Chapter 4 - The Room Without Oxygen
The ladder ended in freezing water.
Daniel dropped the last few feet, landing knee-deep in a narrow maintenance channel. He caught Oliver as the boy descended, then lifted Lucy down.
The tunnel was barely wide enough for them to walk in single file.
Pipes crowded the ceiling.
Every few seconds, three taps echoed through the metal.
Edward was still communicating.
“Can he hear us?” Oliver asked.
“Maybe through the pipes.”
Daniel struck the largest pipe three times.
The answer came immediately.
Three taps.
Oliver’s face brightened.
“He knows we’re coming.”
Daniel wanted to believe that.
They moved through the water.
After twenty yards, the tunnel split in three directions.
The tapping stopped.
Daniel waited.
Nothing.
Lucy closed her eyes.
“He gets tired.”
Oliver struck the pipe.
“Dad?”
Silence.
Daniel examined the walls. The left passage sloped upward. The center continued straight. The right carried a faint current of warmer water.
Medical sublevels required drainage and power conduits. Warmer water likely came from machinery.
He chose the right passage.
Behind them, a distant metal clang echoed.
Someone had entered the tunnel.
“Faster,” Daniel said.
They turned a corner and found a steel grate blocking the way.
Daniel pulled at it.
Locked.
Oliver pointed through the bars.
Beyond the grate, a glass wall revealed a medical room.
Edward sat in the wheelchair on the other side.
His head rested against the cushion.
A clear oxygen mask covered his face.
A red light blinked on the machine beside him.
Oliver rushed to the grate.
“Dad!”
Edward’s eyes opened.
Slowly, painfully, he turned toward them.
Recognition spread across his face.
His right hand lifted a few inches.
Oliver began crying.
Daniel pulled harder at the grate.
“Edward.”
His brother stared at him.
Eight years of anger, guilt, and unanswered questions collapsed into that single look.
Edward touched two fingers to his heart.
Then pointed at Daniel.
It was an old gesture from childhood.
Still my brother.
Daniel gripped the bars.
“I am getting you out.”
A digital display inside the room reached 01:47.
The oxygen machine released a warning beep.
Lucy searched the tunnel wall.
“There.”
A rusted lever was mounted behind one pipe.
Daniel pulled it.
Nothing happened.
Oliver added his weight.
The lever shifted halfway.
The grate remained closed.
Footsteps splashed in the darkness behind them.
Flashlights appeared around the bend.
Daniel pushed the children against the wall.
“Keep pulling.”
He moved toward the lights.
Two armed guards entered the passage.
The first raised a weapon.
Daniel seized the barrel and forced it upward as it fired. The shot shattered a pipe. Steam exploded into the tunnel.
The guard cried out.
Daniel drove him into the wall and took the weapon.
The second guard fired blindly through the steam.
A bullet struck the grate.
Oliver screamed.
Daniel fired once toward the ceiling above the guard. Concrete fragments rained down, forcing the man back.
“Pull the lever.”
Lucy wrapped both hands around it.
The mechanism groaned.
The grate lifted six inches.
Oliver dropped to the water and crawled beneath it.
“Oliver, wait.”
The boy was already through.
He ran into the medical room and threw himself against the glass door. It opened from the tunnel side.
Daniel pushed Lucy inside and followed.
He slammed the door as the second guard emerged through the steam.
Bullets struck the glass.
Cracks spread, but the reinforced panel held.
The timer reached 00:54.
Oliver stood beside Edward.
“Dad, it’s me.”
Edward’s fingers moved against the wheelchair armrest.
He could not speak.
Daniel examined the oxygen machine.
The supply line had been electronically sealed.
A manual cylinder stood beside it.
He twisted the valve.
Locked.
The timer reached 00:39.
Daniel fired the stolen weapon into the locking mechanism.
The cylinder valve broke open.
Oxygen hissed into the mask.
The red warning light turned green.
The timer stopped at 00:31.
Edward closed his eyes.
His chest rose more deeply.
Oliver pressed his forehead against his father’s arm.
“You came back.”
Edward moved his fingers into the boy’s hair.
