Page 33 of Shadows of Recovery

The group nodded, their faces set with determination. Brad picked up the phone again, dialing the emergency room number.

It rang once, twice, then a voice answered, "This is Damon."

"Damon, it’s Brad Killian. Let’s talk," Brad said, his voice steady. "What do you need to resolve this peacefully?"

As Damon began to speak, Brad listened carefully—every word, every nuance a potential clue to defusing the crisis. He figured they were in for a long, difficult standoff.

Twelve

Sophie’s world had become a never-ending nightmare, and every step she took with Damon Whitlock felt like a descent into hell. He dragged her down the hospital corridors, his grip ironclad around her ponytail. Two of his men flanked them, their eyes as cold and hard as his.

The destination was the pharmacy, a secured area now perverted into another arena of terror. As they approached the gated area, the sweet pharmacist, Gene Moynihan, looked up and smiled warmly at Sophie. "Dr. Blackwell’s new rules mean I don’t get to see you as much anymore," he said, his voice full of genuine affection.

Despite the situation, Sophie felt a brief flicker of warmth and familiarity. She couldn’t help but smile in return. It was a mistake.

Damon noticed the exchange, and his face twisted in rage. Without a moment’s hesitation, he lifted the gun that was pressed into Sophie’s back and fired. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the corridor, and Gene’s head snapped back as the bullet tore through his skull. Blood and brain matter splattered across Sophie, the warm spray hitting her face and clothes.

“No!” Sophie screamed, the horror of the moment overwhelming her. She surged forward, instinctively trying to reach Gene or to run—she didn’t know which. Her mind was a blur of shock and grief.

Damon’s grip tightened, his anger now a palpable force. He yanked her back with brutal strength and slammed her head into the metal gate of the pharmacy. Pain exploded in Sophie’s skull, her vision going dark around the edges. Her legs buckled, her body no longer able to support her.

"Don’t get any ideas," Damon snarled, his voice a vicious hiss in her ear. "You’re mine. Don’t forget that."

Sophie’s world swam in and out of focus. She tried to stay conscious, to fight against the encroaching darkness, but it was too strong. The last thing she saw was Damon’s cold, emotionless eyes before her vision blacked out completely.

* * *

Brad stoodat the command center, every nerve on edge. The news from inside the hospital was growing direr by the minute. He had been coordinating with Ethan, the police chief, Charlotte, and the rest of the team, trying to find any leverage, any way to bring this nightmare to an end. The phone rang, breaking his train of thought. It was Damon.

"Brad," Damon’s voice was taunting, "I’ve just eliminated another obstacle. Your sweet pharmacist is no more. And your precious doctor? She’s learning her place."

Brad’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone. His voice remained calm, steady, and unwavering, a deliberate contrast to Damon’s. "Damon, listen to me. What you’ve done doesn’t change the outcome. The more harm you cause, the less room you leave for yourself. But it’s not too late to turn this around. No one else needs to get hurt. We can still work this out, find a way for you to walk out of here alive. Let’s talk about what you really want, Damon. We’re here to listen, but the violence has to stop."

Damon laughed, a sound devoid of any humanity. "No, Brad. I’m in control here. And you’ll play by my rules if you want to see any of these people alive."

Brad took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "What do you want, Damon? Let’s talk."

Damon’s tone shifted, becoming more sinister. "I want you to pull back. Give us a clear path out of here, and maybe—just maybe, I’ll let some of these people live."

"We can’t let you walk away," Brad said, trying to keep Damon engaged. "But we can negotiate terms for a safe surrender. No one else needs to die."

"Negotiate?" Damon scoffed. "You’re in no position to negotiate, Brad. I’ll call you when I’m ready to give my next instruction."

The line went dead, and a wave of frustration and helplessness washed over him. Brad turned to Alex, who had been listening in. "We need to find a way to get inside without triggering him. He’s beyond reasoning."

Alex nodded, his expression grim. "We’re running out of time. If Damon keeps escalating, there won’t be anyone left to save."

Charlotte approached them, her face etched with worry and determination. "If he’s beyond reasoning, you may need to breach. We can’t let Sophie or anyone else become another victim."

Brad looked up at them. “I’m trying to bide some time. The National Guard is en route with a field hospital. And I’m waiting for another contingent from Stanley and Sully. To take the hospital, it has to be fast. Plus, I need to hear from Ethan’s team and Indian Affairs.”

* * *

Sophie regained consciousness slowly,the pain in her head throbbing with every heartbeat. Her vision blurred as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The metallic taste of blood lingered in her mouth, and her body felt like it had been through a grinder. Before she could gather her thoughts, rough hands lifted her, and Damon dragged her like a ragdoll.

She saw the lifeless body of Gene Moynihan being pulled by Damon’s men, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. The horror of his death was a vivid memory, and the sight of his body made her stomach churn. Damon’s grip on her was a vise, and she could barely keep her feet under her as he moved with determined strides toward the front of the hospital.

Damon and his men reached the front door. With a cruel smirk, he gestured for his men to toss Gene’s body outside. The corpse landed heavily on the pavement, a gruesome reminder of the escalating violence. Damon tightened his grip on Sophie, holding her up like a puppet. Her eyes swam, her head still spinning from the earlier blow.

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