."

"Why?"

"Because I’m standing in the middle of it."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the best one I’ve got."

The train lights flickered. Every dead passenger in the cars behind them turned their heads at the same time.

Mayor Halden remained slumped beside the black emotion box. His eyes were open, but his body had gone slack.