CHAPTER 11 — SUBJECT ZERO
For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.
The words echoed through the tunnel.
Subject Zero.
I looked at Michael.
Then Noah.
Then the darkness beyond the furnace.
“Evan,” I whispered, “what does Subject Zero mean?”
His answer came faintly through the wall.
“It means the first child.”
“Your father's first child?”
“Yes.”
“Then why have we never heard of him?”
“Because Thomas erased him.”
I stared at the tunnel.
“Why?”
A long silence.
Then Evan said,
“Because he wasn't supposed to survive.”
Michael stepped closer.
“Is he coming?”
I looked down at him.
“Who?”
“Subject Zero.”
Evan answered before I could.
“He's already there.”
A cold shiver ran through me.
“Where?”
“Inside the estate.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
The voices above had disappeared.
That frightened me more than the shouting.
“What happened to Ryan?”
“I don't know.”
“You said the man with Diane wasn't him.”
“Correct.”
“Then where is my husband?”
“I don't know.”
“Evan, you have to find him.”
“I am trying.”
“No.”
I stepped into the tunnel.
“You're going to find him.”
My voice shook.
“I don't care what happened between you and Ryan. He's Noah's father in every way that matters. He's my husband. And after everything we've been through tonight, I'm not leaving him behind.”
Evan was silent.
Then he said softly,
“That's exactly what I was hoping you'd say.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“You're finally thinking like a Carter.”
I almost laughed.
“I don't want to think like a Carter.”
“Neither did I.”
He paused.
“But sometimes the only way to survive a family like ours is to understand how it thinks.”
Michael pulled my sleeve.
“Mom.”
I looked at him.
He was staring into the darkness.
“Someone's coming.”
I listened.
Nothing.
Then—
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming from the tunnel behind us.
I pulled Noah toward me.
Michael stepped backward.
“Evan?”
No answer.
The footsteps continued.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then stopped.
A man's voice came from the darkness.
“Claire.”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
Ryan.
“Ryan?”
Noah immediately cried,
“Dad!”
I stepped forward.
“Ryan, is that you?”
“Don't come closer.”
I stopped.
“Why?”
“Because I can't see you.”
“What happened?”
“I'm locked in.”
“Where?”
“Behind a steel door.”
I looked around.
“Where?”
“Below the west wing.”
Evan's voice came through the wall.
“That's impossible.”
Ryan answered,
“Evan?”
“Yes.”
“You're alive.”
“Apparently.”
A bitter laugh.
“Good.”
I stepped forward.
“Ryan, who took you?”
Silence.
Then he whispered,
“I did.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“I followed them.”
“Who?”
“The men.”
“Why?”
“Because they took someone.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
My blood ran cold.
“Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“He was with Diane.”
“No.”
Ryan's voice trembled.
“That wasn't my father.”
Evan suddenly went silent.
I looked toward the tunnel.
“Evan?”
Nothing.
“Evan!”
Finally, his voice came.
“Claire, get the boys out.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
“No.”
“Claire—”
“No.”
I tightened my grip on Noah.
“You know something.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I know who the man pretending to be Thomas is.”
“Who?”
Evan didn't answer.
Then Ryan did.
“Subject Zero.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“So the man in the estate wasn't Thomas?”
“No.”
“Then who was he?”
Ryan whispered,
“My father's first son.”
Michael began shaking.
“Is he going to hurt us?”
I crouched beside him.
“No.”
But I didn't know if I believed my own words.
Ryan continued.
“His name is Alexander.”
Evan said nothing.
“Evan?”
Still nothing.
Ryan's voice grew softer.
“Evan knows him.”
I looked toward the wall.
“Is that true?”
Evan finally answered.
“Yes.”
“Who is Alexander?”
“My brother.”
I stared.
“You have another brother?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought he was dead.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“You all thought he was dead.”
“What happened?”
Evan took a breath.
“He was born before my father married Diane.”
I frowned.
“So?”
“His mother died during childbirth.”
“What did your father do?”
“He blamed Alexander.”
“For her death?”
