Subject Seven

Evelyn Hope

Evvy pulled up to the gate and the guard waved her through. From outside there was no sign of trouble, but she didn’t trust that. She’d tried calling the central security office four times and gotten no answer. No answer. That never happened.

She couldn’t very well call the police either, now, could she? That wouldn’t go well at all. The police wouldn’t understand the importance of their work, of their lifelong ambitions.

That meant they were on their own.

She climbed from the car as soon as she parked and pulled out the pistol Tom insisted she carry with her. She was glad of its weight, grateful for the destructive power. If any of the subjects had gotten out, if Seven had gotten loose, especially, God help them all.

Would a bullet even stop Seven? She didn’t know and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

As she approached the security doors at the front of the large warehouse, she paused and listened. For a moment there was nothing to hear-not surprising when you considered the soundproofing they’d had installed-but after a second she could make out the faint sound of the alarms.

Fear caught at her insides and sent wintry chills lashing through her heart and stomach alike.

They had done tests, of course, but Seven was only ten years old. He wasn’t fully matured. They had no idea exactly how strong or how fast he was. He was so much more than human.