32. Clay
Clay
The second Hannah looks at Avery—
really looks at her—
everything else disappears.
Not Sentinel.
Not Wu.
Not the guns pointed at us.
Just Avery bleeding out on the tunnel floor.
Doctor mode.
It slams into Hannah instantly.
Fast.
Focused.
Terrifyingly calm.
“Russ, chest seal,” she snaps, dropping beside Avery. “Now.”
Russ moves immediately.
Good man.
Clay Vincent is currently too busy imagining twenty-seven different ways to kill Director Wu slowly.
Hannah presses both hands against Avery’s wound.
Blood spills between her fingers immediately.
Too much.
Way too much.
Avery gasps in pain.
“Hey,” Hannah whispers instantly. “Hey, stay with me. Look at me.”
Her voice changes when she’s treating someone.
Gentler.
Steadier.
Like she’s willing her patients to survive through sheer force alone.
Avery’s eyes struggle to focus on her.
“You remember me now.”
Tears slide down Hannah’s face.
“Yes.”
Barely a whisper.
“Yes, I remember you.”
Avery lets out this tiny broken laugh that almost destroys me where I kneel.
“Took you long enough.”
Hannah chokes out a shaky breath.
And for one second—
one impossibly fragile second—
they almost look like normal women teasing each other.
Not survivors of some nightmare hidden beneath the world.
Not children raised inside torture.
Just two girls who once loved each other enough to survive hell together.
Then blood bubbles from Avery’s mouth.
Hannah’s face changes instantly.
Fear.
Real fear.
“No no no—Avery stay with me.”
She presses harder against the wound.
Wrong place.
Center mass.
Upper chest.
I know enough medicine to recognize a fatal shot when I see one.
And judging by the look on Russ’s face—
he knows it too.
Hannah doesn’t stop.
Won’t stop.
“Clay,” she snaps. “I need gauze.”
I rip open another med pack instantly and shove it into her hand.
Her fingers shake while she works.
Not because she’s panicking.
Because this matters too much.
Avery watches Hannah the entire time.
Not the guns.
Not Sentinel.
Just Hannah.
Like she’s trying to memorize her all over again before she dies.
No.
Absolutely not.
Hannah isn’t losing her tonight.
Not after just getting her back.
Wu watches the scene in silence.
Cold.
Detached.
Like this is beneath him now.
I hate him so much my vision keeps blurring red around the edges.
Hannah seals the wound.
“Come on,” she whispers desperately. “Come on, Avery.”
Avery winces hard.
“You always sucked at giving orders.”
Hannah laughs through a sob.
And suddenly—
another memory hits her.
I see it happen.
Her whole body freezes for half a second.
Children sitting cross-legged on a concrete floor.
Avery stealing pudding cups from the cafeteria.
Hannah bossing everybody around during storms because she thought structure kept people calmer.
Avery calling her “Bossy Bowers.”
Hannah gasps softly.
“Oh my God…”
Avery smiles weakly.
“There you are.”
Wu notices the memory retrieval immediately.
His eyes sharpen.
“Enough emotional stimulation,” he says calmly. “Her recall acceleration is destabilizing.”
“Shut up,” I growl.
For once?
Wu actually listens.
Probably because even he can tell Hannah is barely holding herself together now.
Avery grips Hannah’s wrist weakly.
“Hannah…”
“Don’t talk.”
“You always say that.”
“Because patients who talk bleed more.”
Avery coughs painfully.
“Still bossy.”
Jesus Christ.
Hannah’s face breaks apart completely.
She’s trying so hard not to cry while saving her.
Trying to stay clinical.
Professional.
But this isn’t just a patient.
This is someone she loved before Sentinel stole her memories.
And maybe the last living piece of the girl she used to be.
Russ checks the tunnel behind us.
More movement deeper inside.
More Sentinel teams closing in.
“We’re running out of time.”
“No,” Hannah says instantly.
Not looking away from Avery.
“No.”
The force behind that word stops everyone.
Even Wu watches carefully now.
Because Hannah Bowers is done being handled.
Done being controlled.
Done being broken quietly.
