Chapter 209: Chapter 208 - Found
They moved along the edge of the restricted zone and kept low as Malcolm led them through the darker blocks. Most of the guards were closer to the river, and the streets here were thin on patrols, which made the gaps easier to find.
Malcolm stopped at a section of fence and worked through it without wasting time. The metal gave, and they slipped in one after another.
They were inside uptown Manhattan.
The buildings around them stood quiet and dark, windows black, doors shut, no movement inside.
They kept moving.
Block after block.
They stayed low and moved in bursts, crouching, then running, then stopping again when Malcolm raised a hand.
It wore on them.
Iyisha felt it in her legs first. The strain built with every step, and her breathing got heavier the longer they pushed.
Behind her, Lance was struggling to keep pace. His breathing was loud now, uneven, and she could hear it every time they stopped.
Marybeth was not any better. She stayed moving, but her breath came out harder each time they paused.
Only Malcolm kept steady.
They reached another fence and stopped.
This one had guards.
Malcolm watched them for a moment, then turned and moved along the edge, and they followed until he found a darker section with no one watching.
He cut through again.
They slipped inside.
The lights from a nearby building spilled faintly across the ground, and Iyisha let out a breath she had been holding.
They made it through.
She glanced at Malcolm’s watch.
Five hours.
Five hours of moving, hiding, waiting.
They pushed into a dark building near Harlem and stayed inside, away from the street.
"Fuck," Marybeth breathed as she leaned back against the wall.
Iyisha dropped beside her, and her legs shook as she tried to steady her breathing while her stomach twisted with hunger, so she pressed a hand against it for a second.
Lance sank down near them, drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling fast.
"You okay?" Iyisha asked.
He gave a thumbs up without speaking, still trying to catch his breath.
Malcolm moved ahead of them and checked the corners and the rest of the space before settling.
Marybeth pushed herself up and motioned at Iyisha, and they moved closer to the window and peeked out while keeping low as they checked the building across the street.
"Harlem Hospital Center," Marybeth read under her breath. "You were a doctor, right?"
"I’m still a doctor," Iyisha said.
"Yeah," Marybeth said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "The only blade you hold now is that." She pointed at Iyisha’s machete. "What I’m asking is, have you been here before?"
Iyisha let out a short laugh and looked away for a second. "I’ve been here," she said quietly. "We had hospital observation."
Marybeth nodded. "Good. That’s the only building with lights. If there’s a lab, it’s probably in there."
Iyisha kept her eyes on it a moment longer.
The lab was one thing.
The admin building was another.
If she wanted anything on Cena, it would be there.
She pressed her lips together, then pulled back.
They returned to Malcolm and Lance.
Lance was sitting up now, his breathing still heavy but steadier than before.
Iyisha crouched beside him and watched his face for a second before looking up at Malcolm.
"I know this building," she said quietly. "If they’re keeping anything..." She paused and glanced at Lance. "It’ll be on the upper floors."
"The place is massive," Marybeth said. "Maybe we split into two teams?"
Malcolm shook his head. "No."
Marybeth lifted her hands slightly. "Okay."
"Let’s go," Malcolm muttered.
They moved along the side of the building and kept low as they checked the windows, and from the outside it looked almost empty and too quiet for a place like this.
They kept going until Malcolm found one slightly open.
It creaked.
They stilled and listened but nothing reacted inside.
Then they slipped inside one by one.
The ground level was clear.
They took the stairs to the second floor, and the place was empty too, but Iyisha slowed as she looked around because the equipment was gone and the shelves were cleared, and yet she could hear movement from the floor above.
A guard passed the hallway ahead, and they pressed into a corner as voices followed, guards talking, and they stayed still until the sound faded before moving quickly to the stairs.
Malcolm opened the door to the third floor slowly.
This one was alive.
Doctors moved between rooms, civilians sat or stood along the walls, and nurses passed them without stopping, and they pulled their jackets close to hide their weapons while they walked like they belonged there.
Iyisha’s heart pounded as they moved through the hallway, and she slowed when she saw through a glass panel that patients were lying in beds while nurses worked beside them.
This was not a lab.
This was a hospital.
One nurse looked at them with suspicion but did not move from the bedside, and Iyisha kept walking while forcing her breathing to stay steady until they reached the stairs again.
