Page 4 of Burn Like An Angel

With a trembling hand, I hold onto his hospital gown, attempting to steer him in a straight line. It’s a challenge aswe trip and stumble towards the manor, dodging the mayhem unfolding all around us. It’s spilling in from all directions.

“Careful,” Xander calls out. “Body up ahead.”

“Body?” Raine exclaims.

“A guard, I think. Dead or unconscious. I don’t know which.”

“What the fuck?”

“Be glad you can’t see what’s going on around us,” Xander mutters.

Tightening my grip on his gown, I peer through the haze. “Keep going, Raine. I’ll steer you.”

Floodlights illuminate the nighttime air, and honestly, I wish they’d just plunge us into full darkness at this point. Then I wouldn’t have to see the anarchy we’ve escaped into. We swapped one hell for another.

After months of malpractice and blatant abuse, the patient population of Harrowdean Manor has declared war. We escaped Professor Craven’s sadistic Z wing, fleeing torture and imprisonment only to stumble out into a full-blown riot.

All around us, the madness is spreading like an airborne infection. Patients have turned into wild, almost rabid animals, attacking at will and destroying anything they can lay their hands on.

“Round them all up!” Rick’s voice echoes in the distance. “I want every guard cuffed and gagged.”

There’s a chorus of agreements and various sounds of enthusiasm from the patients choosing to follow him. Most have descended into violence. Some fight, exchanging blows, while others begin smashing whatever they lay eyes on.

Those who’ve flocked to Rick’s call are banding together to capture the remaining guards. Contrastingly, the rest of the patients are cowering or running. Sides have already formed amongst the anarchy.

The organised few—Rick, Rae, Patient Three and her fellow escapee—are doling out instructions as they assume control. They seem to be operating under the delusion that we can pull this pseudo-heist off. Really, it’s only a matter of time before the authorities march in here.

Then all our heads will be on the chopping block. I may have decided not to run, but we at least need to give ourselves a fighting chance of staying alive. That starts with getting Lennox help before he deteriorates.

“Ripley?” Lennox moans in pain.

He’s unable to lift his head, the way my name slips off his tongue like a sorrowful prayer sending shivers down my spine.

“She’s here, man,” Raine mumbles back.

“Can’t… go… farther.”

“Like hell you can’t,” Xander spits.

“Xan,” Lennox gasps. “Stop.”

“We’re getting you somewhere safe.” Xander’s usually curt voice carries a disturbing, almost high-pitched edge of apprehension.

Xander is… scared?

No. That can’t be right.

“Just leave me,” Lennox tries to plead.

“Not this crap again,” I cut in. “We’re not leaving you, Nox.”

I don’t miss the curious side eye Xander gives me, a single, midnight-blue orb slicing deep into my skin. It wasn’t so long ago when I would’ve happily left Lennox to be trampled to death in a riot given half a chance.

Now the world has been swept away by a violent tsunami, and we’re left to pick over the destruction to find our lives once more. Everything I thought I knew about Lennox, Harrowdean, even myself—it’s all gone.

“What?” I snap at Xander.

“Nothing.”

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