CHAPTER 8 THE NIGHT SOMEONE TRIED TO KILL RICHARD
The red emergency lights pulsed across the executive floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then every monitor went black.
For a moment, nobody moved.
The silence was worse than the alarms.
I could hear my own breathing.
Then Dr. Helena Ward's voice came through the speakers again.
“Maya…”
Her voice trembled.
“You need to listen to me.”
Richard raised his gun toward the ceiling.
“Helena, where are you?”
No answer.
I stepped toward the nearest monitor.
“Why did my father say not to trust you?”
Static.
Then Helena answered.
“Because he knew what I had done.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you do?”
A long pause.
“I made the first mistake.”
The speakers clicked.
Then died.
Miguel looked at me.
“We need to leave.”
I didn't move.
“You said I was the first person to survive Nightfall.”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means the procedure they used on you failed.”
“Failed?”
“You remembered.”
“Eventually.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
His eyes were full of something I couldn't identify.
“Not eventually.”
He looked at the frozen screens.
“You remembered immediately.”
I stared at him.
“Then why don't I remember?”
“Because they didn't erase your memories.”
My blood went cold.
“They buried them.”
Richard pulled the office door open.
The hallway was empty.
“Enough,” he said. “We move now.”
We followed him.
Valerie stayed close behind me.
Miguel walked beside her.
I noticed they exchanged a glance.
A silent conversation.
I stopped.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Neither answered.
I looked at Miguel.
“You've been keeping secrets from me for four years.”
“Maya—”
“No.”
My voice cracked.
“I want the truth.”
Richard turned around.
“We don't have time.”
“I don't care.”
A gunshot exploded at the far end of the corridor.
Glass shattered.
Everyone ducked.
Richard shoved me behind a concrete pillar.
Another bullet struck the wall.
“Sniper,” Valerie whispered.
Richard looked toward the windows.
“No.”
“What?”
“Too close.”
He pointed toward the opposite stairwell.
“Shooter is inside.”
A third shot.
The bullet tore through the conference-room door behind us.
Richard raised his weapon.
“Stay here.”
He moved.
I grabbed his arm.
“You can't.”
He looked at me.
“I'm the only one here who knows how to hunt.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
Gunfire erupted.
Two shots.
Three.
Then silence.
“Richard!”
I ran.
Miguel caught my wrist.
“Wait.”
“Let go.”
“He knows what he's doing.”
“He's alone.”
“No.”
Miguel looked down the hallway.
“Not anymore.”
We heard footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Fast.
I raised my gun.
A figure emerged.
Richard.
Blood covered his sleeve.
“I'm fine.”
“You're bleeding.”
“It's superficial.”
“What happened?”
“I got the shooter.”
“Who?”
Richard looked down.
A dead security officer lay behind him.
His face was unfamiliar.
But something caught my attention.
A small tattoo on his wrist.
Three vertical lines.
Valerie went pale.
“That's Nightfall.”
Richard looked at her.
“You recognize it?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
She swallowed.
“Internal enforcement.”
Miguel's face hardened.
“Kill team.”
I stared at the body.
“They sent a kill team inside Vitalis?”
Valerie nodded.
“For Richard.”
I looked at him.
“Why now?”
Richard's answer was quiet.
“Because they know I can walk.”
We reached a secure conference room.
Richard locked the door.
Then he pulled off his blood-soaked jacket.
A bullet had grazed his upper arm.
I cleaned the wound while he sat on the edge of the table.
“You should have gone to a hospital.”
“No hospitals.”
“Why?”
“Because Nightfall owns people inside them.”
I tightened the bandage.
He winced.
“Sorry.”
“You don't sound sorry.”
“I am.”
“No, you're angry.”
I looked at him.
“Yes.”
“At me?”
“At everyone.”
I finished the bandage.
“You knew my father.”
Richard was silent.
“How well?”
“Not well enough.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He looked away.
“My father worked with Julian.”
“For Level 7?”
“Yes.”
“Was Richard Vance Senior involved in Nightfall?”
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“Yes.”
The room went silent.
I stepped back.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew your father was involved.”
“I knew he funded neurological research.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Richard looked at me.
“I didn't know about Nightfall until after my accident.”
“Then why did you keep his files?”
“Because I thought they might explain why someone wanted me dead.”
I stared at him.
“And now?”
“Now I know.”
He opened the encrypted drive.
A file appeared.
PROJECT NIGHTFALL — ORIGIN
Richard clicked it.
The first document appeared.
A photograph.
My father.
Dr. Helena Ward.
Richard's father.
And a fourth person.
A young man.
I leaned closer.
“Who is that?”
Richard's expression changed.
“My uncle.”
