Then—
A sound cuts through the chaos.
Weak.
Faint.
“…help…”
I stop instantly.
Lucas turns sharply. “Clay!”
“You hear that?”
Silence.
Then again—
“…please…”
Not a child.
Adult voice.
Somewhere deeper down the surgical wing.
Behind reinforced doors.
Lucas hears it too this time.
His expression hardens immediately.
“Hannah,” I say.
Or Stephen.
Maybe both.
“We don’t have time,” Lucas says tightly.
He’s right.
Compound’s falling apart around us.
Enemy reinforcements still moving.
Kids depending on us.
Every second matters.
I look down at the little girl clinging to my shoulder.
Then toward the locked hallway.
“Make time.”
Lucas exhales hard through his nose.
