Chapter 10 - Footsteps in the Hall
The steady, rubber-soled squeak of shoes marching down the linoleum corridor grew louder with every passing second, cutting straight through the heavy tension of the laboratory. Dr. Vance stopped mid-sentence, his head snapping toward the door. Maya froze by the sink, her hand still resting on the chrome faucet as the water dripped into the basin with measured, deliberate plops.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
The footsteps weren't dragging or hurried; they possessed the steady, unyielding cadence of campus security on a routine midnight sweep. Leo’s heart hammered against his ribs. If a guard decided to test the handle of Dr. Vance’s lab—a door that was currently locked from the inside with a heavy iron key—there would be no excuse about modern art installations or student projects that could cover up a teenager plastered to a dissection table.
"Dad," Maya whispered urgently, taking a quick step toward the desk. "It’s the second-floor patrol. They check the biometric logs every hour on the hour. If they see your key in the deadbolt from the inside, they’ll call campus police dispatch immediately."
Dr. Vance didn't panic. His face remained a mask of cold, calculating composure. He reached down, grabbed the heavy metal chisel and mallet, and shoved them swiftly into the open drawer beneath the counter, pushing it shut with a quiet click. Then, he turned his gaze back to Leo, his eyes narrowing with a sharp, unspoken warning.
"Not a sound," Dr. Vance muttered under his breath, stepping close enough to brush the edge of Leo’s shoulder. "If you make so much as a whimper, Leo, I won't just leave your hands in plaster. I'll make sure the sub-basement registry lists your name right alongside the rest of the missing data points."
The footsteps stopped directly outside the frosted glass panel.
For three agonizing seconds, the entire world outside seemed to hold its breath. The shadow of a tall figure fell across the door, pausing right where the brass handle met the wood. Leo felt a cold bead of sweat roll down the bridge of his nose, stinging his eye, but he didn't dare blink. He stared straight ahead at the stainless steel tray, his wrists burning inside their hardened grey shells.
Then, a metallic jingle rang out in the hallway. The guard was testing the handle.
May you like
Maya bit down hard on her thumb, her eyes welling up with sudden tears of sheer terror as the brass knob rattled loosely in its socket. The deadbolt held firm, refusing to turn from the outside.
---
