Chapter Three: The Flash Drive
Then let's find out together, Jaxon said.
Elara hesitated, eyes flicking to the flash drive on the table between them. It was small, harmless looking, but something about it made her pulse quicken. Something inside her recognized it. Or feared it.
What if it's nothing? she asked. Or worse… what if it proves everything I'm afraid of?
Jaxon leaned forward, his tone gentle but firm. The truth can't hurt more than the lie you've been living.
She wanted to believe that.
Outside, a siren wailed in the distance. Inside the diner, everything else faded, the hum of the fridge, the hiss of the coffee pot, even the quiet clink of dishes from the kitchen. All she could focus on was that flash drive. And the man who handed it to her.
Come on, Jaxon said. I know a place close by. Private. Off the grid. If there's something on that drive, we'll find it.
She nodded, pushing away the last of her fear. Let's go.
Jaxon's car was a beat up black sedan that blended into the city like a ghost. Elara sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, fingers trembling as the city blurred outside the window.
She didn't know if it was the cold, the nerves, or the growing realization that her life, as she knew it, had been a carefully constructed illusion.
How did you know to look for me? she asked after a while.
Jaxon kept his eyes on the road. Your father contacted me before he died. Sent me files, messages. Said something big was coming. That if he went missing, or if anything happened to you, I'd know where to start.
So my father trusted you?
He glanced her way. With his last words.
That hit her like a punch. She swallowed hard. I don't even remember what he looked like.
You will, Jaxon said quietly. When the memories start coming back, they hit fast. And hard.
And if they never come? she asked.
Then we still take them down. Memory or not, you deserve the truth.
They pulled into an old parking garage downtown and took a service elevator up to a loft above a print shop. Inside, it was dim but warm. A few laptops sat on a long desk, surrounded by files, coffee mugs, and a half-eaten sandwich.
This is your base? she asked.
He smirked. Welcome to HQ.
Elara stood in the middle of the room, feeling strangely grounded for the first time in days.
Jaxon booted up a laptop and plugged in the flash drive. It whirred. The screen blinked.
Then a folder appeared: PROJECT LUCID CONFIDENTIAL
They looked at each other.
Jaxon double clicked.
The folder opened to reveal dozens of files, documents, internal memos, medical reports. And then, one labeled Video Archive: ELARA 9.14
Her throat went dry. Play it.
Jaxon hesitated. Are you sure?
"No," she said. But do it anyway.
He clicked the file.
The screen filled with grainy footage. A white room. Cold, clinical. Elara, herself, sat strapped to a chair, wires attached to her temples. Her face was pale, eyes dull, mouth slack.
A man off screen spoke. Subject 019. Final sequence initiation. Begin memory extraction protocol.
Then her own voice, thin, broken.
Please… I don't want to forget. Please, don't take him.
The screen went black.
Elara staggered backward, her hand flying to her mouth.
Jaxon stood quickly, reaching for her. Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay.
But she wasn't.
She wasn't okay.
She had been tortured. Experimented on. Treated like a subject. Like a machine.
I was awake, she whispered. I was awake the whole time.
I'm so sorry, Jaxon said. This confirms everything. Harrison, he funded this. Your uncle isn't just running Sinclair Enterprises. He's running a goddamn human experiment.
Elara sat down hard on the edge of the couch, head in her hands. They took my memory… and someone I cared about.
Jaxon's eyes narrowed. What did you mean, 'don't take him'?
She looked up. I don't know. But I think I was trying to hold on to someone before they erased me.
He nodded slowly. Then we figure out who that was.
But before either of them could speak again, the power flickered. Then went out.
A beat of silence.
Then, glass shattered.
Down! Jaxon shouted, grabbing Elara and pulling her behind the desk just as a masked figure burst through the window, dressed head to toe in black.
The intruder moved fast, too fast.
Jaxon fired off a shot, but the man rolled, dodging it. He tackled Jaxon hard. They struggled, fists slamming, boots crunching broken glass.
Elara scrambled to her feet. She looked around, and spotted a metal lamp.
Without thinking, she grabbed it and swung.
It connected with a crack.
The attacker fell back, dazed. But only for a second.
Then, another figure entered the room.
Damian Wolfe.
Elara's breath caught.
He didn't hesitate. He tackled the masked man from behind, slamming him into the wall. A flurry of punches, a flash of a blade. The attacker lunged toward Elara.
Damian stepped in the way, took the knife in the side, and still kept fighting.
Elara backed into the corner, frozen.
Then the attacker staggered, bleeding, and disappeared through the broken window.
Silence.
Damian collapsed against the wall, breathing hard, blood seeping through his shirt.
Jaxon pulled himself up, eyes wild. What the hell are you doing here?
I followed you, Damian said. I had to.
Elara stared at him, shaking. You're bleeding.
I've had worse.
She swallowed. Why did you come?
Damian looked at her, truly looked at her.
Because I saved you once. And I'll keep saving you. Whether you trust me or not.