The Dominion Signal

The moment they emerged from the underground passage, Jessica knew they had only moments before their pursuers regrouped. The city stretched before them, cold and unwelcoming under the dim glow of streetlights.

Leanna wiped sweat from her brow. "Where now?"

Olivia pulled out her phone, scanning rapidly. "There’s a hotel nearby. It’s not exactly five-star, but it’ll do."

Jessica glanced over her shoulder, her paranoia spiking. "How bad?"

"Let’s just say it’s the kind of place where people pay by the hour and don’t ask questions," Olivia muttered.

Jessica sighed. "Perfect."

---

The neon sign buzzed dimly above the entrance, its letters flickering like a failing heartbeat. The lobby smelled of stale cigarettes and disinfectant, and the night clerk barely lifted his head from his magazine as they approached. Jessica could see a pair of women in tight dresses leaning against the far wall, their gazes flicking over the new arrivals with mild curiosity.

Leanna kept her voice low. "We’ll need two rooms, minimum."

Jessica shook her head. "One’s fine. We’re safer together."

The clerk slid a key across the counter without a word. They didn’t bother with luggage or formalities. they hurried up the narrow staircase and into the cramped room at the end of the hall. The faded wallpaper peeled in places, and the mattress sagged in the center, but it was shelter.

Jessica collapsed onto the bed, exhaling sharply. "We need a plan."

Leanna locked the door behind them, checking the window. "We lay low until tomorrow. Then we get out of this country."

Olivia sat cross-legged on the floor, already pulling up her laptop. "I grabbed what I could from that data cache. We need to decrypt it."

Jessica nodded, rubbing her temples. "Do it fast. We’re running out of places to hide."

Olivia’s brow furrowed. “There’s something strange in the logs. Multiple versions of the same subject—same genome, different tags. It’s not a record of one test subject.”

Jessica turned. “It’s a record of me.”

“No,” Olivia said, looking up. “It’s a record of them all.”

---

Sleep was out of the question. Olivia worked tirelessly, her fingers tapping against the keys, the glow of the screen casting shadows on her face. Leanna took the first watch, pacing near the window, occasionally peering through the blinds. Jessica sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

She should have been used to this—running, hiding, waiting for the next fight. But something felt different this time. The puzzle pieces weren’t adding up, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being pushed toward something, not chased away.

"You should rest," Leanna murmured.

Jessica shook her head. "I can’t."

Leanna sat beside her, the silence stretching between them. Then, softly, she said, "You’re thinking about what Kovač said, aren’t you? About being seen."

Jessica exhaled sharply. "Yeah. If Vanguard really wanted me dead, they could have done it by now. Instead, they’ve been making sure I’m always one step ahead, like they want me to keep moving."

Leanna frowned. "Or they want you to uncover something."

Jessica’s jaw tightened. "That’s what scares me."

By morning, they were on the move again. Olivia had made contact with a trusted pilot, and by midday, they were on a private plane, leaving Europe behind.

---

The tension didn’t ease when Belize appeared on the horizon. If anything, it deepened—like a storm cloud folding inward instead of breaking open.

From the plane window, the coastline shimmered beneath the humid veil of early evening, green and gold. Too familiar to be trusted. Jessica stared down at it with a hollowness that didn’t belong to jet lag. It belonged to memory. Or maybe the absence of it.

They touched down without incident. The sun burned low, setting the tarmac in amber. She stepped off the plane and inhaled the air, thick with salt, overripe mango and diesel. It should have felt like home. But all it did was confirm a truth she’d been resisting since Prague:

Whatever she was… she’d brought the storm back with her.

At the office, Olivia wordlessly retreated to her room, her shoulders stiff, her laptop already awake beneath her fingers. But before disappearing fully into the dark, she paused in the hallway. “Jess?” she said, barely above a whisper.

Jessica turned halfway, eyes heavy.

“There was another folder in the system,” Olivia murmured. “Encrypted. Labeled ‘Dominion.’ I haven’t cracked it yet.”

Jessica studied her, expression unreadable. “Sounds like another ghost.”

“Or the one pulling the strings,” Olivia said—and then she vanished behind the door, screen glowing like a secret.

Leanna lingered in the kitchen long enough to pour two fingers of whiskey into a cloudy glass. No toast. No ceremony. Just gravity.

Jessica took hers and drifted to the back deck, barefoot, the boards warm beneath her skin. The sea was a bruise bleeding into night. Jazz drifted out from the office—low, unsteady, the kind of trumpet that sounded like someone trying not to cry.

She lowered herself into the chair and stared out toward the darkening horizon. Waves moved like breath. Like forgetting. She searched the shoreline for memory, but all she found was déjà vu wearing a borrowed face

In the glass door, her reflection watched her—tilted slightly, off-center, as though it knew something she didn’t. Same face. Same scars. Same name. But now, that name meant nothing.

Somewhere, in some lab or morgue or freezer drawer, another version of her might still be sleeping. Or waking up. Or dying. The thought didn’t scare her. Not anymore. What scared her was the possibility that she was never supposed to survive at all.

The sliding door creaked behind her. Leanna’s silhouette paused in the doorway.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “One piece at a time.”

Jessica didn’t answer right away. She took a long sip of whiskey. It burned like a memory. Then she set the glass down carefully—like it might break under the weight of her fingerprints. And then, quietly, like she was saying it for the first time: “If I’m not the original… then what am I grieving for?”

No one answered. And somewhere in the stillness between question and sea, Jessica began to disappear. Not all at once. But enough. Enough to fall. Enough to spiral. Enough to lose herself before the next chapter began.