Page 95 of Artifice

Olive turned her head too quickly, sending pain lancing through her neck.

Through watering eyes, she made out Tevin sitting against the opposite wall. His face was a mess—left eye swollen shut, split lip crusted with dried blood, and a nasty gash across his forehead.

“Tevin,” she croaked, her throat raw. “What happened?”

“Got careless.” He attempted a smile that turned into a grimace. “Was checking property records at the county officewhen someone put a gun to my back. Been down here since then.”

Olive tested her restraints. Tight, but they didn’t cut off circulation. Still, getting out of them would be a challenge.

She took a moment to soak up her surroundings. “Where are we?”

“In the tunnels under Lighthouse Harbor. Near the warehouse, I think.” Tevin nodded toward a huddled shape in the corner—a man Olive hadn’t noticed.

Olive squinted. The figure was gaunt and his clothes filthy, but he was somehow familiar.

She sucked in a breath. Was that . . . Mr. Thorne?

“Is he alive?” she whispered.

“Barely. Whatever they’ve been testing, he’s gotten massive doses.”

Olive’s mind raced through the implications. “I found Colin’s phone?—”

“They took it,” Tevin said grimly. “Some lady handed it over. I heard them talking when they dragged you in. She made some deal for her brother’s release. Seemed frantic—and upset by everything.”

Stephanie. That had to be Stephanie.

“Her brother?” Olive’s groggy mind couldn’t comprehend who that might be.

“Ethan. He’s a student here. They leveraged him to turn her into their lookout in town. That’s what it sounded like, at least.” Tevin shifted, wincing at what was likely a broken rib. “What was on that phone?”

Olive closed her eyes briefly. “I didn’t have a chance to check it. But, according to Abe, there should be videos of the experiments being done here, as well as financial records. Colin documented it all—the supplements they’re forcing on students, the pharmaceutical trials. Everything.”

“Not . . . all . . . is lost.”

Mr. Thorne’s raspy voice startled them both.

The man had raised his head slightly, eyes fever-bright in the dim light. “There’s . . . backup.”

Olive and Tevin exchanged glances.

“What backup, Mr. Thorne?” Olive asked gently.

“Colin . . . was a . . . smart kid.” Mr. Thorne’s words came between labored breaths. “Memory card. Gave it to me . . . before they took him. I hid it . . . maintenance closet . . . east wing. Behind the shed.”

Hope flared in Olive’s chest. “When?”

“Night they came for him. I saw . . . everything.” Mr. Thorne’s head lolled. “Been experimenting for years. Kids who fight back . . . disappear. Or worse.”

Her heart pounded harder.

“What happens to them?” Tevin pressed.

“They disappear. Say it’s . . . ‘field trials.’” Mr. Thorne’s breathing grew more labored.

Olive worked at her restraints, feeling for any weakness in the binds. “We need to get to that memory card.”

“Even if we do, we’re outnumbered,” Tevin said. “I saw at least six armed men when they brought me in.”