“And what was your plan?” She raises her eyebrows.
“Break into the lab. I’ve done it before. Find where they’re keeping Baby . . . get her and escape.” As I say it aloud, I realize how ridiculous I sound. I have no real course of action, just a desperate need to make sure Baby is safe. “Kay, I can’t lose her.”
“I know, Amy, but have a little faith.” She holds something out to me. It’s a key card, Level One. “Ken gave this to me. We have to get into Dr. Reynolds’s office and see where he’s holding Baby. This card will give us access to anywhere in the lab. We should be able to sweep in and get her. We’ll stash you both just outside of New Hope, but within range of the emitters. Then we’ll figure out what to do with you from there.”
“What about Marcus?” I shudder slightly, remembering his ferocity and skill in all forms of combat, a result of his military training, as well as the ruthlessness of the Elite Eight—the Guardians loyal to him.
“Gareth is going to keep Marcus occupied, and we have someone on the inside who said Dr. Reynolds will be in psyche-evals all morning.”
“Rice?” I smile.
“No, he’s too close to Dr. Reynolds. We thought it was better not to involve him, so he can have plausible deniability. He’s our plan B.”
I nod, knowing that Rice won’t like being cut out of the loop. But at least now I have my chance. I’m going to get Baby.
Kay has me pull down the hood of my synth-suit and walk next to her, out of the building and across the Quad. I know I won’t pass for any of the male Guardians, the synth-suit is too tight fitting for that, but at a glance I might resemble Jenny, though she’s a little smaller than I am. Hopefully no one is paying close attention, and most of the people we pass don’t even spare us a second glance.
It brings back a strange feeling to walk to the lab where my world was shattered. I’d stolen Rice’s key card and broken in to confront my mother, who admitted her part in the Florae apocalypse, the creation of the bacterium that caused the infection. I shudder as we reach the black door, marking the lab as a restricted area. I glance up and find a newly installed camera staring back at us. I hold my breath, hoping our ploy will work.
Kay swipes the clearance card and the door unlocks. I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. We walk right into the lab building as if we belong there, and take the elevator to the bottom floor, Level B5, where all the research happens.
Kay leads me through the hall. With my hood pulled down, I’m just another Guardian. Marcus’s cronies, the Elite Eight, have been conducting random inspections under Dr. Reynolds’s orders, so no one questions us.
We walk the labyrinth of hallways, through doors to restricted areas, and past an open doorway where a group of researchers is gathered around a table in a conference room. I falter and let out a small gasp.
One of the researchers is my mother.
She looks ragged, her face lined with stress. Kay sees her too and grabs my arm to get me moving again. I can feel my mother’s eyes on me as we hurry away. Can she recognize the shape of my body? My gait? Will she raise the alarm?
When we’ve turned a corner out of sight, Kay murmurs, “Do you think she realized it was you?”
“No.” I shake my head, willing it to be true. “She would’ve said something.”
“We can circle back a different way, hide you again.”
“No. Let’s stick to the plan,” I say.
Dr. Reynolds’s office is near my mother’s. I keep checking behind us, worrying that my mother has followed us, but the hall remains clear. Kay turns the handle and it opens.
A feeling of alarm tickles my senses. It wasn’t locked? We did have to go through multiple security checks, but still . . .
We slip inside the office, and Kay points to a camera mounted in the corner. “Last night I distracted Marcus while Gareth got into the surveillance room. I set a ten-minute loop of the empty office. No one can see us.”
“That’s why the door wasn’t locked: Dr. Reynolds would rather see what people are up to than prevent them from entering altogether.”
Kay nods as I shuffle through the papers on Dr. Reynolds’s desk. There are stacks of manila folders, names written neatly on the tabs at the side. Each folder represents a patient in the Ward. I open one: It details a course of treatment for a woman with “paranoid delusions of conspiracy.” I grimace, seriously doubting that the woman’s paranoia is a delusion.
I put the folder down and riffle through the rest, checking the name on each. No Hannah O’Brian.
Kay places an oversized sheet of paper before me. “Look.” It’s a map of the labs, just what we need. “Ken said Baby was in Florae Research.”
There’s a room at the center marked FR LEVEL ONE CLEARANCE—FPV ONLY. I jab it with my fingertip and look up at Kay. “FR—Florae Research? Has to be. But what is FPV?”
“I don’t know. Ken didn’t say anything about that. We didn’t have much time to talk, though.”
We study the map, trying to memorize the twists and turns that will take us to find Baby. After a moment of intense concentration, I say, “I think I’ve got it. Let’s go.”
Kay nods, placing the map back where she found it, under a pile of books. I make sure all the folders are on Dr. Reynolds’s desk the way they were before I disturbed them and join Kay by the door. Stepping out into the hall, we navigate the lab. We pass a few researchers, but none of them appear to give us a second thought.
At the black door labeled FLORAE RESEARCH, Kay swipes the clearance card. Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge. Kay tries it again. Nothing.
“What’s wrong?”
She touches a clear pad next to the card reader and sighs. “Well, now we know what FPV means. Fingerprint Verification. We need a Clearance One fingerprint to get in.”
“What do we do now?” I ask, starting to panic.
“Well, we can start by not hanging out here, looking sketchy.” She turns and walks down the hall. I run to catch up.
“Do we need Dr. Reynolds’s fingerprint?” My heart sinks. If so, we’ll have to turn back now, before we’ve even begun.
“No . . . just someone with clearance. I think I know who we can ask.” We turn a corner, and Kay stops at a door. Again, I instantly think of Rice, but obviously, Kay purposefully wants to keep him out of this. “Who?”
“The same person who told us that Dr. Reynolds would be busy all day.”
She knocks, and after a moment there is a curt “Come in.” We step through the door into a small office, and I’m relieved to find Dr. Samuels seated behind a cluttered desk. He still wears the same yellow bow tie and tweed jacket, but looks older than I remember. Everyone’s appearance seems to have changed for the worse in the short time I’ve been gone.
Dr. Samuels stares at us, then reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a pistol. I take a surprised step back as Dr. Samuels points it at us.
“You will not be taking me to the Ward,” he says, his face oddly calm. He raises the gun’s barrel to his temple, closes his eyes, and squeezes the trigger.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Nothing happens.
Dr. Samuels looks as shocked as I feel. Kay rips her hood off, and Dr. Samuels stares at her, his look of surprise giving way to one of glazed horror.
“I . . . I thought they’d finally come for me. . . .” He’s wide-eyed, mouth gaping, and turns to the gun in his hand. He sets the weapon on his desk, then yanks his hand away as if he’s been burned.
Kay steps over and plucks the gun off the desk. “Holy crap, when I gave this to you it didn’t occur to me you’d use it for that.” She checks the gun. “Good thing the safety was on.”