“I know,” I said. “He called me on the road.”

The lock clicked, and the left cuff fell free.

Mara rubbed her wrist, her face pale.

“He has your father in the research lab at the end of the hall,” she said. “Natalie, he’s dying.”

“What did they do to him?” I asked, working on the second cuff.

“They stopped his treatments,” she said. “Voss is using him as leverage.”

The second cuff clicked open.

Mara stood up, but her knees buckled.

I caught her by the shoulder, bracing her against my side.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“I have to,” she said, jaw tightening.

A soft chime echoed through the medical ward.

The overhead lights flickered, then dimmed to a pale green hue.

A speaker on the wall crackled to life.

“He is waiting for you, Natalie,” Voss’s voice said through the intercom.

The door at the far end of the ward, leading deeper into the facility, slowly clicked and swung open an inch.

I looked at Mara, then at the dark opening of the door.

I gripped my rifle tighter.

We moved forward.