Page 109 of Left Behind

Once she had blocked the door, Linette moved back to stand beside Crystal. She’d already come to terms again with the possibility of dying, and it made her sad. But she knew her role in this chaos, and if the shooter came into this room, he would have to go through her to get to the child.

She glanced down at the little girl again and could tell her pain meds were still making her sleepy. “Just relax, sweetheart. Close your eyes and rest. I’m here with you.”

***

Wiley knew Linette worked on the third floor, but he had no idea which room she’d taken shelter in. It took everything in him not to storm up the stairs and go find her, but he couldn’t. They had to clear floors in order, going one hospital room at a time before moving up to the next level.

They had officers on guard at every stairwell and at every elevator, on the off chance that the shooter slipped past the searchers and tried to escape the building. It was a tedious and tension-filled search. They’d heard no more gunshots. And there was no one talking anywhere. The officers were communicating with hand signs as they cleared the first floor, and then the second.

They were back in the stairwell on their way to the third floor when Doug Leedy caught a glimpse of movement above him and saw the backside of a man in a black T-shirt and cap dart into an exit door onto the third floor. But it was the long gray ponytail that solidified the ID.

“He’s on the third floor!” Doug shouted, and immediately radioed the message on the emergency channel so the other searchers in the building could converge.

Wiley leaped past two other cops on the stairwell, hit the latch on the exit door, and flew into the hall. He caught a glimpse of the man running down the hall on the left, and took the right junction instead and started running parallel, while following the sound of the man’s footsteps.

***

Gene Terry knew the cops were coming. He’d heard them in the stairwell. He’d already knew he would be going back to prison if they caught him, but he’d made his peace with dying. He just had payback on his mind. He’d already taken out the security guard and ambulance driver who’d ratted him out to the cops, and the only one left standing was an RN on the third floor. He’d put a bullet in her head, then one in his own, and be done with it.

The moment he exited onto the floor and heard nothing and saw no one, he headed for the nurses’ station. He saw the corner of the desk from twenty yards away and increased his speed, but as he took the turn, he realized the desk was empty.

“Connie Parsons! Where the hell are you? Come out now or I’m gonna start shooting at everyone!” he roared, then aimed his gun at the first door in front of him and fired, and then kept firing at every door as he ran.

He turned the corner at the nurses’ station on the run, still shooting at doors, and didn’t know there was a cop coming down the hall behind him until he was tackled from behind. He went down hard, hitting his chin on the floor and biting his tongue in the process. His gun went flying, and he was struggling to breathe when someone grabbed his wrist, yanked his arm behind his back, and pushed it so far up he could feel his own hair.

The cold snap of steel around his wrists was shocking, and he began trying to resist with his free arm until the yank on his cuffed wrist was so sudden and hard it made him scream.

Then there was a voice in his ear, speaking with a calm that made him shudder.

“You move like that again, and I’ll yank that arm off your shoulder.”

The pain was still rolling up Gene’s back and neck when the man twisted his other arm behind his back and cuffed it, too.

At that point, Gene began banging his head against the floor, screaming in frustration, and then began seeing the boots and legs of a dozen uniformed officers and realized he was surrounded. And again, he heard that voice, deep and sarcastic this time.

“Normally, boys, you’d pay money for the sideshow freak, but this one is giving you a performance for free. It’s called, ‘How long will it take for the asshole to knock himself out?’”

Three officers yanked Terry up from the floor. Blood was pouring from his forehead, his nose, and his chin. He spit blood on the floor and then looked up into the face of the cop who’d run him down, and thought, No wonder I couldn’t breathe. He’s a fucking giant. And then he blinked and saw another cop approaching and thought he was seeing double, until he realized there were two of them.

Unaware Aaron was coming up behind him, Wiley stared until Terry was the first to look away.

Aaron radioed an all clear, and moments later, the hospital relayed the all clear through their intercom.

But all clear meant nothing to Wiley until he heard Linette’s voice. He was on the phone, listening to it ring, but it wasn’t until he heard Linette’s voice that he breathed easy again.

“Wiley?”

“It’s over, honey. Shooter’s down. What room are you in?”

“Three thirty-four.”

He looked around and then shuddered. One door away from where he stopped the shooter. That door would have been next.

“I’m coming in,” he said, and pushed past the crowd to get to her.

Linette was already dragging the bed away from the doorway when he came inside. He took one look at her face and wrapped his arms around her.

She was trembling but silent, and she was afraid to turn him loose for fear her legs would go out from under her.

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