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It didn't have to.”
Evan's voice became colder.
“My father believed Alexander had inherited a genetic disorder.”
“The same marker?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“The opposite.”
I waited.
“He didn't carry the marker.”
“He was normal?”
“No.”
Evan hesitated.
“He carried something else.”
“What?”
“A mutation.”
My stomach turned.
“What kind?”
“One that made him extremely resistant to pain.”
I stared.
“Pain?”
“Yes.”
“He doesn't feel pain?”
“Not normally.”
A memory flashed through my mind.
The man in the hallway.
The calm expression.
The way he had stood through chaos without flinching.
I whispered,
“That's why.”
Evan continued.
“My father became obsessed with him.”
“Because of the mutation.”
“Yes.”
“He experimented on his own son.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“And when Alexander became violent?”
“He wasn't born violent.”
Evan's voice broke.
“My father made him that way.”
Silence.
I looked at Michael.
“Then why is he after Noah?”
“Because Noah has what Alexander never had.”
“The marker.”
“Yes.”
“And Ryan?”
“He needs Ryan too.”
“Why?”
“Because Ryan has both.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Ryan carries the marker from our father's side.”
“And?”
“He also carries a dormant mutation from Alexander's side.”
I stared.
“That would mean…”
“Ryan is the genetic bridge.”
I felt sick.
“And Noah?”
Evan answered.
“Your son inherited the combination.”
Michael looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
I pulled him closer.
“It means none of this is your fault.”
He nodded.
“But why did they call me Subject 18?”
“Because you were the eighteenth child tested.”
I looked at him.
“And Noah?”
“Subject 17.”
I swallowed.
“So Michael is 18.”
“Yes.”
“Then why does Diane want him?”
“Because he failed the first tests.”
I frowned.
“Failed?”
“He wasn't compatible.”
“With what?”
“The treatment.”
“What treatment?”
Evan's voice dropped.
“The one designed to save Ryan.”
I stared.
Suddenly everything made sense.
They weren't only interested in Noah.
They wanted Ryan alive.
They needed Noah's blood.
And Michael—
Michael was the failed version.
A child they had hidden because he didn't produce the result they wanted.
I looked at him.
“How long have you been hiding?”
Michael shrugged.
“Since I was little.”
“Who took care of you?”
“Evan.”
I looked toward the tunnel.
“You protected him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was innocent.”
Michael whispered,
“Evan was the only one who was kind.”
I felt tears fill my eyes.
Then a metallic bang shook the tunnel.
Ryan shouted,
“Claire!”
I jumped.
“What?”
“Get out!”
“Where?”
“East tunnel.”
“Why?”
“Alexander found the west passage.”
I grabbed Noah and Michael.
“Which way?”
Evan answered.
“Left.”
We ran.
The tunnel narrowed.
Noah stumbled.
I caught him.
“Keep moving.”
Behind us came a heavy metallic crash.
Someone was following.
Michael grabbed my hand.
“Faster.”
We reached a steel door.
Locked.
I tried the handle.
Nothing.
“Evan!”
“Look above the frame.”
I did.
A keypad.
Four numbers.
“What code?”
“17.”
I entered 1-7.
Nothing.
“It's four digits.”
“2017.”
I entered it.
The door opened.
We rushed inside.
It was an old storage room.
I shut the door.
We waited.
Footsteps passed outside.
Then stopped.
Someone stood on the other side.
Noah covered his mouth.
Michael pressed against the wall.
I held both boys.
A man's voice came through the door.
“Claire.”
I knew it wasn't Ryan.
It was calm.
Too calm.
“Open the door.”
I said nothing.
“You don't want to make this difficult.”
Still nothing.
“I know you're inside.”
Noah began trembling.
The voice softened.
“I won't hurt the children.”
I whispered,
“Who are you?”
“Alexander.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where is Ryan?”
“Alive.”
“Let me hear him.”
Silence.
Then Ryan's voice.
“Claire, don't open it.”
I nearly cried.
“Ryan!”
“I'm okay.”
“Where are you?”
