Page 50 of Of Sinners & Salvation
There’s a long silence, but over the ringing in my ears from all the shots, I hear footsteps inside. We back against the wall under the windows, and for a few minutes, we just wait.
“What now?” I ask, looking to Father Salvatore.
A distant bang reaches us, but it takes way too long for us to realize what it is. Not until we see a figure running toward the main building, hunched against the wind. Angel curses and swings around, but it’s an odd angle and the guy is alreadyfurther away than would be ideal for a pistol. I steady my gun and take aim anyway. I squeeze off a shot, but between the wind and the way the guy is weaving and the distance, I don’t even come close. Dad took us hunting as kids, and I can handle a gun, but I’m nowhere near a sharpshooter, even with a rifle. Guns were never my weapon of choice. I’d rather stab a bitch with my switchblade.
“That’s the doctor,” Mercy says. “I think he lives here alone, but we should be careful going in anyway.”
Angel goes in first, and I cover him. Like Mercy said, no one else is home. We quickly ransack the place, but we don’t find anything useful. It’s just a house, though we do confiscate the laptop.
“Guess we’re going back into the asylum after all,” Saint grumbles, staring out the window toward the back of the hulking building backed by more trees.
Blood pumps through me, my head pounding at the thought of the pandemonium about to ensue. But more than that, I picture Eternity. I’ve imagined her so many times, in every scenario, but new ones materialize in my brain every time I think I’ve exhausted the possibilities. Now I see her pale and vacant like that ghostly figure in the rocking chair, locked in a padded room in a straitjacket. She was way too wild and defiant to make it easy on them.
That will have been to her detriment in a place like this. They probably just killed her, or lobotomized her so she won’t even know me when I come to get her. I imagine opening the door to her cell, imagine her snarling at me with a wild look in her eyes, fear instead of recognition. Four years is a long fucking time. They could have broken her until she doesn’t want to leave, until she thinks I’m there to hurt her instead of rescue her, and she fights me when I try to take her out.
“I’m fucking ready,” I say grimly.
“Let me get in touch with Nathaniel first,” Father Salvatore says. “They’ll be expecting us. We need to know what we’re walking into.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re slipping through the back doors of the building.
“Cutting all power in three… two… one,” Nate says through the speaker on the priest’s phone.
“Let’s move,” Father Salvatore says. “They’ll have the backup generator on standby.”
We race down the hall as the lights blink off, plunging the place into darkness except for the dim grey light seeping through the windows. Alarms start blaring, red lights blinking. They must be on a battery system.
“She’s not on the basement level,” Mercy says. “First floor is offices and cafeteria and common rooms. We need to find the stairs and go up.”
“Wait,” I say, skidding to a stop, my brain having caught up with the words that flashed by a second ago. I backtrack and try the door, finding it locked.
“What are you doing?” Mercy hisses.
“Nate,” I bark, leaning over Father Salvatore’s shoulder. “Can you unlock the doors?”
“Which doors?” Nate asks into his headset, eyes straight ahead toward the screen and fingers flying.
“All of them.”
“Copy that,” he says, like a total nerd.
“Keep going,” I call to the others. “I’ll catch up.”
Father Salvatore orders Saint to stay with me, then continues on with Mercy and Angel. Realizing the door is an old-fashioned lock, I spare a bullet for the knob and duck inside. The room is empty, and Saint uses his phone flashlight to cast around until I find what I need. I lift the old-fashioned microphone and test it. It crackles to life.
“All patients are to evacuate your rooms immediately,” I say into the device, holding the button down. “The doors are unlocked. Repeat, the doors are unlocked. Please evacuate your rooms and make your way to the nearest exit in an orderly manner.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Saint demands when I release the switch drop the mic back into its cradle.
I give him a maniacal grin. “Just having a little fun.”
“You mean creating chaos?” he asks.
“If she’s here, this will bring her out,” I say. “A hell of a lot faster than checking every room in the place. They’ll have the locks reengaged way before we can finish that task.”
Saint gives a grudging nod. “Not too shabby for a heathen.”
We stand there for a second, my face stretched into a grin and his etched with some unreadable expression. Our gazes catch, hold, and my pulse thumps.