Daniel turned toward Lucy.
She stood several feet away, uncertain.
Edward saw her.
His face changed.
He extended his hand.
Lucy approached slowly.
When she placed her fingers in his, tears slid from the corners of his eyes.
The glass door shook under another impact.
The guards were trying to break through.
Daniel searched for another exit.
A second door led to a laboratory filled with cabinets and computers. Beyond it was an elevator with no visible controls.
He released the wheelchair brakes.
“Can he be moved?”
Lucy nodded.
“The nurse moves him.”
Daniel pushed Edward toward the laboratory.
Oliver stayed beside him.
Inside, hundreds of blood samples filled refrigerated cases.
Each bore a name and number.
Some names were crossed out.
Others were marked TRANSFERRED.
Daniel saw children’s names among them.
His stomach tightened.
This was more than unlawful imprisonment.
It was an operation.
A computer screen displayed the Blackwood Foundation logo. Vanessa’s charitable organization claimed to fund treatment for orphaned and disabled children.
Daniel opened a file.
Patient acquisition.
Genetic compatibility.
Inheritance status.
Guardian vulnerability.
He scrolled faster.
The foundation had identified wealthy children with deceased or absent parents. It placed approved caregivers near them, manipulated custody arrangements, and redirected trust funds through medical expenses.
Oliver’s name appeared near the top.
So did Lucy’s.
But Lucy’s surname was not the one Vanessa had given authorities.
Lucy Vale.
Relationship to primary subject: half-sibling.
Father: Edward Vale.
Mother: Dr. Helen Cross.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Edward had another child.
Oliver saw the name.
“She really is my sister.”
Edward tightened his grip on Lucy’s hand.
A red notification appeared.
PURGE SEQUENCE INITIATED.
The refrigerators began shutting down.
Files disappeared from the screen.
Daniel inserted a flash drive from the desk and copied everything he could.
The progress bar moved painfully slowly.
12 percent.
The guards broke the first layer of glass.
The crack widened.
28 percent.
Daniel checked the elevator.
A biometric scanner glowed beside it.
He placed Edward’s hand against the surface.
ACCESS DENIED.
He tried Lucy’s hand.
ACCESS DENIED.
Oliver pressed his palm to the scanner.
The light turned green.
The elevator opened.
Daniel stared at the boy.
Why was the system designed for Oliver?
The copy reached 61 percent.
The guards smashed through the glass.
Daniel raised the weapon.
“Get inside.”
Oliver pushed the wheelchair into the elevator while Lucy held the doors.
The first guard entered the laboratory.
Daniel fired at a light above him.
Darkness swallowed the room.
The copy reached 83 percent.
Bullets tore through cabinets.
Glass tubes shattered.
Daniel felt a burning line across his upper arm.
He pulled the flash drive at 91 percent and ran.
The elevator doors began closing.
A guard seized the edge.
Daniel struck his hand with the weapon.
The man released it.
The doors sealed.
The elevator descended.
Daniel leaned against the wall, blood running down his sleeve.
Oliver stared at the wound.
“You’re hurt.”
“It is not deep.”
Edward watched him.
Then his gaze dropped to the flash drive.
Daniel held it up.
“I have part of it.”
Edward shook his head.
He pointed toward Oliver.
Then toward the floor.
“What does he mean?” Lucy asked.
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened onto a circular chamber.
At its center stood a stone pedestal beneath a single light.
The Vale family crest was carved into the floor.
Three wells beneath a tower.
Oliver approached the pedestal.
A small recess in its surface matched the shape of the wooden horse Lucy carried.
She held it tightly.
Edward tapped his fingers urgently.
Lucy understood.
“He wants me to put it there.”
She inserted the horse.
A mechanism clicked.
The pedestal opened.
Inside lay a leather-bound ledger, a sealed envelope, and an old-fashioned tape recorder.
Daniel reached for the ledger.
Edward struck the wheelchair armrest.
Hard.
Daniel stopped.
His brother pointed toward the envelope.
May you like
Across its front, in Edward’s handwriting, were six words.
FOR DANIEL, ONLY AFTER I AM DEAD.
