CHAPTER 10 — SUBJECT 18
The lock turned.
Slowly.
One click.
Then another.
Noah was pressed against my chest, his small fingers twisted tightly into my shirt.
Ryan stood between us and the door.
Evan had found an old metal pipe and held it like a weapon.
Nobody spoke.
Then the door opened.
Thomas Carter stepped inside.
He wasn't holding a gun.
He didn't need one.
The look on his face was enough to make the room feel smaller.
Behind him stood Diane.
And behind Diane were the three strangers from the library.
The woman with the syringe was smiling.
I tightened my arms around Noah.
“You're not taking him.”
Thomas looked at me.
“I didn't come for Noah.”
“Then leave.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because you have something that belongs to me.”
I looked around.
“The boy?”
“No.”
He pointed toward the wall.
“The records.”
Evan stepped forward.
“You've been hiding them for years.”
Thomas looked at him.
“I was trying to destroy them.”
“You created them.”
“Yes.”
“You experimented on children.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The admission stunned everyone.
Diane turned toward him.
“You're actually confessing now?”
Thomas ignored her.
He looked at me.
“I made unforgivable mistakes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That's one way to describe it.”
“I thought I could control the program.”
“You created the program.”
“Yes.”
“And when it went wrong?”
“I tried to stop it.”
“You didn't stop it.”
Thomas looked at Noah.
“I saved him.”
I pulled Noah closer.
“You don't get to call kidnapping and experimentation saving.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
His voice cracked.
“I know exactly what I did.”
For the first time, he looked less like the terrifying man from the photograph and more like an exhausted old man who had spent years running from his own crimes.
But I didn't trust him.
Not for a second.
“Then tell me what Subject 18 means.”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“Tell her.”
Ryan shook his head.
“You tell her.”
Thomas sighed.
“Subject 18 is not a child.”
I frowned.
“Then what is it?”
Thomas looked at me.
“It's a person.”
“That doesn't answer anything.”
“It means the experiment wasn't about creating a child.”
He pointed toward Noah.
“It was about identifying one.”
My stomach tightened.
“Identifying one for what?”
Thomas hesitated.
Then he said,
“For inheritance.”
Silence.
I looked at Ryan.
“Explain.”
Thomas walked toward the wall.
He touched Noah's name.
“Your son carries a rare genetic combination.”
“I've heard that.”
“You don't know what it means.”
“Then tell me.”
“Your bloodline carries a genetic marker that was once thought useless.”
Evan interrupted.
“Until Father discovered what it could do.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Yes.”
“What could it do?”
Thomas looked at Noah.
“It made certain people exceptionally resistant to a degenerative neurological disease.”
Ryan stared.
“My father had it.”
Thomas nodded.
“So did Evan.”
Evan's expression hardened.
“And so did you.”
Thomas said nothing.
I looked at him.
“Then why were children involved?”
“Because the marker only appeared in certain combinations.”
“Whose combinations?”
“Carter blood.”
“And mine?”
Thomas nodded.
“Your family carried another variation.”
I felt sick.
“So Noah was selected because of our DNA.”
“Yes.”
“You arranged my pregnancy.”
“No.”
“Then what did you arrange?”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“I arranged for Ryan to meet you.”
My entire body went cold.
Ryan looked devastated.
“Dad…”
“I knew you would hate me.”
“You manipulated my life.”
“Yes.”
“You manipulated Claire.”
“Yes.”
“You planned Noah.”
Thomas lowered his eyes.
“No.”
I stepped forward.
“You just said—”
“I identified the possibility.”
“What possibility?”
“That if Ryan married you, a child could inherit the marker.”
I stared at him.
“You used my life like a laboratory.”
“I was desperate.”
“You were a monster.”
Thomas accepted the word.
“Yes.”
Noah suddenly spoke.
“Mom.”
I turned.
“What?”
“What's a marker?”
I immediately knelt.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Thomas looked at him.
Noah shrank behind me.
Thomas's face changed.
He looked ashamed.
“I am sorry.”
Noah didn't answer.
I stood again.
“You're never touching him.”
Thomas nodded.
“I won't.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because Diane is about to destroy everything.”
Diane laughed.
