Page 28 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, centering herself on the one truth she knew above all else: she wouldn’t let him win.

She thought of Chris, the determination in his eyes.

Liam, teasing her about taking so long to come back.

Bash, rough and ready to bulldoze through anything for her.

William, the reassurance in his touch. And Alex, promising they’d be there soon.

Their voices steadied her, gave her the strength to endure.

Victor stepped closer, examining her as if she were some fascinating specimen. “Your resilience is commendable. Rare, these days.” His tone suggested this was not a compliment but a challenge. “Your unique perspective is what makes you so essential.”

She stared back at him, refusing to let his words sink in. “You have no idea what I am,” she said, keeping her voice even.

“I know more than you might think,” Victor replied, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. “The world as you knew it is over, Emma. Your new life awaits.”

She held her breath and tried to keep her gaze as calm and steady as possible. She’d faced far worse than this man, and maybe they were wrong about him. Maybe the ship was a necessary evil. Maybe he was the good guy.

Then why does it feel like he’s assaulting me with every word?

“Children,” Victor began again, dropping the word into the silence with surgical precision. He watched her, eager for the incision to cut deep. Emma felt it pierce through her, pain radiating out with each heartbeat.

He watched her reaction, the satisfaction in his eyes chilling her to the bone.

“Imagine, Emma. A new generation of compliant children,” he continued, each word a scalpel.

“The rebirth of humanity under careful guidance. Children reaching birth only if they are perfect in every way and injected with a few extra genes to keep our race around.”

Her world spun, the floor seeming to tilt beneath her feet. It wasn’t just her life he wanted to destroy. It was her child, her future with the men she loved. A low, choked sound escaped her lips, but she swallowed it down, refusing to let him see her break.

“You bastard,” she breathed, fury and terror twisting together inside her. She couldn’t show him how deeply the blow had landed. Couldn’t let him know just how close to despair she’d come.

Victor smiled, thin and satisfied. “Ah, I see you’re beginning to understand. Your protective instincts will serve the island well, once you recognize the futility of resistance.”

She glared at Victor, her voice steady even as the words shook her to the core. “I’ll never be part of your plan. I don’t care what you think you know. You’re never getting what you want from me.”

“Such conviction,” Victor mused, not the least bit threatened. He moved toward the door, the calm, measured steps of a man confident in his victory. “I’ll leave you to consider your options.”

He turned to a woman in a stark white uniform. “See to it that our guest receives the proper treatment. A simple injection should suffice for now, her will is too strong. Seems she needs to forget a little, potentially every time.”

Emma’s stomach dropped. The nurse nodded, retrieving a syringe that gleamed in the fluorescent light. The sight of it spurred Emma into motion, her resolve snapping into focus. She had to get out, had to warn them. Had to protect her child from this nightmare.

Victor paused at the door, casting a final, assessing glance over his shoulder. “We’ll speak again once you’ve had time to adjust.”

Emma barely registered the words, her mind consumed with escape. She watched the nurse approach, gauging the distance, calculating her chances. Bash had shown her what to do, how to defend herself, how to turn fear into action. She took a steadying breath, letting the panic solidify into resolve.

Closer.

Heather was closer now, the syringe poised and ready. Emma forced herself to stay still, waiting for the perfect moment, remembering everything she’d learned. She thought she had Emma cornered. She likely thought Emma would just give up.

Heather had no idea what Emma was willing to do.

Just a little longer.

Just one more second.

Emma’s muscles coiled, preparing for the strike.

Heather’s fingers were a hair’s breadth from Emma’s skin. Too close. Emma shot out her arm, twisting it just as Bash had taught her, moving with surgical precision.

The syringe clattered to the floor, and Emma’s next move came without hesitation. She grabbed the nurse’s other arm, the adrenaline sharpening her focus, and spun her around with a quickness that took them both by surprise.

She locked the woman’s wrist in place, bending it until she felt the slightest give of muscle and bone. The nurse cried out, the sound sharp and startled in the empty room. Emma ignored it, eyes fixed on the small vial of liquid that had nearly stolen everything from her.

