CHAPTER 298

The ticking was a clock counting down the last seconds of our freedom. It was the sound of a cage door sliding shut. The boy—his name was Elias—stared at the grey box as if it were a serpent, his earlier terror now eclipsed by a confused dread. He didn't understand what it was, only that it had come from the eviscerated remains of his brother's life.

"It was in his satchel," Elias whispered, his voice breaking. "He always carried his satchel…"

"The beast let him keep it," I said, the pieces clicking into a horrifying mosaic. "It let him run, with that thing in his bag. It was using him to find other survivors. To find… new specimens."

Jeff was already moving. He snatched up the box. It was cool and unnervingly light. He turned it over in his hands, looking for a seam, a switch, anything.

"Can you disable it?" I asked, my voice tight.

"It's Archive tech. It might as well be magic," he muttered, frustration etching lines on his face. He raised it, ready to smash it against a rock.

"No!"