"Yun Sheng," the man's voice was deep, a standard English pronunciation, "Quick, call for her to save you."
Zhou Xufang clenched both hands tightly.
"Call out."
"Call out now!"
Metal chains rattled chaotically, accompanied by the alarm of medical equipment.
These sounds were all too familiar to Zhou Xufang; she had been treated the same way. Handcuffed to the hospital bed, a man in a white coat holding a syringe, slowly pushed the drug into her carotid artery as she convulsed on the bed, and the alarm screamed crazily beside her.
"Xu, Fang,"
A weak voice came from the cellphone outside, not crying for help, but barely breathing, saying, "Run..."
"Xu Fang, run fast..."
Eight years ago, they had escaped together from the laboratory; he had said the same thing: run fast.
But why didn't he run? Knowing that he shouldn't go to Pullman, he still went, as her substitute.
Zhou Xufang unclenched her fists and opened the door—
