Chet’s World
The camera followed Chet as he moved down the hallway. He paused at a metal door, pressing his palm to a scanner. The door clicked open, revealing a room lit by harsh fluorescent lights.
Inside were:
- a metal cot bolted to the floor
- a small sink with no mirror
- a tray of medical supplies arranged with clinical precision
- a wall of cabinets with coded locks, each labeled with numbers instead of names
Chet stepped inside, shoulders tight, posture small — the posture of someone who had learned to take up as little space as possible.
Aiyanna and Lily sat close together on the floor, knees touching. Despite not being intended for the tactical discussion, they wouldn't leave. They were the only ones who had seen Chet in the days before the breach. They were the only ones who could interpret the things adults didn’t understand — the silences, the flinches, the coded behaviors of someone surviving captivity.
Aiyanna whispered, “He doesn’t like it there.”
Lily nodded, fierce and small. “They made him quiet.”
Marianne swallowed. “He’s not a prisoner… but he’s not free either.”
Elijah’s voice was low. “He’s surviving.”
But Leah saw something else — something colder.
“He’s conditioned,” she murmured. “This room isn’t a cell. It’s a station. A place where they do things to him and expect him to comply.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened.
###
The Voice They Didn’t Want to Hear
A second figure entered the frame — tall, thin, wearing a lab coat that didn’t match the industrial setting. His posture was too relaxed, too confident, as if the underground bunker belonged to him.
The doctor's clipped, precise voice revealed his unmistakable Canadian vowels.
“Good Thunder,” he said. “You’re late.”
Leah froze. “That’s Hale.”
Marianne’s stomach dropped. “Marcus Hale.”
Eliza frowned. “The botanist?”
Leah shook her head. “He was never a botanist. His postdoc was in nutritional genomics. He ran controlled food‑trial studies on twins — identical twins. He called it ‘nutritional divergence.’ The ethics board called it something else.”
Elijah’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
Leah’s voice was tight. “Human experimentation. They shut him down in 2014. Quietly. No charges. Just… reassigned.”
Marianne whispered, “To Fourteen?”
Leah nodded. “To Fourteen.”
Chet didn’t look up. He kept his eyes on the tray, hands steadying themselves against the metal.
Hale continued, “We have a schedule. You know what happens when the schedule slips.”
Chet’s left hand twitched again.
Elijah’s fists tightened at his sides.
Aiyanna flinched. Lily leaned into her, protective.
###
The Depth Revealed
Leah zoomed out the feed, pulling metadata from the signal. A schematic flickered onto the screen — not a blueprint, but a rough digital overlay. A vertical line. Segments. Numbers.
Marianne leaned in. “What is that?”
Leah’s voice shook. “Camera depth markers. Internal system indexing.”
Eliza’s breath caught. “How many levels?”
Leah highlighted the segments.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven.
Evan whispered, “Holy hell.”
Marianne stared at the screen. “Seven levels. They built seven levels under a coulee.”
Elijah didn’t look away from Chet. “They buried him,” he hissed. “They buried him alive.”
Leah added, “And Hale is the one holding the shovel.”
###
The Girls React
Aiyanna crawled closer to the screen, her braid swinging over her shoulder. She pressed her palm against the glass.
“He helped us,” she whispered. “He hid us.”
Lily nodded, fierce and small. “He took the hurt so we could run.”
Marianne knelt beside them. “We will help him back. I promise.”
Aiyanna’s voice trembled. “He’s scared. But he’s still good.”
Elijah’s throat tightened. He remembered the boy with the paintbrush. The boy who apologized for breathing too loudly. The boy who never asked for help but always gave it.
He remembered the boy he had failed to check on.
###
Elijah’s Shift
Hale stepped closer to Chet on the feed. “You’ll report to Level Five after this,” Hale said. “They’re waiting.”
Chet nodded once, silent.
Elijah stepped forward, voice steady and cold. “Level Five,” he said. “That’s where we start.”
Marianne turned to him. “Elijah—”
“No,” he said. “I’m done watching.”
Leah looked up. "The layout is unknown to us. We don’t know the access points. We don’t know how many people are down there.”
Elijah’s eyes stayed on Chet. “I know enough.”
Evan crossed his arms. “You’re talking extraction.”
Elijah nodded. “I’m talking rescue.”
Marianne exhaled. “Elijah… this is a fortress.”
Elijah’s voice didn’t waver. “I’m a Marine. He’s one of ours. I’m not leaving him behind.”
Leah whispered, “Hale won’t let him go.”
Elijah’s jaw set. “Then Hale becomes the problem.”