Page 1 of Every Last One
ONE
9:50 AM
Founders Hospital
Washington, DC
Gail squeezed her daughter’s hand tightly while looking at her. The girl’s eyes were shut, and wires and tubes overwhelmed her small, fragile body. Sensors on her chest fed to a monitor and captured her heart rate. Gail watched her daughter’s life force as the line dipped up and down in a somewhat erratic pattern. If she stared at it too long, her own heart would tick up speed and her mind spin with thoughts. All of them were propelled from a place of fear and uncertainty. But she couldn’t afford to give in to them. The heart transplant had to work. It just had to. Without the operation, she would die. Two extreme swings of the cosmic pendulum.
Though as much as Gail tried to keep positive, it didn’t stop the doubts of the unknown from slinking in. Her daughter’s fate was in the hands of the surgeon, and Gail had to accept that fact or go mad. It wasn’t like she had the skill to carry off the operation herself.
Gail pinched her eyes shut, and images of her daughter’s smile flooded her vision. The sound of her laughter filled her ears. All of it snatches from brief pockets of time. Memories. But there would be more like them. There just had to be.
But where was Dr. Cowan? They were just over thirteen hours out from surgery, and she said she’d drop by that morning to check on Phoebe.
Gail glanced at her daughter, hesitant to leave.Afraidto leave her in such a fragile state. But she had to find out what was going on.
“Mommy will be right back.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and left the room.
There was a lot of traffic in the hallway. The soles of running shoes from rushing nurses and doctors squeaked on the linoleum as they moved past. Phoebe’s room wasn’t far from the nurses’ station, but this level of chaos was unusual.
Gail spotted Nurse Torres talking to a colleague. Torres had been by their side in the past few weeks since Phoebe was admitted, awaiting her donor.
“Are you for real right now?” Nurse Torres asked.
“I’m being serious. There’s a situation.” The other nurse looked at Gail over Torres’s shoulder.
“Excuse me, Nurse Torres,” Gail said.
The nurse turned to her with a face stricken with fear. “Ms. Chapman, you need to return to your daughter’s room, lower the blinds, and lock the door.”
“I was just looking for Dr. Cowan. She said she’d come by to see Phoebe.”
Nurse Torres laid a hand on her forearm, looked her squarely in the eye when she spoke. “Please, for your safety, and that of your daughter, do as I say.”
Her words sent shivers down her spine, chilling her right through. “What’s going on?”
“There’s no time to explain. Please. Go.” Nurse Torres took her upper arm and guided her back to the room.
“I don’t understand. What’s?—”
Two nurses scurried past, talking to each other, not mindful of their volume. “I heard there are gunmen in the hospital.”
“Complete lockdown,” the other said.
Next thing, a coded announcement came over the speakers. Then the main lights went dark, and emergency lights came on.
A surge of panic rolled up Gail’s chest into her throat. “Phoebe.” She jogged toward the room, and the nurse kept pace next to her.
Nurse Torres shut the door and locked it behind them.
“Mommy?”
Phoebe’s tiny voice had Gail running to her daughter’s side. “It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.” This couldn’t be happening. Everything had to turn out all right. Phoebe was getting her new heart today, and the surgery was going to go smoothly. There had to be some mistake.
But the nurse was hustling, grabbing at the strings for the window blinds. Each set clattered down as she made her way along the wall and to the door. She completely blocked out the view to the corridor, and with only the dim emergency lighting, the room was dusky like twilight. It felt suffocating, and Gail went to open the vertical blinds on the outside window.
“No.” Nurse Torres thrust out a hand to accompany her directive. “It will lighten up the room and draw attention to us. Emergency protocol states locked doors, lights off, and we’re to stay quiet and out of sight.”
