Chapter 11 - Chapter 11: Room Four

The Rivergate sign was still there, but the lights were new. Two flood towers painted the parking lot white, and the wet asphalt shined like oil. Noah kept the stolen SUV slow because the gate ahead was not a simple fence. It was a steel arm, a second steel arm, and a lane made from concrete blocks that forced the car to crawl.Mara sat tight in the passenger seat with her gun low, not up. She did not trust the quiet. Owen lay across the back seat with his head turned to the side, breathing fast like he was trying to outrun his own fever.A speaker on a pole crackled. "Vehicle halt." The voice was calm. Too calm. "Driver, hands visible. Daniel Cross, you will comply."Noah's jaw locked, but he did not look away. He raised his hands on the wheel because the cameras above the lane were already tracking him. He could feel it, like a finger pressed to his forehead.The gate arm lifted with a clean, smooth motor sound. A second gate stayed down. A red line of light swept the SUV, slow and steady, like a blade."Step out," the speaker said. "Weapons on the hood. Subject 13 remains inside the vehicle until instructed."Mara's eyes cut to Noah. She wanted to argue. She wanted to fight. But Owen coughed behind them, wet and deep, and the sound made the choice heavy.Noah opened the door. Cold air hit his face, sharp with disinfectant and rain. He set his pistol on the hood first, then the shotgun they had taken, then the spare magazine. He kept the small blade in his boot and did not change his breathing.A side door in the concrete wall slid open. Three people came out in gray coats and clear face shields. Two held rifles. The third pushed an empty wheelchair like it was already planned.They did not rush him. They did not need to."Hands out," one guard said. His voice came through a mask, flat and bored. "Turn. Slow."Noah turned. He felt the cold wand tap his ribs, his belt, his pockets. It paused near his boot, then moved on. Either the guard missed the blade, or he decided to let it pass.Mara stepped out next, her shoulders tense. She set her gun down hard, like she wanted the sound to insult them. A guard took it and did not even look at her."Name," the guard said anyway."Noah Carter," she answered.The guard's head tilted a little, like he heard a joke. "We know."That was when the second gate arm lifted. The lane opened into the clinic driveway, and the doors of Rivergate stood wide, bright inside like a mouth.They rolled Owen out with care that looked fake. The wheelchair came close, but the gray-coated worker did not touch Owen's head. He wrapped hands around Owen's shoulders and waist instead, like the skull mattered more than the person.Noah stepped forward. A rifle moved, barrel tracking his chest."Easy," Mara said. She kept her voice low, but it had steel in it.Noah held up one hand. "I push," he said. "Or he stays in the car."The worker looked up at a camera in the ceiling of the lane, waiting for permission like a dog. A second later, he stepped aside.Noah slid his arms under Owen and lifted. Owen was too light. His skin was hot, but his lips were cold."Stay with me," Mara said to Owen. Her fingers pressed his wrist, feeling for a pulse like she could pull him back by force.They moved as a group toward the open doors, and the moment they crossed the threshold, a metal door slid shut behind them with a final click. Noah turned his head fast. The way out was gone.The hall smelled of bleach, old blood, and wet plastic. Bright strips of light ran along the ceiling. On the wall, someone had painted a clean message in black letters: INTAKE — HEAD INTACT.Noah's eyes followed the words to a cart near the door. Bone saw. Heavy clamp. Thick black bags. A bucket with a drain hose. It was not a normal clinic cart. It was a butcher cart dressed in white.A speaker above them clicked. "Daniel Cross," the voice said again, closer now, like it was right behind the glass. "Bring Subject 13 to Bay Two. Do not damage his head."Mara's face tightened. "They're talking about him like he's a box."Noah did not answer. He watched the cameras instead. Four in this short hall. One in every corner.They reached a windowed room. A man stood behind the glass, hands clasped behind his back. He wore a doctor's coat, but the coat was too clean for this world. His