Chapter 13: The Transit Hub
The county transit hub was a concrete-and-glass terminal filled with the low murmur of tired travelers, the hiss of idling diesel buses, and the rhythmic crackle of the overhead loudspeaker announcing departures for the state capital. It was loud, crowded, and utterly chaotic—the perfect place to disappear among ordinary people who were too exhausted to notice a man in a dirt-stained black shirt and a young girl in a pink patterned dress.
We ducked into a row of grey plastic waiting chairs near the back of the terminal, shielded from the main entrance by a towering bank of luggage lockers. My heart was still hammering against my ribs, but the immediate threat of pursuit had faded into the background noise of the station.
The girl slipped the white bunny backpack off her shoulders and set it carefully on her lap. Her fingers worked the zipper with practiced ease, sliding the fabric open to reveal the small micro-SD memory card resting against the soft lining. She picked it up delicately between two fingers and handed it to me without a word.
"You kept this safe," I said softly, turning the tiny piece of plastic over in my palm.
On that card lay the unfiltered digital proof of what the foundation was hiding behind its polished marble floors and arched windows—the illegal trials, the unauthorized memory-wiping protocols, and the names of the men in black suits who enforced them. Running and hiding would only buy us a few days; sooner or later, their network would sweep the state clean. The only way to end this was to take the evidence directly to the public networks before they could intercept us.
I looked up toward the central departures board, watching the destination cities flicker in amber letters across the dark glass. A bus for the capital was boarding at Gate Four in ten minutes.
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"We're going to the city," I said, my voice steady and resolute as I pocketed the memory card. "We're going to finish this."
The girl nodded slowly, pulling the zipper of her backpack shut and sliding her arms back through the straps. She stood up beside me without a single complaint, her small hand slipping naturally into mine. We turned away from the lockers and melted into the crowd heading toward the boarding gates, ready to take the fight straight back to the foundation's front door.
