Finally, Cooper and Park reached the large double bay doors at the end of the hall. It was eerily silent. Cooper looked at Park and realized the ring was still hanging out. He tucked it safely inside Park’s shirt, letting his palm rest over it for a moment. Feeling the steady, sure beat of his heart. Then he nodded to show he was ready.

“On the count of three,” Park murmured. “One, two—”

They burst through the double doors, quickly scanning the room. It too was dark, lit only by the sporadic glow of a computer monitor’s screensaver across the space. This was the medical bay, all right. The ammonia smelled stronger in here, and even Cooper’s eyes were watering. The hum of the samples fridge and buzz of the fluorescent lights made the room feel claustrophobic, though it was actually quite large and had several closed doors leading to the lab, containment area, and front of the building.

There was a large metal table in the center of the room with a figure lying on it, covered in a light blue sheet. Unmoving.

Park made a pained sound.

Eli. Please, no...

Park seemed frozen, staring at the figure on the table. So Cooper walked forward, took a deep breath, and pulled back the sheet.

He gasped and stumbled back, knocking the body’s arm slightly as he recoiled. It fell and hung limply over the edge of the table.

Neil Gerhart lay on his side, dressed in a very sleek tuxedo, violet lips slack, eyes staring straight at Cooper, filmed over and dry and long dead.

On the other side of the room, another set of doors opened, and Eli stepped into the room.

“Eli, what—what the hell is going on?” Park asked.

“I’m sorry,” Eli said. His voice cracked. “Just don’t shift, don’t shift, don’t—”

The sprinklers turned on over their heads, and Cooper jumped as frigid water hit the top of his head and started dripping down his face and neck. He blinked and swiped hurriedly at it, trying to keep his sight clear, and looked at Park, who was doing the same.

But no matter how many times he wiped away water, his vision kept getting blurrier. It was like he was wearing glasses, straining to see through the gathering fog.

Cooper took a step forward, wanting to be nearer Park, and his knee bent dramatically, sinking toward the floor, like stepping into quicksand. How was there quicksand in here?

“Don’t shift, don’t shift—” Eli’s voice was yelling. At least Cooper thought it was Eli. It sounded strange. Just like...a bunch of noises mashed together. Which is what all words were, Cooper realized. Just...noises that sound different than they look.