“Don't blame me for your failures.”
Thomas turned toward her.
“You restarted the program.”
“I continued what you abandoned.”
“You hurt children.”
“I protected the family.”
“You tortured them.”
“I prepared them.”
“You killed them.”
Diane's face went cold.
“Careful.”
Thomas looked at her.
“You've killed more than I ever did.”
The room went silent.
Ryan stared at his mother.
“How many?”
Diane said nothing.
“How many children did you hurt?”
Still nothing.
Ryan's voice rose.
“HOW MANY?”
Diane finally looked at him.
“Twenty-three.”
I felt sick.
“You admitted it.”
“I did.”
“Where are they?”
“Some survived.”
“And the rest?”
She didn't answer.
Evan stepped forward.
“Their records are in this room.”
Diane looked at him.
“You should have stayed dead.”
Evan smiled bitterly.
“You tried.”
Ryan turned toward his mother.
“You tried to kill him?”
Diane's expression didn't change.
“He was a liability.”
“He was your son.”
“He was a threat.”
“You kidnapped him.”
“He ran.”
“You locked him underground.”
“He was unstable.”
“You changed his identity.”
“He needed protection.”
Ryan shook his head.
“You always had an excuse.”
Diane's eyes hardened.
“And you always had weakness.”
Ryan stepped toward her.
“No.”
He pointed at Noah.
“I have something you never had.”
“What?”
“A reason to stop being afraid of you.”
Diane stared at him.
Then smiled.
“You think this ends because you've finally grown a spine?”
“No.”
Ryan looked at me.
“It ends because Claire knows the truth.”
Diane laughed.
“She doesn't know everything.”
I stepped forward.
“Then tell me.”
Diane looked at me.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Your mother was involved.”
I froze.
“What?”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She signed the original agreement.”
“What agreement?”
Diane smiled.
“The agreement that allowed us to use your pregnancy.”
I felt the room tilt.
“You're lying.”
“Ask her.”
“I don't believe you.”
“You should.”
Thomas interrupted.
“Diane.”
“What?”
“Stop.”
“She deserves to know.”
“She has suffered enough.”
Diane looked at him.
“You don't get to decide that.”
I turned toward Thomas.
“What agreement?”
Thomas was silent.
“Tell me.”
He lowered his head.
“It existed.”
My heart shattered.
“What did my mother agree to?”
“That the child would be monitored.”
“For how long?”
“Until he reached eighteen.”
I stared at Noah.
“Eighteen?”
Thomas nodded.
“Why?”
“Because the marker reaches full expression around that age.”
My stomach turned.
“You were going to monitor my son until he was eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“And then what?”
Thomas didn't answer.
“WHAT?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“We didn't know.”
“You didn't know what?”
“What would happen.”
I looked at Diane.
She smiled.
“We did.”
Thomas turned sharply.
“Diane.”
She looked at me.
“At eighteen, Subject 17 would be transferred.”
“To where?”
“A private research facility.”
I felt rage explode inside me.
“You planned to take my son.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“On his eighteenth birthday.”
“He's eight.”
“Yes.”
“You were planning ten years ahead?”
“We planned everything.”
I looked at Ryan.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
Diane laughed.
“He knew enough.”
Ryan looked at her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You signed the consent form.”
Ryan froze.
“No.”
“You were the legal guardian.”
“I never signed anything.”
Diane nodded toward Thomas.
“Your father forged it.”
Thomas didn't deny it.
Ryan stared at him.
“You used my name.”
“Yes.”
“For my son.”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked broken.
“I trusted you.”
“I know.”
“You made me think I was protecting him.”
“You were supposed to.”
“But you were planning to take him.”
“Yes.”
Ryan turned away.
His shoulders shook.
I wanted to hate him.
I still did.
But for the first time, I understood that he had been manipulated too.
That didn't erase what he had done.
He had still obeyed Diane.
He had still told Noah to stay silent.
He had still failed to protect our son.
But he had not known the entire truth.
At least, not yet.
Then Evan spoke.
“There's something else.”
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed toward the wall.
“Subject 18 isn't Noah.”
Thomas nodded.
“No.”
I frowned.
“Then who?”
