Chapter 32: Stolen Future
Chapter 32 · ~4.0k words
"The surrogate didn't survive."
The words hung in the cold basement air, heavy and final. Chloe wasn't just predicting the future; she was scheduling it.
My eyes darted to the gun on the floor. It was equidistant between us. Mark stood frozen, staring at the screen where his new life—his stolen life—glowed in high definition. He looked like a man waking up from a long, drunk dream to find blood on his hands.
"Mark," I whispered. "Look at me. Not her. Look at me."
He didn't move.
Chloe did. She lunged for the computer, her hand slapping onto the tower. She wasn't trying to turn it off. She was trying to rip the hard drive out.
"Don't!" I screamed.
I threw myself at the workbench, not for the gun, but for the USB cable dangling from the front of the tower. I jammed the connector into the port of my dead tablet.
The screen flickered. A grey battery icon appeared. Then the Apple logo.
*Power.*
"Mark, stop her!" Chloe shrieked, grappling with the casing of the PC.
Mark blinked, snapping out of his trance. He stepped between us, but he didn't grab me. He grabbed Chloe.
"Stop it, Elena!" he shouted. "We talked about this! No violence!"
"She knows too much!" Chloe fought him, her nails raking his face. "She's seen the file!"
While they struggled, the tablet booted up. 2%.
I lifted it, my hands shaking so hard the image on the screen blurred. I tapped the camera app. I aimed it at the monitor, at the birth certificate with the future date.
*Click.*
I swiped to the email app. The burner account Brenda had set up for me was still logged in. I attached the photo.
*Recipient: [email protected]*
*Subject: HELP.*
I hit send.
The progress bar appeared. A thin blue line inching across the screen.
*Sending...*
The wifi signal in the basement was weak, struggling through layers of concrete and steel.
*10%...*
"Get the tablet!" Chloe screamed, breaking free from Mark's grip.
She grabbed a heavy wrench from the workbench and swung it. It missed my head by inches, smashing into the drywall. Dust exploded.
I rolled under the table, clutching the device to my chest.
*25%...*
"Elara, give it to me," Mark pleaded, dropping to his knees. "Please. I can fix this. I can make you disappear safely. You don't have to die."
"Disappear?" I gasped, scrambling backward into the tangle of wires. "Like Sarah?"
"Sarah was an accident!"
"And what about me? Is stabbing me with a needle an accident?"
*40%...*
The screen dimmed. Low power mode.
Chloe grabbed my ankle. She dragged me out from under the table. I kicked, my heel connecting with her jaw, but she didn't let go. She was fueled by a decade of desperation.
She hauled me up. She raised the wrench again.
"Mark!" I screamed.
Mark didn't move. He was staring at the monitor again. At a second document that had opened behind the birth certificate.
"Elena," he said, his voice hollow. "What is this?"
Chloe froze, the wrench raised.
"What is what?"
"The cremation order," Mark whispered.
I looked at the screen.
*Order for Direct Cremation.*
*Deceased: Jane Doe (Unidentified Female).*
*Scheduled Date: February 4th, 2026.*
Mark turned to look at the woman he loved.
"You already paid for it," he said. "You paid for it last week."
Chloe lowered the wrench. She didn't look ashamed. She looked annoyed.
"We have to be thorough, Mark. Loose ends sink ships."
The distraction bought me the second I needed. I looked down at the tablet.
*90%...*
The screen flickered. The red line of the battery was empty.
*95%...*
The screen went black.
I tapped it frantically. Nothing.
Did it send? Did it get out?
Chloe laughed. It was a cold, wet sound.
"It died," she said. "Just like you."
She tossed the wrench onto the workbench and picked up the gun. She checked the safety with practiced ease.
"Friday is the birth," she said, pointing the barrel at my chest. "But the complications? They start tonight."
I looked at the date on the cremation order again. February 4th.
That was exactly one week from today.
I didn't have a week. I didn't even have a day.
I had hours.