68 Echoes of a Forgotten Vow: The Surgeon, the Secret Child, and the Blood-Red Dawn

The keypad beside the emergency exit glared with a small, steady red light.

Brenda dropped to one knee, letting go of my hand for a fraction of a second to punch in the sequence Matthew had given her: Nine-zero-four-two.

Her fingers flew across the plastic buttons, but on the first attempt, the keypad flashed a harsh amber error message and emitted a low, angry buzz.

"Come on, come on," she muttered under her breath, her hands trembling so badly she nearly dropped the brass keys.

From somewhere back down the dark corridor behind us, the sound of a heavy metal door being kicked open echoed through the vents. Followed by a sharp, clipped voice barking orders in the dark.

"Sector four is clear! Sweep the lower labs! They went this way!"

Panic surged through me like a jolt of electricity. I looked back down the long, empty corridor, half-expecting dark, tactical-gear-clad figures to round the corner at any second with weapons raised.

"Please work," Brenda sobbed, pressing the buttons a second time with slow, deliberate precision.

Nine. Zero. Four. Two.

BEEP.

The light turned bright, solid green. With a loud, pneumatic click, the heavy locking bolts disengaged, and the steel door swung outward into the cool, damp air of the subterranean loading bay.

A rush of exhaust fumes and rainy city air hit my face. Parked directly beneath the concrete overhang was a white hospital transport van, its engine idling with a low, throbbing rumble. The driver’s side door swung open instantly, and a massive man with a shaved head, broad shoulders, and a scar across his left cheek leaped out.

It was Vance—the head of security Matthew had mentioned earlier.

"Get in! Move, move, move!" Vance shouted, his voice gravelly and urgent as he spotted us bursting through the exit.

Brenda shoved me forward into the open sliding side door of the van, tossing my cardboard box in right behind me. She scrambled in after us, slamming the heavy metal door shut with all her might.

Thud.

Vance didn't wait. He leaped back into the driver’s seat, slammed the transmission into reverse, and the van surged backward out of the bay, tires screeching against the wet concrete just as a pair of armed enforcers burst through the laboratory exit we had left behind, their weapons raised too late.

Through the rear window of the van, I watched the hospital fade away into the grey morning rain. The towering brick structure looked like a giant stone monster swallowing my father whole.

I curled up on the rubber-matted floor of the van, pulling my knees to my chest, staring at Lily and Luna sitting safely inside my cardboard box.

"Where is Mommy?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the roar of the engine as we accelerated down the ramp toward the underground highway tunnel.

Brenda pulled me into her lap, wrapping her arms around me while she stared out the front windshield toward Vance.

"She's in the back of the van, sweetie," Brenda said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "Vance had her transferred down here five minutes before the alarm went off. She's resting on a stretcher, sleeping through it all."

My heart gave a little lurch. I scrambled across the floor, ignoring the soreness in my legs, and pushed open the partition curtain that separated the driver’s cab from the back medical compartment.