Evan looked at Ryan.
“You.”
Ryan stared.
“What?”
“Subject 18 is the person who carries the complete marker.”
Ryan shook his head.
“I don't have it.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“I saw your medical records.”
“My father said I didn't.”
“He lied.”
Ryan looked at Thomas.
“Is that true?”
Thomas nodded.
“Yes.”
Ryan's face went pale.
“So I'm Subject 18?”
“Yes.”
Diane smiled.
“Finally.”
I stepped between them.
“What happens to him?”
Thomas looked at Ryan.
“The disease.”
“What disease?”
“Your father developed symptoms when he was thirty-nine.”
Ryan was thirty-seven.
Evan was thirty-six when he disappeared.
I looked at Evan.
“That's why they were studying you.”
“Yes.”
“And Ryan?”
“They wanted his blood.”
I felt sick.
“All these years…”
Thomas nodded.
“They needed a living carrier.”
I looked at Noah.
“And Noah?”
“His blood may allow the treatment to work.”
I understood.
They weren't trying to hurt Noah simply because of the inheritance.
They wanted his genetic material.
But something still didn't make sense.
“Then why did Diane hurt him?”
Thomas looked at her.
“Because fear makes children easier to control.”
I turned toward Diane.
“You terrified him so he wouldn't tell me.”
“Yes.”
“You told Ryan to silence him.”
“Yes.”
“You were afraid I'd discover the truth.”
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“And you still think you're protecting this family?”
Diane's eyes hardened.
“I am.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You're protecting yourself.”
Her face changed.
For the first time, she looked genuinely afraid.
Then Evan reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small flash drive.
“I have the complete records.”
Thomas stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“From your office.”
Diane stepped forward.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“You don't understand what you're holding.”
“I understand perfectly.”
Evan held it up.
“Every child.”
“Every payment.”
“Every altered birth certificate.”
“Every transfer.”
“Every name.”
Diane's face went pale.
Ryan looked at Evan.
“Does it include Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Then we take it to the police.”
Thomas nodded.
“That is what should have happened years ago.”
Diane suddenly pulled a gun.
Everything happened at once.
She pointed it at Evan.
Ryan moved.
I grabbed Noah.
A gunshot exploded.
Evan fell.
“EVAN!”
Ryan rushed toward him.
Thomas grabbed Diane's wrist.
She fought him.
“Let go!”
“You're finished!”
She hit him.
The gun fired again.
The bullet struck the wall.
Noah screamed.
I covered his head.
“Mom!”
“I'm here!”
The room erupted into chaos.
Ryan dragged Evan behind a cabinet.
“Are you hit?”
Evan looked down.
Blood covered his sleeve.
“Shoulder.”
Ryan tore off part of his shirt.
“Hold this.”
Diane fought Thomas.
The three strangers moved toward the door.
I realized they were leaving.
They had no intention of staying.
I grabbed the flash drive from the floor.
One of the men saw me.
“Give that to me.”
“No.”
He lunged.
I stepped back.
Daniel suddenly appeared behind him.
He swung a metal chair.
The man fell.
Daniel stared at me.
“Run!”
I grabbed his hand.
“Where?”
He pointed toward the rear corridor.
“There is another exit.”
Ryan looked at me.
“Go!”
“What about you?”
“I'll get Evan.”
Thomas shouted,
“Take the children!”
We ran.
Daniel knew the tunnels.
He moved quickly.
I followed with Noah.
Behind us, I heard shouting.
Then another gunshot.
I almost turned around.
But Noah pulled my hand.
“Mom!”
We ran.
The corridor split.
Daniel pointed left.
“Not that way.”
“How do you know?”
“That's where Grandma keeps the bad room.”
I looked at him.
“What bad room?”
He didn't answer.
We took the right passage.
A metal ladder appeared.
Daniel climbed first.
Noah followed.
I climbed behind him.
We emerged inside an old storage shed outside the estate.
Cold night air hit my face.
I pulled Noah into my arms.
He buried his face against me.
“You're safe.”
He cried.
“I thought you were going to leave me.”
“Never.”
Daniel stood beside us.
I knelt.
“Thank you.”
He shrugged.
“Evan told me to help you.”