hair was neat. His eyes were awake.Dr. Harrow smiled like he owned the air. "Welcome back," he said into the mic. "You're harder to kill than I hoped."Noah stepped closer to the glass. "You sent a drone to say my name in the street.""Yes." Harrow's smile did not fade. "It saves time. You've been running for a long time, Daniel."Mara leaned in, eyes sharp. "What is Subject 13?"Harrow turned his gaze to Owen like Owen was a chart on a wall. "A rare case. A useful case. I want him intact."Noah's hand tightened on the wheelchair handle. "You don't get him for free."Harrow lifted a finger, as if teaching a class, but his tone stayed simple. "You don't get to bargain. You get to choose how much pain you cause before you lose."A new door at the end of the hall slid open. A guard came out with a tablet and a plastic bin. "Hands," he said. "Anything sharp. Anything metal."Noah did not move. Mara shifted her weight, ready to swing.Harrow spoke again, soft. "If you fight here, the cameras record it. Then you die tired."Noah stared at the tablet in the guard's hands. On the screen was a photo of him. Not "Noah." Daniel Cross. Same face. Same eyes. Under it, a line of text: ROUTE B — CROSS / SUBJECT 13 — INTAKE PRIORITY.Below that was another file. Owen Holloway. A red stamp: HEAD INTACT.Noah saw a third note, smaller, almost hidden. "Bay Two: scalp check."He looked down at Owen's head. Owen's hair was matted with sweat and dirt. Noah brushed it back with his fingers, fast and careful.There was a line under the hair, thin and pale, right above the ear. Stitches, old and healed.Mara sucked in a breath. "He's been cut before."Owen's eyes fluttered. His voice was a dry scrape. "I… didn't know…"Harrow watched them react. His smile sharpened. "That scar is why he matters. Now bring him."Noah's stomach turned cold. Owen was not just a target. Owen was a product.A loud click came from the side corridor. A heavy door unlocked. A metal latch snapped open.Noah heard the sound first. Nails on tile. Slow at first. Then faster.A figure stumbled out of the dark hall in a white restraint harness, hands chained to a waist belt. Its jaw hung crooked. Its eyes were milky. A zombie, alive and angry, but this one had thick plates of bone across the forehead like a helmet grown under the skin.It saw them and snapped hard against the harness, dragging the chain along the floor with a scream that cut through the clean hallway.Harrow's voice came smooth. "A simple test. If you want to keep Subject 13 near you, Daniel, show me you can still work."The guards raised rifles, but they did not fire. They waited.Noah felt his pulse jump. This was not a rescue center. This was a stage. The fight was part of the intake.The zombie lunged. Its head slammed the floor once, then it pushed up with strength that felt wrong for something dead. It ran straight at the wheelchair.Mara moved first. She stepped in and swung the wheelchair to the side, trying to save Owen from the impact. The zombie's hands scraped the chair frame anyway, and the sound was metal on metal, loud enough to wake the whole building.Noah hit the zombie with his shoulder, driving it into the wall. It snapped at his neck and missed by inches. Its teeth clacked close enough that Noah felt air.He reached for the guard's dropped sidearm on the floor near the bin. He fired once, point blank, into the zombie's head.The shot punched skin and bone, but the zombie did not drop. It staggered, then came right back, faster now, like pain was fuel.Old headshots don't work, Noah thought, and the thought was not fear. It was a fact.He grabbed the chain, wrapped it around his fist, and yanked. The zombie's head jerked down. Noah drove his knee into its jaw with all his weight. The jaw broke with a wet crack.The zombie still moved. It tried to climb him anyway.Noah shoved his fingers into its eye socket and jammed hard until the skull gave. The body went limp in a sudden drop that almost threw him.The guards finally stepped forward, rifles tense, watching him like he was the monster now.Noah didn't wait. He dropped to one knee and smashed the zombie's head against the tile, twice, until the bone split open. Thick black blood spread under his hand.He dug inside fast and found it. A crystal, dark and slick, pulsing faintly like it was warm.The moment it hit