Chapter 9 - The Empty House
The harsh, mechanical squawk of the police scanner radio clipped to Dr. Aris Thorne’s belt cut sharply through the quiet woods. A dispatcher’s synthesized voice read out a priority code that made Clara’s blood run cold.
"All units, be advised, suspect vehicle registered to Clara Miller has been flagged at her residential address on Maple Street. Local law enforcement assisting federal containment detail. Proceed with extreme caution."
Clara scrambled to her feet, the cold mud squelching around her boots. "That's my house. My cat is inside. My life, everything I own is there!" she cried out, panic overriding her exhaustion.
"Clara, stop! It's a trap," Thorne warned, grabbing her arm as she turned to sprint back toward the dirt road. "Bio-Genics knows you escaped the clinic. They aren't going to wait for you to come to them; they're occupying your home right now to harvest the genetic samples from your personal belongings."
"I don't care! I can't just run forever!" Clara screamed, jerking her arm away with a surprising surge of strength. The synthetic nano-organisms pulsing beneath her skin seemed to feed on her fury, sending a fresh wave of adrenaline through her veins that momentarily erased the physical pain.
Without waiting for the doctor, Clara scrambled up the steep embankment of the creek and broke through the dense brush toward the hidden dirt road where her sedan was still parked near the edge of the woods. Thorne cursed under his breath and hurried after her, realizing he couldn't let her walk into a military-grade ambush alone.
Ten minutes later, driving with her headlights off to avoid detection, Clara crept her sedan down the quiet, tree-lined residential street of Maple Street. As they approached her modest single-story suburban home, the horrific reality of Thorne’s warning became undeniably clear. Two unmarked black SUVs were parked haphazardly across her front lawn, their hazard lights flashing in ominous sync. Men in heavy tactical gear and unmarked hazmat suits were carrying heavy metallic equipment crates in and out of her front door.
Clara slammed on her brakes, the tires crunching loudly on the asphalt. She stared through the windshield at her home, tears streaming down her face as she saw a masked operative carry out her beloved calico cat in a mesh carrier.
"They're taking everything," Clara whispered, her voice breaking entirely.
May you like
"Clara, listen to me," Thorne said urgently, leaning across the center console. "We can't fight an entire corporate army. But there is one person left who can help us—someone inside Bio-Genics who smuggled the original antidote formula out before I was locked out."
---
