CHAPTER 53
Barnaby looked as scared as Kate felt. Somehow it made her feel more confident: being the leader of the conspiracy.
Her confidence waned slightly when she saw the skinny Asian guard reading a comic book outside the double doors to the residential wing. When he saw them, he tossed the thin staple of pages on the table and watched them approach the card reader on the wall.
Kate scanned her card. Green.
She pushed the door open and took a step inside. Barnaby followed, close on her heels.
“No! You— You scan too!” The guard pointed at Barnaby, whose eyes grew wide as he stepped back, like he was about to be shot.
“You scan.” The man pointed at the scanner.
Barnaby clutched his card to his chest, then swiped it. Red.
The guard rose. “ID.” He reached toward Barnaby.
The blonde scientist backed into the wall, dropping his ID. “She made me do it. She’s crazy!”
Kate stepped between them. “It’s ok, Barnaby.” She picked up the ID and handed it to him. “I wanted him to walk me to work, but it’s ok.” She put a hand on the small of his back and pushed him away. “It’s ok. See you later, Barnaby.” She turned back to the guard, held up her ID and swiped it again. “See — green.” She punched through the door and waited for a second.
The doors stayed closed; maybe she was safe. Kate wandered farther into the wing. Every twenty feet or so was a large door, apparently a corridor to some other area. As far as the eye could see, it was the same, doors and symmetrical corridors. And it was quiet, an unnerving kind of quiet.
She swiped her card at the nearest door and ventured inside. It was some sort of barracks or… a college dorm — that was what came to mind. She was standing in a large common room that led to six smaller rooms, each with bunk beds. No, they weren’t quite like dorm rooms… they were too sparse, more like cells in a prison. And they were empty. Abandoned, actually. The cells were disheveled; blankets and clothes littered the floors; personal belongings were strewn across the small sinks beside the bunk beds — as if the occupants had left in a hurry.
Kate retreated from the room and resumed walking in the main corridor for a while. Her tennis shoes made a squeaking sound with every step she took. In the distance, she heard talking. She had to go toward it, but some part of her resisted. It was safe here in the empty rooms, with no people.
She turned at the next “crossroads” and walked toward the talking. She could see it now — something like a nurse’s station in a hospital: a high-top bar with files laying on it and two or three women behind it.
There was another sound, from another direction — the loud rhythmic clop of boots echoing in the empty corridor. They were getting close. She inched closer to the nurses. She heard their voices “They want them all now.”—”I know”—”That’s what I said”—”Nothing they ever do makes sense”—”They aren’t even treating”—
Kate jerked around — the boots, behind her. Six men, guards. They were running toward her, guns drawn. “Stop where you are!”
She could run and maybe make it to the nurses station. The guards were closing fast now, 20 feet away. She took a step, then another, but they were there, around here, pointing their guns at her.
Kate held up her hands.