“Don't worry about me.”
Alexander laughed.
“Your husband is very brave.”
I said nothing.
“Your son is special.”
I tightened my arms around Noah.
“Stay away from him.”
“You misunderstand.”
“No.”
“You think I want his blood.”
“Don't you?”
“I want freedom.”
I froze.
“What?”
Alexander's voice became bitter.
“Your son is the only thing keeping me alive.”
“How?”
“My father created the treatment.”
“The treatment for Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“Then why Noah?”
“Because the treatment requires the genetic marker.”
“Then take my blood.”
“I don't need yours.”
“Why?”
“Because you're not a carrier.”
I felt a chill.
“But Noah is.”
“Yes.”
“And Ryan?”
“He's dying.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Alexander continued.
“Your husband has been sick for years.”
I looked at the door.
“That's a lie.”
“Ask him.”
I turned toward the boys.
“Ryan?”
Silence.
“Ryan!”
His voice came weakly.
“I didn't want you to know.”
My heart broke.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
“Two years?”
“I thought I could manage it.”
“You were sick.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
“You lied again.”
“I was afraid.”
I wiped my tears.
“Of me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Of what would happen if they knew.”
Alexander answered.
“They knew.”
Ryan whispered,
“They always knew.”
I felt rage rise.
“So all of this…”
“Yes.”
“Was because of your illness?”
“Partly.”
I looked at the door.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't want you watching me die.”
My chest tightened.
“You idiot.”
“I know.”
“You should have trusted me.”
“I know.”
“You should have trusted me with the truth.”
“I know.”
I looked at Noah.
“He's our son.”
“Yes.”
“And we protect him.”
“Yes.”
“Together.”
Ryan's voice broke.
“Yes.”
Alexander spoke again.
“Beautiful.”
I glared at the door.
“What?”
“You finally understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That your family isn't fighting me.”
He paused.
“They're fighting each other.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“The program is bigger than Diane.”
“How big?”
“Big enough to bury people.”
“Who?”
“Doctors.”
“Lawyers.”
“Politicians.”
“Families.”
I felt sick.
“You're saying Diane isn't in charge.”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
Alexander was silent.
Then he said,
“Your mother.”
My blood froze.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She signed the first agreement.”
“I already heard that.”
“You heard Diane's version.”
“Then give me yours.”
Alexander laughed quietly.
“Your mother didn't sign an agreement to monitor Noah.”
“What did she sign?”
“A contract.”
“For what?”
“To sell the child.”
My stomach turned.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“She would never.”
“She already did.”
I couldn't breathe.
“How much?”
Alexander didn't answer.
“How much did she sell my son for?”
“Five million dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
No.
My mother.
The woman who had held Noah in the hospital.
The woman who had cried when he was born.
The woman who had told me I was lucky.
Five million dollars.
I felt something inside me die.
Then Michael whispered,
“That's not the real reason.”
I looked down.
“What?”
He looked terrified.
“Evan told me.”
“Told you what?”
“Your mother didn't sell Noah.”
I frowned.
“Then what?”
Michael swallowed.
“She sold herself.”
The words made no sense.
“What?”
“She wanted to save someone.”
“Who?”
Michael looked toward the door.
“Ryan.”
I froze.
Alexander laughed.
“That is the part they never told you.”
I looked at Ryan.
“Is that true?”
Silence.
“Ryan.”
His voice was barely audible.
“Yes.”
I felt the room spin.
“My mother made the deal to save you?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She offered the program access to you.”
“What does that mean?”
“She gave them my medical records.”
I stared.
“And then?”
“They found Noah.”
“And Diane?”
“She took control.”
I closed my eyes.
Everything was tangled.
My mother.
Ryan.
Diane.
Thomas.
Evan.
Alexander.
Noah.
Michael.
Twenty-three children.
One terrible secret.
Then Alexander spoke again.
“Claire.”
I looked toward the door.
“What?”
“I can get you to Ryan.”
“How?”
“Open the door.”
“No.”
“I don't want to hurt you.”
“I don't trust you.”
