14 - The Escape

Jamie’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and heavy. Her limbs felt like they were filled with lead, and she fought to remember where she was. Slowly, the sterile clinic room came into focus, and panic clawed at her chest. She remembered the voice—Naomi. The strange, overlapping thoughts that didn’t belong to her.

She tried to sit up but found her wrists strapped to the bed. The leather restraints bit into her skin, and she yanked at them desperately. Her heart raced, and her breathing grew shallow.

“Calm down,” Naomi’s voice whispered inside her mind. “We can’t afford to panic right now.”

“Shut up,” Jamie hissed through clenched teeth. She thrashed against the restraints, but it was no use.

“Stop fighting me,” Naomi insisted. “If you get us killed, it won’t matter who’s in control.”

Jamie froze, anger boiling over. “You’re not real,” she whispered. “You’re just... some glitch. I’m real. I’m Jamie.”

“And I’m Naomi,” the voice replied, quieter now, almost pleading. “But right now, it doesn’t matter who we are. We have to get out of here. He’s going to kill us if we stay.”

Jamie shuddered, the fear in Naomi’s voice sinking into her gut. She couldn’t deny that Crowe was dangerous—she’d seen the calculating coldness in his eyes. He didn’t care about her—he just wanted his experiment to work.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the hum of machinery. Jamie’s anger wavered, and uncertainty seeped in.

“Listen to me,” Naomi pressed. “I don’t know what he did to us, but I know that if he finds out something went wrong, he’ll just try again. We have to escape before he realizes we’re not... integrated.”

Jamie swallowed, feeling the truth of Naomi’s words like a stone in her stomach. “Fine,” she muttered. “We’ll get out. But I’m in charge.”

“Just get us out of here,” Naomi whispered.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Jamie tensed. Dr. Crowe entered, clipboard in hand, his expression cool and professional. He didn’t seem to notice her clenched jaw or the way her eyes tracked his every move.

“How are we feeling today?” he asked, his tone detached.

Jamie didn’t answer, just glared at him. Crowe made a note on his clipboard and moved closer to check the restraints. Jamie felt Naomi’s presence urging her to act.

When he leaned down to inspect the cuff on her wrist, Jamie lashed out, jerking her arm upward and managing to slam her elbow into his face. Crowe staggered back, cursing, and before he could react, Jamie wrenched her other hand free and kicked him in the chest. He stumbled, dropping his clipboard.

“Go, go!” Naomi urged.

Jamie didn’t hesitate. She bolted from the bed, ripping the IV from her arm, and sprinted down the hallway. Her bare feet slapped against the cold linoleum as alarms blared to life. She knew Crowe would call for security, but she didn’t care—she just needed to get out.

As she rounded the corner, two orderlies blocked the way. One lunged for her, but Jamie ducked under his grasp and kneed him hard in the stomach. The other grabbed her arm, but she bit his hand and kicked his knee, sending him sprawling.

“Look for back stairs,” Naomi prompted.

Jamie took the hint, darting down the corridor and shoving through a door marked STAIRS. She leapt down the steps, three at a time, adrenaline numbing the pain in her feet. The exit sign glowed like a beacon below, and she burst through the door into the chilly night air.

She didn’t stop running until she was several blocks away, ducking into an alley and crouching behind a dumpster, gasping for breath.

“We did it,” Naomi whispered, almost in disbelief.

Jamie wiped sweat from her forehead, adrenaline still surging. “Don’t get comfortable,” she muttered. “We’re not safe yet.”

Hours later, as dawn broke over the city, Jamie huddled in an abandoned warehouse, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing thoughts. She knew she needed a plan—somewhere to hide, some way to figure out what the hell had happened to her.

“Go to the police,” Naomi urged. “We have to tell them what Crowe did.”

Jamie shook her head. “They’ll just think I’m crazy. Or worse—they’ll send me back.”

“You can’t just keep running forever,” Naomi argued. “We need help.”

Jamie’s hands shook. “You don’t get it. People like me... the cops don’t listen. They don’t care. You think they’re going to believe I’m some science experiment gone wrong?”

Naomi hesitated, the doubt seeping into her thoughts. “What about a church? There’s a pastor—Father Matthias. He helps people. He... he won’t turn us away.”

Jamie rubbed her temples, the headache pulsing at her skull. “Why him?”

“I... I remember him,” Naomi admitted. “He used to run a community center. He helped a lot of people. If anyone will listen, it’s him.”

Jamie didn’t want to admit it, but Naomi’s idea made sense. A church would be safer than going to the authorities. Cops wouldn’t look for her there.

Reluctantly, she pushed herself to her feet. “Fine. We’ll try the church. But if he calls the cops, we’re gone.”

Navigating the city with Naomi whispering directions was a maddening experience. Jamie wanted to scream at her to shut up, but she couldn’t risk drawing attention. The streets were busy now, commuters hurrying to work, and she kept her head down to avoid drawing notice.

Finally, they reached the church—a weathered building with stained glass windows and a sagging sign that read St. Michael’s Community Center. Jamie hesitated, fear gnawing at her resolve.

“It’s safe,” Naomi insisted. “Just go in.”

Taking a deep breath, Jamie pushed open the door and stepped inside. The air was cool and smelled faintly of incense. A few people knelt in the pews, heads bowed in prayer. At the front, an older man in a worn clerical collar straightened and turned toward her.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice warm and kind. “Can I help you?”

Jamie swallowed hard, trying to find her words. “I... I need help. Someone’s... after me.”

Father Matthias studied her with gentle concern. “Come, sit down. You’re safe here.”

Jamie hesitated, but Naomi urged her forward. As she settled into the front pew, Matthias sat beside her, his hands folded. “You look like you’ve been through something terrible,” he said softly. “Take your time.”

Tears stung Jamie’s eyes, and she struggled to hold them back. “They... they did something to me. Changed me. I’m not... I’m not just me anymore.”

Father Matthias nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving her face. “Who did this to you?”

“Dr. Crowe,” Jamie whispered. “He... he put someone else in my head. Another person. Her name’s Naomi.” Jamie’s chest tightened, and a surge of relief washed over her. “Can you help me?”

Father Matthias looked troubled but determined. “I’ll do what I can. You’re safe here. Rest.”

“Tell him about the phone call,” Naomi prompted.

Jamie hesitated but finally whispered, “I... I called Naomi’s dad. I didn’t know what to say. He’s probably looking for her.”

The priest nodded. “We’ll figure out the right way to handle it. You did what you thought was right.”

For the first time since her escape, Jamie felt a flicker of hope. She leaned back in the pew, exhaustion creeping over her. As her eyes drifted shut, Naomi’s voice softened in her mind.

“We did good,” Naomi whispered. “Maybe we’ll be okay.”

But Jamie knew better than to let her guard down. Crowe wouldn’t stop looking for her—and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep fighting herself. For now, though, she let herself rest, just for a moment, in the sanctuary of the old church.