Chapter 3: Three Men, Seven Seconds

Matthew's people wanted me to go to the back gate. 

They probably thought I'd follow their script.

But I wasn't going to hand my daughter's life — or mine — over to a location they picked.

The rescue team's map was still burned into my head from five years ago. 

Back gate. Old gymnasium. Dumpster. Underground entrance. Four points. Seven minutes.

When I killed the engine, I heard them laughing at the basement door. 

"The fever makes it look more real," one of them said. "Perfect for squeezing her father."

I closed my eyes for a second. 

None of these men were walking away tonight.

I pulled a roll of medical tape and a pair of folding scissors from the emergency motorcycle's tool box. 

I strapped on a face shield.

I moved along the gymnasium's shadow line toward the dormitory basement entrance. 

Stopped at the corner.

Three men stood outside the basement door. 

One guarding the entrance. One filming with his phone. Another crouched by the door, smoking. 

All three wore wristbands with the Bluetend Research Center logo.

Not school parents. 

Matthew's people.

Through the door, I could hear Abigail crying — thin, weak, scared.

I closed my eyes again. 

When I opened them, everything else was gone.

Three men. 

Fire extinguisher on the left. Electrical cabinet on the right. 

Seven seconds.

I pulled the extinguisher off the wall and yanked the pin.

One second later — 

A cloud of white powder blasted into the corridor.

All three of them started coughing, cursing.

"Who the hell — "

"What is this?!"

I charged through the smoke.

First man — the one with the phone.

He never saw me coming. 

I caught his wrist, twisted his elbow the wrong way, and used his own momentum to slam him into the second man.

They collided hard and went down together.

Third man — the guard. 

He pulled a folding knife and lunged at me.

I grabbed the fire hose from the cabinet, whipped it at his feet, and sent him stumbling. 

His blade grazed my suit — tore through the fabric — but I didn't feel it.

I wrapped the hose around his wrist and looped it once around the hydrant valve. 

His arm locked overhead. 

He screamed.

The smoker came at me from behind. 

I turned, sidestepped, drove my knee into his stomach. 

He doubled over.                                                         

I grabbed his hair and slammed his face against the steel door.

Bang.

The corridor went quiet.

Three men. 

On the ground.

Seven seconds.

The last one still conscious looked up at me, shaking. 

"You're just a warehouse foreman … how the hell — "

I crouched down and pulled the keys from his pocket. 

"Before I was a warehouse foreman, I was a rescue team leader."

"You go back and tell Matthew — " 

"The next men he sends should bring more backup."

I unlocked the basement door.

Inside was dark. 

Shelves had collapsed. Cardboard boxes were scattered everywhere.

Abigail was pressed into the farthest corner. 

Her school jacket was torn. 

She saw me — and the tears just broke loose.

"Dad …"

I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms.

She was burning up. 

The heat coming off her hit me like a punch to the chest. 

Forehead, neck —  Fever. 

Rapid breathing. 

Red marks on her wrist.

Same as Andy. Right before he died.

"Dad … I didn't leave," she whispered. "You told me to hide. I stayed."

"I know."

I held her tighter.

"You did good."

She clutched my jacket. 

"They said Mom died because of me."

"That's not true."

"They said my brother too."

"That's not true either."

"They said if you came for me, I'd kill you too."

I pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes.

"Abigail. Listen to me."

"Your mother was killed by the people selling fake medicine."

"Your brother was killed by quarantines that cared more about procedure than people."

"You are not the one who should be scared."

"The people trying to make money off you — they're the ones who should be terrified."

Footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. 

School security. A few parents. And more of Matthew's men.

A man with gold‑rimmed glasses pointed at me and shouted. 

"That's him! Abigail's father! He ran out of the hospital!"

A woman screamed. "You still dare come to this school? Your family's killed enough people!"

"Throw them both out!"

I put Abigail behind me.

"Try it."

My voice wasn't loud. 

But everyone in the corridor stopped.

The man with the gold‑rimmed glasses straightened up. 

"This is a school. You don't get to cause trouble here."

I looked at him. "Who ordered my daughter grabbed?"

His eyes flickered. 

"We just asked her to leave the dorm — for the safety of every student here."

I smiled. 

"For the safety of every student."

"Your daughter is applying to college next year, isn't she?"

His face went pale.

"I'm guessing," I said, "you made a call to someone in administration just now."

"And that someone agreed."

"They agreed that an infection risk like Abigail could be quietly removed tonight."

"They agreed to give your daughter the best isolation dorm on campus."

"Am I right?"

The man's face was white now. 

"How do you — "

"I picked up a radio in the hospital corridor."     

I pulled it from my pocket. 

"Got your conversation from five minutes ago."

"Mr. Jackson? This is the St. Lyne International School Parent Council. That Abigail girl … could you have a word?"

The crowd went silent.

The parents behind the gold‑rimmed glasses man started backing away.

I tucked the radio back into my pocket.

"After tonight — " 

"You're not going to be the head of the Parent Council anymore."

"And that administrator — he won't be an administrator much longer either."

From the back of the crowd, a man with a blue wristband raised his phone.

Matthew's voice came through the speaker.

"Joseph. Your daughter's already showing symptoms."

"Where are you going to take her?"

I looked at the phone screen. 

Matthew was smiling.

"You can't save her," he said. 

"But I can."

"Come to my livestream tomorrow night."

"Tell everyone that Bluetend Capsules saved your life."

"And I'll give your daughter the medicine."

I stared at the screen. 

"You don't have the medicine."

Matthew's smile froze for half a second.

"If you had it, you wouldn't have run from the east gate when that zone went hot."

The livestream chat exploded.

Matthew's face darkened. 

"Joseph. Don't do something you'll regret."

I knocked the phone out of the man's hand.

It hit the ground and shattered.

I picked Abigail up and walked out.

No one tried to stop me.

But halfway through the underground passage — 

Sirens.

The school's announcement system crackled to life.

"Attention all personnel. St. Lyne International School is now under maximum lockdown."

"Joseph Miller. Stop moving immediately."

Abigail was burning up in my arms.

Police cars ahead. 

Matthew's people behind.

I started the bike. 

"Hold on."

The lockdown lights turned the school road white. 

I gunned the throttle and didn't look back.