his palm, he felt the pull. The urge. The hunger that did not feel like his."Don't," Mara hissed, seeing it. "Not here."But the hallway cameras were already staring, and Harrow was already smiling behind glass. If Noah kept it, they would take it. If he hid it, they would search him. If he refused it, he stayed weaker in a cage built for him.Noah clenched his teeth and raised the crystal to his mouth.He swallowed it.Pain shot through his throat like he had eaten glass. His hands shook so hard the chain rattled. Heat flooded his skull, then ice, then heat again.A flash hit him, sharp as a knife. A room with the same white lights. A chair. Straps on his wrists. Harrow's voice counting, calm and steady."Again," the voice said in the memory. "One more time."Noah blinked hard. The hall snapped back into place. His nose was bleeding. He tasted metal.For one second, his eyes locked on the nearest guard's throat, and his body wanted to move. It wanted to bite. It wanted to take.Mara's hand grabbed his sleeve. The pressure was real. Human. It stopped him.Noah forced his breathing slow. "I'm fine," he lied.Harrow's voice purred through the speaker. "Good. You still remember how to earn your space."A new figure stepped out from a side door, and Noah's stomach dropped.Riley Knox wore a nurse jacket over her street clothes. She had a radio on her shoulder and a pistol under the hem like a secret that wasn't secret. Her hair was tied back, neat for once.She looked at the dead zombie, then at the blood on Noah's hands. "You always make a mess," she said.Mara's eyes went sharp. "You work here now?"Riley shrugged. "I work wherever I don't get eaten." Her gaze slid to Owen's scar. "And wherever the price is high."Noah's voice stayed flat. "Did Elena send you?"Riley's mouth twitched. "Elena doesn't send me. Elena watches. She's better at that." She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Harrow wants you alone. He wants the boy in Bay Two. If you fight it, the doors open and the dead come in. He can do it from that glass box."As if on cue, a distant siren chirped once, and another locked door clicked open somewhere deeper in the building. The sound of angry pounding followed, like bodies hitting glass.Harrow's voice returned. "Escort them, Riley. Bay Two, now."Riley lifted her hands. "You heard the doctor. Move."Noah pushed the wheelchair forward. His legs felt lighter, faster, but his hands were not steady. The crystal had given him something, and it had taken something too.They rolled past a row of sealed rooms with glass walls. Inside, shadows twitched. Faces pressed against the glass. Some heads were smooth. Some had thick plates like the one Noah just killed.One zombie stared at Noah and tracked him, turning slow, like it knew his scent.Mara swallowed hard. "They're keeping them."Riley kept walking. "They're keeping what keeps you alive."At the end of the hall, a steel door waited with a keypad. Above it, a sign: SURGERY WING — AUTHORIZED ONLY.Riley typed in a code. The door opened with a hiss.The moment they crossed the threshold, the door behind them slammed shut. Locks thudded into place. The air changed, colder and drier, like the building was holding its breath.A speaker in the ceiling clicked. Harrow sounded pleased. "Daniel Cross, proceed to Room Four. Mara Vance, wait in the corridor. Subject 13 goes into Bay Two now."Noah stopped the wheelchair. "No."Harrow's tone stayed patient. "Then I open the west gate. I let every dead thing in the lot come inside. You will have no walls. No choices. Just teeth."A monitor on the wall turned on. It showed the outside lot from above. The west gate motors were already powering up, lights blinking yellow.Mara leaned close to Noah, voice tight. "If that gate opens, we can't carry Owen and fight."Noah stared at Owen's face. Owen's eyes were half-open, lost. He looked like a kid who had been dragged too far.Riley took one step back, giving herself space, like she was already planning which side to stand on.The Bay Two door slid open by itself, slow and inviting, like a trap that wanted to look kind.Harrow's voice whispered into the hall. "Push him in. Or drown in the dead."Noah's hands stayed on the wheelchair grips, and his mind raced through angles, doors, cameras, and the blade in his boot.He had one breath to choose.