She let out a breath when she saw the keypad on the next door because the security meant something inside mattered.
"We can’t open this," Marybeth said as she checked the keypad.
Malcolm stepped in beside her and studied it.
Iyisha moved closer when Lance caught her arm. "This is a hospital?"
She looked at him and saw it already, the disappointment sitting on his face, and she did not answer.
Malcolm stepped forward and attached the silencer, then set his bag down and took off his jacket before covering the keypad and firing.
The shot was muffled but still sharp in the space, and the plastic broke as he pushed the door open.
"We’re good," he said, glancing at them.
Iyisha let out a small grin.
"Yeah, yeah," Marybeth said, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him.
Offices.
Glass walls, desks, files.
Iyisha felt her chest tighten. "This could be admin," she said, her voice low but urgent. "Check everything. If the cure is real, there’ll be records, and check for Cena." Her voice softened at the end.
They spread out and moved from office to office, opening drawers and flipping through files, and Iyisha worked fast, scanning names and reports, but it was all the same, city files, energy reports, logistics, nothing that mattered.
Her chest tightened.
Not here.
Where is she?
"Here!"
Marybeth’s voice came from the far end.
Iyisha ran.
Doors opened along the corridor as Malcolm and Lance came out from different offices and moved at the same time toward her. They fell into step without speaking, closing the distance fast.
Lance reached her side first and pushed a folder into her hands as they kept moving.
"What’s that?" she asked.
"Only one in the room," he said.
She glanced at the name.
Jean Paul Anderson.
Her steps slowed.
Then she stopped.
Anderson. The first last name in that memo.
Her breath caught as she opened it and scanned the pages, and the words came too fast as she tried to take them in. Injected with serum B-5-9. Result: increased muscle mass. Another entry followed with different compounds and different effects.
"These are experiments," she said.
She looked at Lance, her eyes widening. "You found it."
"Found what?" he asked.
"They’re testing something," she said, pointing at the pages. "Drugs with effects on the body. This isn’t treatment."
"Fuck," Lance muttered.
Malcolm stepped closer and took the file from her, his eyes moving across the pages as he scanned.
"Iyisha," he said quietly.
"This could be it," she said, already leaning in. "Look."
She pointed at a section.
"Rapid osteogenesis," she said. "And this—bone density increased beyond normal physiological limits."
Lance frowned. "What?"
Iyisha didn’t look at him. "They’re inducing structural changes," she said, her eyes still on the page. "Nothing I’ve ever seen."
Her gaze sharpened as she scanned the results again.
This alone changed everything she thought she knew.
Susan had said a cure-all drug.
Maybe she wasn’t wrong.
"See the progression?" she added, tapping the page. "That rate shouldn’t be possible without systemic failure."
Lance blinked. "I have no idea what you just said."
She tapped the page harder. "His bones got stronger. Too fast."
Malcolm’s gaze sharpened slightly.
"No drug I know can do this safely," she said. "This is controlled experimentation."
Malcolm looked up at her. "You’re sure?"
Iyisha met his eyes. "This isn’t treatment," she said. "This is testing."
"Iyisha!"
Marybeth’s voice cut through as she ran toward them, a folder in her hand. "I got it. Cenabelle Clarke, right?"
Iyisha moved before she could think.
The folder looked plain, nothing about it standing out, but her fingers trembled as she took it.
Her eyes stung as she opened it.
A photo.
Cena.
Same face. Same hair.
People used to say they looked like twins, and she saw it now, the same features, the same shape, except for the eyes. Cena got those from their father, gray, round, with thick lashes that made them stand out even more.
Cena had always been the pretty one.
Iyisha’s chest tightened as she flipped through the pages, reading fast. Entry to Manhattan. Assigned to admin sector. Zones. Housing. Credits. Medical logs. Less than a year.
Then it stopped.
Her fingers traced the bottom of the page.
Her finger traced the last line.
Transferred.
She read it again.
And again.
Her jaw tightened as she held the page like it might change.
"She’s not here," she said, her voice breaking as she pulled the folder to her chest. "She’s gone."
The weight of it settled in.
"Where is she?"
Her vision blurred.
"Where’s Cena?"
"Iyisha!" Marybeth shouted. "We got company. Come on."
