"Don't move." The voice came from his left.
Bobby shifted his eyes, and the movement triggered another wave of dizziness. Dean's face appeared at the edge of his vision, filled with exhaustion and worry. His chin was covered in stubble, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"You were unconscious for a day," Dean said quietly. "A concussion, a skull fracture, and... that thing coated the bullets with some kind of neurotoxin. The doctor said it was a miracle you survived."
Bobby opened his mouth, but his throat was as dry as a desert.
Sam handed him a glass of water and brought the straw to his lips. Bobby took a few sips. The icy water ran down his throat, easing the dryness slightly. He tried to speak, his voice hoarse and broken. "The files... did you see them?"
"We did." Dean picked up a tablet from beside the bed. Its screen lit up, displaying a directory of encrypted files. "The stuff you nearly died bringing back. Lohr already had the tech department analyzing it."
Bobby closed his eyes, and fragments of memory surged back.
A day earlier, after clearing the floor he was on, he had received a new message from Internet Addiction and headed to the third basement level of New Era Biotechnology's headquarters.
He had been wearing a janitor's uniform, pushing a garbage cart down the corridor.
The surveillance cameras had been interfered with in advance, he had memorized the guards' patrol schedule by heart, and everything had gone smoothly—until he opened the door marked "R&D Department."
There was no experimental equipment in the room, only rows of shelves filled with glass jars.
Every jar contained human organs soaking in liquid. Some were whole, some had been sliced apart, and all of them had an unnatural pale-yellow color.
On