Chapter 53
Chapter 53 (Nell’s POV)
I didn’t sleep much after Langston’s warning.
Even after I crawled back into bed, pulled the blanket over my head, and tried counting my own heartbeats—nothing worked. Every time I blinked, I saw that folder. Those blank faces. That red blinking light.
And Alex.
Always Alex.
Langston had said he might be the key. But he’d also said we might lose him if we weren’t careful. That terrified me more than anything else.
How do you save someone when you’re barely holding on yourself?
\---
By morning, a heavy fog had rolled in around the cabin. The forest outside the window looked like it belonged to another world—quiet, grey, still.
Rick knocked once before stepping into the room. He had two mugs of coffee in hand.
“I thought you could use this,” he said.
“Thanks.” I sat up slowly, taking the cup. My fingers wrapped around the warmth like it was the only thing holding me together.
Rick sat on the edge of the chair across from me. He looked tired too. He hadn’t shaved. His shirt was wrinkled. It made me feel slightly less broken.
“Langston’s already up,” he said. “Digging through the last of his old files. He’s trying to figure out where Alex might be.”
I nodded slowly.
“I want to help,” I said.
Rick’s expression tightened. “Nell—”
“I’m not asking for permission,” I added. “He’s out there. He’s part of this. And if they’re coming for him like they’re coming for me, I’m not sitting back.”
Rick stared at me for a second, then sighed. “You’re stubborn.”
“I’ve had practice.”
He gave me a small, tired smile. “Alright. Just… don’t do anything reckless.”
I took a sip of the coffee. “Too late for that.”
\---
After breakfast, we gathered around the old kitchen table with Langston.
He had a map spread out across it—paper, not digital. Sections of the city were marked with red circles. Names scribbled in sharp pen.
“This,” he said, pointing at a spot on the map, “was one of Alex’s last known locations. He withdrew from the public eye a few months ago, but there are records—security footage, old travel logs—that show he was here.”
Rick leaned in. “How old is this information?”
“Four weeks,” Langston replied. “Give or take.”
I stared at the dot on the map. “Is he alone?”
“Most likely. Since the experiment ended, he hasn’t had consistent contact with anyone outside controlled environments. No real friends. No family on record. That was intentional.”
I swallowed hard.
“He had me,” I said quietly.
Neither of them responded.
Langston moved a few folders aside and opened up a laptop. “This system is off the grid, but it still works. We’ll scan older footage—try to spot patterns. He may have changed cars or routines, but he can’t vanish completely.”
“Unless they made him,” I muttered.
Langston didn’t argue.
\---
While they worked, I slipped away to the small pantry off the kitchen. I found the burner phone Langston had left me two days ago, still tucked in a drawer under a box of dusty canned beans.
I turned it on.
It took a minute to boot up.
Then I typed in a single number from memory.
Lena’s.
The phone rang once. Then twice.
“Hello?”
Her voice.
Just hearing it made my throat tighten.
“Lena… it’s me.”
“Nell? Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?! Your mom said you disappeared. Everyone’s freaking out!”
“I—I’m okay. I just… needed to be somewhere safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“I can’t explain it right now. I just needed to hear your voice.”
There was silence on the other end.
“You’re scaring me,” she said softly.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Another pause.
“Nell… if something’s wrong, tell me. We can go to the police, or—”
“No. You can’t. Please, Lena. Just stay out of this. Keep my brother safe. Tell my mom I love her.”
“Don’t talk like that,” she said quickly. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye.”
“I’m not. I promise. I’ll explain everything. Just… not yet.”
“Okay.” Her voice cracked. “Just be careful, okay? Don’t disappear again.”
“I won’t.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
I hung up before I lost my nerve.
\---
When I walked back into the kitchen, Langston didn’t ask where I went.
Instead, he pointed to the map again.
“There,” he said. “We found a trace. He was seen entering a private building three nights ago. Surveillance was weak, but it matches Alex’s profile.”
Rick looked up. “Where?”
“An old safehouse. Near the city’s northern border. Quiet neighborhood. Tight security.”
“Then that’s where we go,” Rick said.
Langston didn’t move. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why?”
Langston looked at me. “Because if Alex is starting to remember things… his mind might not handle it well.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“These implants—they weren’t designed to coexist with real memory. If his brain starts rejecting the false data while reconnecting to the real ones, he’ll feel like he’s breaking.”
I leaned on the table. “Then we find him. We help him.”
Langston met my eyes.
“If he remembers everything too fast… we might lose him for good.”