Page 48 of The Flame

No one stepped out into the corridor, and I was at Ward X.

I sucked in a deep, steadying breath. Hesitating out here in the corridor held its own danger. That was the push I needed. I firmed my grip on the gun, but lowered my arm and moved my hand slightly behind my back.

Then I swiped my card and swung through the door with a breezy smile.

The nurse on duty was a stranger to me. He glanced up from where he perched behind the desk, curious at first, a half-formed smile on his bearded face, but that faded as I hurried across to him.

“Hi, I wonder if you can help me.”

“Um…” He didn’t know if I should be here. The rules were ever-changing and fuzzy since the Sisterhood had taken over. “Visitors aren’t allowed back here. How did you get in?”

“I’m not a visitor,” I said pleasantly, flashing him my security card. “I’m a volunteer. I’ve been working the day shift until now.”

He scratched at his beard, his hand inching toward the intercom. He wasn’t being sneaky, I didn’t think. He was still deciding.

“Here, take a closer look.” I leaned over the counter to shove my card in his face and brought my other hand up—slowly, steady—and before I could over-think it, before his brain caught up to what his eyes were seeing, I aimed the gun at the side of his neck and pulled the trigger.

He didn’t scream. I hadn’t even thought about that possibility until this very moment. But he didn’t scream.

He squeaked and slapped a hand to his neck, to the spot where the dart had gone in. His eyes rounded, then rolled back in their sockets until only the white was visible, and then he dropped, crumpled off his perch and to the floor with a horribly loud thud. Thank goodness there was only one night nurse on this ward, and each ward was isolated behind thick walls.

I glanced at my watch.

Just gone seven.

I scrambled around the counter, my pulse racing, and gasped when I saw the awkward position he’d fallen into behind the cramped station—half sprawled, half shoved up against the wall, his neck angled. He hadn’t broken it— No! I knelt before him and pressed two fingers to his throat, held my breath and stilled my mind…his pulse was slow, but strong.

I released that breath and sprang into action, patting down the pockets of his scrubs, then lifting his top and there it was, a ring hooked to the loops of his pants with a variety of keys. My fingers had developed tremors, and it took longer than it should have to work the key ring free from his pants.

I checked my watch.

How had that happened? Six minutes until Roman’s deadline.

I jumped up, the gun in one hand, my access card in the other with the keys. Another swipe took me through the door to the patient cubicles. There was no time to think or worry, only time to move. I’d taken a quick look after leaving Daniel earlier. I knew which rooms I needed to clear.

I bypassed the older man—team Otter—and went straight to Daniel. He knew to expect me, but he still looked slightly dumbfounded when I barged into his room.

I grinned. “What? You didn’t think I’d show?”

“I was expecting you to drop through the ceiling or come crawling in through the vent,” he drawled. “I did not expect you to waltz in through the front door.”

While he spoke, I tucked the gun into my back pocket and hurried to his side, where I worked my way through the keys. The third attempt unlocked his cuff—after a struggle. My hands were shaky, my fingers awkwardly handling the tiny silver key. It was also the only one of its kind. It had to be one key for all the cuffs.

I moved to the other side of the cot. “You sound much more alert than earlier. Did they not drug you again?”

“I didn’t swallow,” he said. “I held the pill under my tongue and spat it out once the nurse was gone.”

“Good thinking.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.”

I fit the key, turned, and snapped the other cuff off.

Daniel flung his legs over the rails of the cot. That’s when I noticed/remembered his sock-clad feet.

“Where are your shoes?”

He gave me a blank look.

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