Page 29 of Shadows of Recovery

Sophie's breath caught in her throat as the horrifying scene unfolded before her. Blood and brain matter spattered everywhere, painting the walls, the floor, and even her face. The warm droplets clung to her skin, mixing with the cold, silent tears that streamed down her cheeks. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, and her vision blurred as reality crashed in around her. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, followed by a choked sob as the gruesome image burned itself into her mind.

She didn’t need to check if he was alive—she knew. The finality of it, the brutal, sickening violence overwhelmed her senses. The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. She cradled her head in her hands, trying desperately to block out the horror. But the image replayed over and over in her mind, each replay more vivid, more terrifying than the last. Panic seized her, a wild, uncontrollable force that threatened to tear her apart from the inside.

Her body shook violently, racked by the shock and the raw, unfiltered terror coursing through her veins. She wanted to scream, to run, to erase the nightmare that had become her reality, but all she could do was lie there, frozen in place, drowning in the horror that had unfolded before her eyes.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air, a stark contrast to the suffocating quiet that followed the deafening bang. Damon smiled, a cruel twist of his lips that spoke of satisfaction rather than remorse.

Screams echoed through the ER. Her screams. Damon was just the tip of the iceberg—the entire hospital was being taken over by a group of heavily armed men.

Alarms began to sound at the gunshot and explosion. A recording blared over the hospital’s speakers, “Lockdown. Lockdown. Lockdown.”

"Alright, listen up. I have a few demands. I want all the drugs from the hospital and safe passage out of here," Damon snickered.

"The police will never agree to that. You’re not going to get away with this," a young resident, Dr. Daniel Reynolds, said.

"Oh, I will. Because if I don’t get what I want, people will start dying. Starting with you." He fired a shot into the doctor’s shoulder.

Sophie pushed up from the floor, wanting to help. Damon pistol-whipped her, striking her in the side of the head. She collapsed, her head bouncing against the floor.

The world spun violently around her, colors and shapes merging into a nauseating swirl. Her stomach churned, bile rising in her throat as the nausea hit her full force, but she fought to keep conscious, clinging to the edges of awareness with whatever strength she had left.

Her vision flickered, the edges darkening, but she forced herself to stay awake, to stay present. The room seemed to tilt and sway, a sickening motion that only intensified her nausea, but she refused to let herself black out.

She could barely make sense of what was happening, her mind struggling to piece together reality from the scattered, fractured images. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to stay conscious, had to fight through the fog, even as the throbbing in her head threatened to pull her under. She lay there and watched. It was all she could do.

The hospital’s ER became the central hub of the takeover. Staff, visitors and patients were herded into the waiting area, their hands bound with medical tape. Damon stood on a table, addressing his captive audience with a chilling smile. "Welcome to the new order. The Eldon Sect is here to bring justice and power to those who deserve it. Follow my commands, and you might just survive."

With Trace Whitlock’s admission, the rumor mill had gone into overdrive. She learned his followers, dressing in plain, utilitarian clothing, reflected their leader’s austere philosophy. The Eldon Sect believed in strict discipline, unquestioning loyalty, and the supremacy of their leader’s will. Damon, as one of the six sons, spoke as the law in his father’s absence. Dissent was met with swift, brutal retribution.

A sect member turned to Dr. Reynolds, who was bleeding heavily from his gunshot wound."You will follow Damon’s orders without question. Failure to comply will have severe consequences."

“Please, Damon, let me help him,” Sophie begged.

Damon yanked her to her knees. “If you crawl to him, you can help him.”

Sophie complied. The young doctor’s life took priority over demanding more. She did what she was allowed.

On her knees, she grabbed some supplies from a crash cart. As she worked to stop the bleeding and bandage the wound, Reynolds looked up nervously, asking Damon, "What do you want from us?"

"Simple. Total obedience." Damon grinned.

Eleven

Brad Killian, the assistant district commander for field operations of the South Dakota Highway Patrol Bureau, was reviewing the morning's reports in his office in Pierre when his phone buzzed against the desk. The screen lit up with the name Chief Gerald Dawson of the Waverly County Police Department. Brad's instincts kicked in—calls from Chief Dawson rarely brought good news.

"Killian," he answered, sounding steady and authoritative.

"Brad, we have a situation," Dawson's voice crackled through the phone, filled with worry. "The Eldon Sect has taken over Waverly County Hospital."

Brad's heart skipped a beat. The Eldon Sect was notorious for their extremist views and violent methods. "What do we know?" he demanded, already mentally mobilizing his rapid response team.

"We've sealed off the hospital. Shots have been fired," Dawson reported. "According to witnesses who escaped, a female doctor is being dragged by her hair and used as a shield. We don’t know if anyone has been seriously injured yet, but there are multiple hostages. The hospital was at patient capacity."

A cold dread settled in Brad’s stomach. "How many hostages are we talking about?" His mind raced through protocols and strategies.

"At least a hundred, but it’s hard to get an exact count with visitors included," Dawson replied. "We're still trying to establish contact with the hostage-takers."

Brad did a quick internet search as he spoke to the chief. The hospital had 147 staffed beds. That told him at least twenty-five nurses, ancillary staff and visitors took it over 200 hostages.

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