“You shouldn't.”
At least he was honest.
“I want something.”
“What?”
“Your son.”
“No.”
“Then your husband dies.”
I felt my heart stop.
Ryan shouted,
“Don't give him Noah!”
I screamed,
“Then tell me what to do!”
Silence.
Then Evan's voice came through another wall.
“Claire.”
I turned.
“Evan?”
“There is another way.”
“What?”
“There's a control room beneath the chapel.”
“What chapel?”
“The old chapel on the east side of the estate.”
“How do we get there?”
“Behind the library.”
“Why?”
“Because the entire program is controlled from there.”
I looked at the door.
Alexander was silent.
I suddenly understood.
He didn't want us to reach the control room.
I whispered,
“Alexander.”
“Yes?”
“Why don't you want me to go there?”
No answer.
“What's in the control room?”
Still nothing.
Then I heard his breathing change.
“You don't want to know.”
“I do.”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“You will find out who Subject Zero really is.”
I froze.
“You said your name was Alexander.”
“It is.”
“Then why did you say Subject Zero?”
A long silence.
Then—
“Because Alexander died twenty-six years ago.”
My blood turned cold.
I stared at the door.
“Then who are you?”
The man outside whispered,
“Your husband's father.”
I couldn't breathe.
Thomas.
Alive.
Again.
But this time, not as a disguise.
As Subject Zero.
The original child.
The first experiment.
The first survivor.
The man who had created the entire nightmare.
I looked at Ryan.
He was silent.
Then Thomas's voice came from outside.
“Now you understand why I could never let Noah leave.”
I pulled Noah closer.
“No.”
Thomas's voice became softer.
“Because he is the only child who can save my son.”
I froze.
“Which son?”
Silence.
Then Ryan screamed from somewhere in the darkness.
“CLAIRE, RUN!”
A gunshot exploded.
Noah screamed.
The door shook violently.
Michael grabbed my hand.
I pulled both boys toward the rear wall.
There had to be another exit.
There had to be.
I searched frantically.
Nothing.
Then I saw it.
A small red button beneath an old electrical panel.
I pressed it.
The wall opened.
A narrow passage appeared.
I grabbed the boys.
“Go!”
We ran.
Behind us, the storage-room door burst open.
Thomas shouted,
“STOP!”
I didn't turn.
We ran through the passage until we reached another staircase.
At the top was the old chapel.
Moonlight streamed through broken stained-glass windows.
I pulled Noah and Michael inside.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then I saw something on the altar.
A file.
Waiting for me.
My name was written on the cover.
CLAIRE CARTER.
I opened it.
The first page contained my birth certificate.
The second contained my medical records.
The third contained photographs of me as a child.
Then I saw a photograph that made my knees buckle.
It showed my mother.
Standing beside Thomas.
And between them—
a newborn baby.
On the baby's blanket was a silver pendant.
Number 17.
I turned the page.
A handwritten sentence appeared:
THE MOTHER WAS SELECTED FIRST.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Michael stood beside me.
“Evan said you would ask.”
I looked at him.
“What else did Evan tell you?”
Michael's face went pale.
“He said if you ever found this file…”
He hesitated.
“You must never believe the woman who calls herself your mother.”
My heart stopped.
Behind us, the chapel doors slowly opened.
I turned.
A woman stood there.
Older.
Elegant.
Terrified.
My mother.
She looked directly at me.
Then at Noah.
And whispered,
“Oh God.”
I stepped forward.
“You.”
She began crying.
“Claire…”
“Did you sell my son?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the program?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Noah was being watched?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Ryan was sick?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Diane was hurting my son?”
Her face collapsed.
“Yes.”
I felt something inside me break.
“Then why?”
She looked at Noah.
“Because I was trying to save you.”
“From what?”
She swallowed.
“From the man who started all of this.”
I stared at her.
“Thomas?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She looked toward the chapel doors.
And whispered,
“Your father.”
I froze.
“My father?”
My mother nodded.
“He isn't dead.”
May you like
The room went silent.
“He's Subject Zero.”