“Where is Evan now?”
Daniel looked back toward the house.
“Still inside.”
I wanted to go back.
But then I saw headlights approaching.
Not police.
Black SUVs.
Three.
Then four.
They stopped outside the estate.
Men stepped out.
Diane had called them.
Daniel grabbed my hand.
“We have to hide.”
“Where?”
He pointed toward a small stone building.
“Under there.”
We ran.
Inside was a tiny room.
Daniel moved an old wooden crate.
A trapdoor appeared.
We climbed down.
The space below was barely large enough for the three of us.
Noah curled against me.
I covered his mouth gently.
Above us, footsteps entered.
Men shouted.
“Find them!”
“They couldn't have gone far.”
“Check the shed!”
I held my breath.
Noah was trembling.
Daniel whispered,
“They won't find us.”
“How do you know?”
“Because this is where Evan hid me.”
My heart broke.
“You've been hiding here?”
Daniel nodded.
“For months.”
“Who are you?”
He looked at me.
“My name is Daniel Carter.”
“I know.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“That's not my real name.”
I stared.
“What?”
He whispered,
“Evan told me never to say it.”
“Why?”
“Because my real name is…”
He stopped.
Footsteps above us.
Then silence.
I waited.
“Daniel?”
He looked at me.
“My name is Michael.”
I froze.
“Michael what?”
He swallowed.
“Michael Carter.”
My heart stopped.
That name.
I had seen it before.
In the hospital records.
A missing child.
A boy listed as deceased.
Age six.
Date of birth:
September 14, 2017.
The same date as Noah.
I stared at Daniel.
“You're the second baby.”
He nodded.
“I think so.”
My blood ran cold.
Two boys.
Same date.
Same hospital.
Same blood marker.
One raised as Noah.
One hidden as Daniel.
And suddenly, I understood what Subject 18 meant.
It wasn't one child.
It was a designation.
A line of children.
A chain.
A program.
And Noah was only one part of it.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
Evan.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
Diane standing behind him.
And beside her—
Ryan.
His hands were tied.
Under the photograph was a single message:
YOU HAVE THE WRONG CHILD.
Another message appeared.
BRING MICHAEL TO THE HOSPITAL.
Then a third.
OR BOTH BROTHERS DIE.
I stared at the screen.
Noah looked up at me.
“Mom?”
I looked at my son.
Then at Michael.
Two frightened boys.
Two children who had been turned into numbers by adults who believed blood mattered more than life.
I wiped my tears.
“No.”
Michael looked at me.
“What?”
I closed my fist around the phone.
“We're not taking you to them.”
“But Dad…”
“Your dad is going to come home.”
“How?”
I looked toward the dark estate.
“I don't know yet.”
Then I heard a faint sound beneath us.
A knock.
Three times.
Then two.
Michael smiled through his fear.
“Evan.”
I froze.
“You hear that?”
He nodded.
“He's underneath us.”
I moved toward the wall.
Another knock.
Three.
Two.
I pressed my hand against the stone.
“Evan?”
A voice whispered from the darkness.
“Claire.”
I almost cried.
“Where are you?”
“Below.”
“How?”
“Your father's tunnels.”
I looked at Michael.
“How do we get to you?”
“There's a door behind the furnace.”
I turned.
An old furnace stood in the corner.
Michael pushed it aside.
A narrow passage appeared.
I stared into the darkness.
“Evan?”
His voice came again.
“Claire, listen carefully.”
“What?”
“Diane doesn't have Ryan.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She has someone who looks like him.”
My heart stopped.
“Then where is my husband?”
Evan's voice became urgent.
“That's what I'm trying to find out.”
A pause.
Then—
“Because the man who was taken with Diane…”
“He isn't Ryan.”
I looked at Michael.
Then at Noah.
And suddenly, every photograph we'd seen that night made sense.
The man in the hallway.
The older face.
The false Ryan.
The person who had been watching us.
I whispered,
“Then who is he?”
Evan answered:
“My father's first son.”
Silence.
I stared into the tunnel.
“Evan…”
“Yes?”
“Who is your father's first son?”
May you like
His voice came back, barely audible.
“Subject Zero.”