“Who was he?”
“Dr. Nathan Vance.”
Valerie stepped closer.
“He was the original director of Level 7.”
I looked at Richard.
“Where is he now?”
Richard shook his head.
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“How?”
“Suicide.”
I stared at the photograph.
My father's face looked terrified.
Richard's father's face looked furious.
Helena looked uncertain.
Nathan looked calm.
Too calm.
I pointed at him.
“He started Nightfall.”
Richard nodded.
“And after he died, who took control?”
Richard looked at the document.
Then at me.
“Adrian Cole.”
The room suddenly filled with a sharp electronic tone.
The encrypted drive flashed.
REMOTE ACCESS DETECTED.
Richard unplugged it.
Too late.
The screen changed.
A live video appeared.
Adrian Cole.
He was sitting in a dark room.
His hands folded calmly on a desk.
He looked directly at the camera.
“Richard.”
Richard stared at the screen.
“Cole.”
Cole smiled.
“You've become difficult to kill.”
Richard said nothing.
Cole looked at me.
“And Maya.”
I stepped closer.
“You know me.”
“I know everything about you.”
“You killed my father.”
Cole's smile disappeared.
“No.”
He leaned toward the camera.
“Your father killed himself.”
“Liar.”
“He discovered what Nightfall could become.”
Cole paused.
“He was afraid.”
“My father wasn't afraid of you.”
“No.”
Cole smiled again.
“He was afraid of you.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Why?”
“Because Julian realized you had inherited something from him.”
“What?”
“Resistance.”
I frowned.
Cole continued.
“Most subjects lost memories when exposed to the neural suppression protocol.”
He looked at me.
“You didn't.”
“Why?”
“Your brain adapted.”
I said nothing.
“You remembered every time we erased you.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Cole's voice became softer.
“That's why your father begged us to stop.”
My breathing became shallow.
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because we discovered something extraordinary.”
He smiled.
“You could retain memory without consciously accessing it.”
Richard stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Maya became a living archive.”
The room went silent.
Cole continued.
“Every memory they tried to erase remained somewhere inside her.”
I looked at Miguel.
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
Cole noticed.
“You understand now, Miguel.”
Miguel raised his head.
“You injected her.”
Cole smiled.
“You did exactly what Julian asked.”
I stared at Miguel.
Cole continued.
“He told you to suppress her conscious memories so Nightfall couldn't extract them.”
My voice was barely audible.
“My father ordered it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian knew they would eventually torture you.”
Cole's smile faded.
“He thought hiding the memories would save you.”
“Did it?”
“No.”
Cole leaned closer.
“It only delayed the inevitable.”
The screen went black.
Then one final message appeared:
MAYA TORRES — MEMORY RECOVERY: 68%
I stared at the number.
Richard whispered:
“You've remembered more than you think.”
We left Vitalis through a maintenance tunnel.
Richard insisted we couldn't return to the mansion.
Too compromised.
Instead, we went to a safe apartment Samuel had arranged years earlier.
The building was old.
Unmarked.
Anonymous.
Exactly what we needed.
At 7:42 in the morning, Samuel joined us.
He took one look at Richard's arm.
“You've been shot.”
“Grazed.”
“Same difference.”
Samuel looked at me.
“What happened?”
I told him.
Everything.
The recording.
Miguel.
Cole.
Nightfall.
The photographs.
My father's warning.
When I finished, Samuel sat silently.
Then he asked:
“Did Cole mention Dr. Ward?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing specific.”
Samuel looked at Valerie.
“You were the one who hid Ward.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Cole wanted her dead.”
Samuel leaned back.
“Then we have a problem.”
“What?”
“Dr. Ward isn't hiding from Cole.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“She disappeared voluntarily.”
Valerie looked confused.
“She was terrified.”
Samuel nodded.
“She was also working with someone.”
“Who?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Your father.”
I stared.
“My father died four years ago.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you saying?”
Samuel opened a file.
Inside was a photograph.
Julian Torres.
Alive.
Taken three days after the date of his supposed death.
My knees almost gave out.
“That isn't possible.”
Samuel placed another photograph beside it.
Julian standing outside a motel.
And beside him—
Dr. Helena Ward.
I stared at the image.
“Where were they going?”
“According to the surveillance report?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Here.”
He turned the photograph over.
A handwritten address.
BLACK CREEK FARM.
The same address Valerie had given us.
I looked at her.
“You said Helena was there.”
“Yes.”
“Then my father was there too.”
Valerie nodded.
“But only once.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Samuel.
“Then whose body was buried under my father's name?”
Nobody answered.
At noon, we drove toward Black Creek Farm.
The rain had stopped.