Avery suddenly grabs Hannah harder.
Panic flashes across her face.
“The red room.”
Hannah nods quickly.
“I know.”
“No—you don’t.” Avery coughs hard again. Blood stains her lips darker. “You have to remember where it is.”
Wu steps forward immediately.
Every weapon in the tunnel rises at once.
“Enough,” he says sharply.
Avery ignores him completely.
“You hid the list after Twelve died.”
My stomach twists.
Subject Twelve.
Nine years old. Avery’s sister.
Jesus Christ.
Hannah shakes her head desperately.
“I can’t remember!”
“You will.”
Wu’s voice cuts in coldly.
“She always did under pressure.”
Something in Hannah snaps at that.
She slowly rises to her feet.
Blood coats her hands.
Avery’s blood.
And when Hannah turns toward Wu now—
she looks different.
Not frightened.
Not confused.
Furious.
“You don’t get to stand there and talk about us like experiments.”
Wu remains perfectly calm.
“You survived because of our methods.”
“No.” Hannah steps toward him. “The ones that survived was because we had each other.”
The tunnel goes dead silent.
Avery starts crying softly behind her.
Wu studies Hannah carefully.
And for the first time—
I think he realizes something important.
He lost her.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Completely.
Hannah points at the Sentinel operatives.
“At them, maybe you see weapons.” Her voice shakes with rage. “But I remember children.”
Wu’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
Interesting.
A weak point.
Finally.
Hannah’s eyes burn now.
“How many are there?”
No answer.
“How many children are still inside Sentinel?”
Silence.
Then Avery whispers behind her—
“Forty-three.”
Every person in that tunnel freezes.
Forty-three.
Forty-three children.
Dear God.
Russ slowly lowers his weapon.
Not in surrender.
In disbelief.
Gabriel mutters a curse under his breath.
Lucas looks sick.
Miles grips the little girl tighter protectively.
And Hannah?
Hannah goes completely still.
Like the weight of that number just settled onto her shoulders.
Wu’s voice stays calm.
“They are protected.”
Avery laughs weakly from the floor.
“There it is again.”
Hannah looks at Wu with absolute horror.
“You’re still doing this.”
“We are preserving exceptional minds.”
“You’re torturing children!”
“We are preparing them for survival.”
Hannah shakes her head slowly.
“No.”
Her voice cracks.
“No more.”
Wu’s eyes sharpen.
“Hannah.”
“No more.”
The tunnel lights flicker again overhead.
Avery suddenly gasps sharply.
Hannah spins back instantly.
“Avery?”
Wrong.
Very wrong.
I see it immediately.
Her breathing changed.
Shallow now.
Erratic.
Hannah sees it too.
Panic flashes across her face.
“No no no no—stay with me.”
Avery looks up at her weakly.
And suddenly she doesn’t look like a hardened survivor anymore.
She just looks tired.
So unbelievably tired.
“Hannah…”
“Don’t.”
Avery smiles softly.
“You came back.”
The words destroy Hannah.
“I’m here,” she whispers frantically. “I’m here now.”
Avery’s trembling fingers reach toward Hannah’s face.
“You used to sing when we were scared.”
Hannah breaks completely.
Tears spill freely now.
“I remember.”
Avery smiles.
Small.
Peaceful.
“Good.”
Then her eyes suddenly lose focus.
“Hannah—” I start.
“No.”
Hannah grabs Avery harder.
“No no no STAY WITH ME!”
She starts compressing the wound again desperately even though we all know.
Even though she knows.
“Avery!”
Russ looks away.
Gabriel goes still.
The tunnel feels frozen in place.
Wu watches silently.
Emotionless.
And Hannah keeps trying.
Blood all over her hands.
Voice breaking apart.
Begging.
Pleading.
Fighting death with everything inside her.
But some wounds are too catastrophic.
Avery’s hand slips from Hannah’s wrist slowly.
Then falls still.
No.
God.
No.
Hannah stops breathing for a second.
Actually stops.
The entire tunnel goes silent around her.
Then she whispers the smallest, most shattered word I’ve ever heard in my life.
“No…”