Page 162 of Girl Between
Dana’s vision was spotting as he continued to squeeze the life out of her, but her mind was suddenly clear. She forced a calmness into her limbs, willing herself to find what she sought. Hands by her sides, her fingers grasped and clawed at Monroe’s pants until … There! She found it. Right where he’d left it. Her final hope.
Swift as an adder, her hand was in his pocket. Dana didn’t hesitate. She clutched the slender shard of bone and arced it backward with all the strength she had left.
She didn’t stop to see the damage. She knew Marjorie’s necklace had hit its mark from Monroe’s bloodcurdling scream.
The last thing Dana saw before she made it back into the hall was Monroe buckling to his knees, clutching his eye.
Dark hallways and doors blurred by as Dana sprinted away from her attacker. She swore she saw another frail woman strapped to a hospital bed but she didn’t dare stop. She was on a mission to make it back to Amelia’s room or die trying.
Finally, she saw signs she was on the right path. She rushed through the horrifying hospital ward, then to Amelia’s floor. Seconds later she was inside the girl’s room.
Stumbling across the threshold, Dana managed to slam the door shut, turning the lock clumsily, hands slick with blood, hers or Monroe’s she couldn’t be sure.
Panting, she sucked in air trying to catch her breath. She could hear Monroe. He wasn’t far behind, but panic would only make her fumble more. Crashing to her knees next to the plastic bin of medical tools, she dug blindly. She had one last chance to make a stand. And she was going to use it.
“Hello! Who’s there? What’s happening?”
Digging through the box, Dana ignored Amelia’s hysterical questions. Finding what she was looking for, she raced to the window and went to work.
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Jake blinked his eyes rapidly,not believing them at first. But there was no denying what he saw. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, his chest swelling with hope and admiration as he pointed up. “Look.”
George followed Jake’s gaze and gaped in astonishment. “Is that what I think it is?”
They both stared in amazement at the flashing light coming from the 19thstory window.
Jake’s memory transported him back to a conversation he’d had with Dana less than 24 hours ago.
“I lovethe feel of grass beneath my toes.”
“A little different than musty library carpet, huh?”
“I wasn’t always a librarian,” she countered. “I grew up in West Virginia”.
Jake had pictured it then—a young Dana Gray, wind ruffling her untamed hair as she explored the wild like all kids should.
“What was that like?”
“Fun, adventurous. My dad used to take me camping.”A wistful look passed across her face. “We had a red tent.”
“What else?”
“I remember this one time it stormed. I was scared, but he told me we’d be okay as long as we had a flashlight. He taught me Morse code. I was so intrigued I forgot all about the storm.”
“Smart man, your dad.”
“Yeah,” Dana agreed, that same reflective joy in her eyes. “He was.”
“Morse code has saved my ass a time or two.”
“In the Army?”
“Yeah.”
“And you still remember it?”
“Do you?”