One chance. She had one chance to do this right. Her heart thundered in her chest, but her hands were steady as she scooped up the syringe and slammed it into the nurse’s arm.

The nurse gasped, a look of disbelief flickering across her face. She wavered on her feet, eyes wide with shock as the drug took hold. Emma felt a momentary sting of pity, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She had her own life to save.

The woman slumped to the floor, and Emma checked to make sure she was truly out. The nurse’s chest rose and fell in shallow, even breaths. Still alive, but completely unconscious. Emma released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

The room spun around her, the rush of adrenaline giving way to an exhaustion that seeped into her bones. But there was no time to rest, no time to waste. Her movements were methodical, determined

She was still here, still standing and without whatever the hell Victor just tried to do to her.

It took every ounce of focus to push down the rising tide of panic and let her training guide her. She wouldn’t fail. She wouldn’t falter. She’d make it back to them. Back to the family she had to protect at all costs.

She wiped the sweat from her brow with a trembling hand, the final remnants of fear fading as resolve settled in its place. Victor thought she’d crumble, thought she was weak. But she’d shown him.

There were more vials on the floor. Emma took one last look at the unconscious nurse, making sure she was truly incapacitated. Her breathing was deep and slow, limbs sprawled like a discarded doll. Emma turned away, focusing on her escape.

“Grab them,” she told no one and reached down to scoop up the vials. Something that could make people forget could be useful, especially since she’d be back at this appointment again and would need to do the same thing.

Each step she took was more sure than the last, the plan crystallizing in her mind. She had to get out, had to find her men. Had to tell them everything. The urgency propelled her forward, one clear thought blazing in her mind.

She’d come this far.

She would go further.

Emma darted through the facility like blood through a vein. The walls were a glaring white blur as she moved, breath tight in her lungs, senses screaming with urgency.

She hugged the corridor, footsteps barely a whisper against the polished floor. Every door felt like a threat waiting to explode, each corner a blind spot hiding something worse than danger. She couldn’t slow down. Couldn’t stop. Every second counted.

Her pulse matched the pace of her escape, wild and frantic in her ears.

Emma raced past rooms that looked like empty shells, their starkness magnified by the echoing silence.

The oppressive hum of machines buzzed around her, reminding her she was still deep inside this place, and one wrong move could seal her fate.

A shadow flickered down the hall, and she pressed herself flat against the wall, the adrenaline sharpening her instincts. She waited, breathless, as it passed, then slipped out again with a burst of speed.

The door. She just needed to find the door. Her heart pounded the mantra through her body: Get out. Find them. Warn them. She turned a corner, scanning for signs of life, but found only the same sterile, sinister calm.

Everything around her was designed to break people, to crush them under the weight of hopelessness and control. The thought sent a jolt through her limbs, giving her the strength to keep going, to not lose herself in the madness.

She skidded to a stop at a junction, unsure of which way would lead her to freedom. It all looked the same, endless white stretching in every direction. But she wouldn’t let that stop her. Couldn’t let them win.

This was bigger than she’d thought. Bigger than Victor’s sick plans.

The horror of it threatened to overwhelm her, but she pushed it down, forcing herself to keep moving.

If they were after compliant children, if that was their goal, it meant more danger than she’d even imagined.

It meant others like her, others who wouldn’t stand a chance.

They had to know. Chris, Liam, Bash, William, Alex—they had to know what they were up against. They couldn’t think she was lost. They couldn’t give up on her. She wouldn’t let them.

She chose a direction, a guess more than a decision, and sprinted for the end of the hall. There was a door. The outline of it was like a beacon, and she let herself hope for the first time since she’d been captured.

Freedom.

It was almost close enough to taste. But she knew it was just the beginning of another fight, another battle for survival. She wouldn’t rest, wouldn’t stop, not until she was back with them.

Emma pushed herself harder, lungs burning, the urgency fueling every step. She slammed into the door, and it gave way beneath her momentum, flinging her out into the cold air of a darkened alley.

She stumbled, caught herself, and didn’t dare look back. Only forward, always forward. She wouldn’t let them take anything more from her. Not her men, not her child, not her future.

Every breath felt like a promise, every heartbeat a vow. She could do this. She would. For them. For all of them.