The sky was gray.
Richard sat in the back with Miguel.
I drove.
Valerie sat beside me.
For twenty minutes, no one spoke.
Then she said:
“You hate me.”
I kept my eyes on the road.
“I don't know you well enough to hate you.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew about Miguel.”
I glanced at her.
“He told me.”
“I knew he was trying to protect you.”
“Then why did you text him?”
Valerie looked down.
“I needed his help.”
“With what?”
“My father.”
I frowned.
“What about him?”
“He was one of Cole's investors.”
I felt my hands tighten around the steering wheel.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know you're helping us?”
“No.”
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
I looked at her.
She gave a humorless smile.
“You're starting to see the pattern.”
People who knew too much died.
People who tried to expose Nightfall disappeared.
People who survived were forced into silence.
And somehow, I was still alive.
Black Creek Farm appeared just before sunset.
An old farmhouse stood surrounded by trees.
No lights.
No cars.
No signs of life.
Richard checked his weapon.
“Too quiet.”
Miguel nodded.
“Agreed.”
We entered carefully.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, dust covered everything.
A kitchen.
Two bedrooms.
A living room.
Nothing unusual.
Then I saw the wall.
Photographs.
Dozens of them.
My father.
Me.
Miguel.
Dr. Ward.
Richard.
Ethan.
Ofelia.
Valerie.
My entire life was pinned to that wall.
I stepped closer.
One photograph stopped me.
It showed me at twenty-eight.
Standing beside my father.
Behind us was a laboratory.
And in the corner—
Adrian Cole.
But that wasn't the shocking part.
My father was holding my hand.
And I was smiling.
Not frightened.
Not confused.
Smiling.
As if I knew exactly what was happening.
I touched the photograph.
A memory struck.
My father whispering:
“Maya, if anything happens to me, remember the red door.”
Then another.
A red door.
A laboratory.
Miguel beside me.
Helena crying.
Cole shouting.
Ofelia standing behind him.
And Richard's father holding a gun.
I gasped.
Richard grabbed my shoulders.
“What did you see?”
I stared at him.
“Your father.”
Richard went still.
“He was there.”
“When?”
“The night they took me.”
Richard's face changed.
“What was he doing?”
I closed my eyes.
“He was pointing a gun.”
“At you?”
“No.”
“At my father.”
Silence.
Then I remembered something else.
A sound.
A gunshot.
My father falling.
Ofelia screaming.
Miguel grabbing me.
Helena shouting:
“Get her out!”
Then—
Richard's father lowered the gun.
And someone behind him fired again.
My father collapsed.
I opened my eyes.
“It wasn't your father.”
Richard looked confused.
“What?”
“He didn't kill Julian.”
“Then who did?”
I turned toward the photograph wall.
There was one face I hadn't noticed before.
A man standing behind everyone else.
Half-hidden.
Watching.
I stepped closer.
My heart stopped.
It was the same man who had held the gun in the laboratory.
Adrian Cole.
But beneath the photograph was a handwritten note.
COLE WASN'T THE SHOOTER.
I stared.
Richard walked beside me.
“Then who was?”
I looked at the next photograph.
My breath caught.
The shooter wasn't a man.
It was a woman.
A woman standing directly behind Cole.
Her face was partially hidden.
But I knew the coat.
The posture.
The hair.
The hands.
I whispered:
“No…”
Miguel stepped closer.
“What?”
I pointed.
“That woman.”
Everyone looked.
Then the farmhouse lights suddenly turned on.
A voice came from upstairs.
“You finally remembered.”
We all raised our weapons.
Dr. Helena Ward stepped onto the balcony.
She looked older.
Exhausted.
Terrified.
But alive.
“Maya,” she said.
I stared at her.
“Who shot my father?”
Helena's eyes filled with tears.
“I did.”
The room went silent.
Miguel whispered:
“No.”
Richard lowered his weapon.
Helena looked directly at me.
“I didn't kill him.”
She took one step forward.
“I shot him because he was already dying.”
My blood ran cold.
“What are you talking about?”
She looked toward the wall of photographs.
“Your father wasn't the man who died that night.”
I couldn't breathe.
Helena continued:
“The man buried as Julian Torres was a decoy.”
She looked at me.
“Your father survived.”
My heart stopped.
“Where is he?”
Helena's expression broke.
“He's been alive for four years.”
I stared at her.
“Where?”
She whispered:
“Under Vitalis.”
Then every light in the farmhouse went dark.
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
Miguel fell.
I screamed his name.
Richard fired into the darkness.
And somewhere outside—
a car engine roared to life.
The killers had found us.
May you like
And this time, they weren't trying to scare us.
They were trying to finish the job.
