Chapter 4 - The Escape
The air inside Room 12 was thick with tension. The only light came from the dull orange glow of the emergency wall pack, throwing Caleb’s massive silhouette against the wall like a specter.
He was already off the bed. His heavy winter coat was zipped up, and the small military oxygen inhaler was secured to his belt, the thin plastic cannula running up to his nose under his collar. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes were sharp.
"Let's go," Lily whispered, knowing he couldn't hear her, but needing the comfort of the words.
She didn't sign. She simply grabbed his arm and led him out into the dimly lit hallway.
The nursing station was a scene of utter chaos. Trevor was screaming into a dead phone line, while Mara was trying to manually check the vitals of a patient in Room 10. Dr. Concincaid was standing near the main exit, his face white as he realized the telemetry data for the entire wing had vanished.
"Parker!" Concincaid’s voice boomed through the gloom as he saw her shadow moving toward the service doors. "Where are you going with Ror? He needs to be in bed!"
Lily didn't answer. She kept her head down, her hand gripping Caleb's elbow as they pushed through the double swinging doors that led to the service elevator.
"Stop them!" Concincaid shouted, his footsteps echoing on the tile as he began to run after them. "Trevor, get the guards!"
Lily slammed her weight against the service elevator call button. The indicator light was dead—the elevator was on the emergency generator circuit and would take at least forty seconds to reset.
"We don't have forty seconds," Lily muttered, her eyes darting to the heavy steel door of the exit stairwell next to the shaft.
She pushed the door open and pulled Caleb inside. The stairwell was cold, smelling of damp concrete and rust. The emergency lights here were dimmer, casting a weak, greenish hue over the metal steps.
Down, she signed to Caleb, pointing to the darkness below.
They began to descend, their footsteps echoing loudly in the enclosed space. From above, the heavy sound of the stairwell door slamming open cut through the silence.
"Parker!" Trevor’s voice screamed from the landing above. "You’re committing a federal offense! If you take him out of this building, you’re going to prison!"
Lily didn't look back. She kept her hand on the cold iron handrail, counting the landings.
Floor 1... Basement.
Caleb was starting to lean heavily on her shoulder. His chest was heaving, the small oxygen cylinder hissing as it delivered the last of its reserve. His skin was turning that ghostly, dangerous gray once more. He was running out of time, and so was she.
They reached the basement level. Lily threw her weight against the heavy push-bar of the exit door. It opened into the vast, concrete cavern of the hospital's laundry and maintenance facility. Long rows of industrial washing machines stood silent in the gloom, their massive chrome cylinders reflecting the green emergency lights.
"This way," Lily signed, pointing toward the loading dock doors at the far end of the room.
But before they could take ten steps, the heavy double doors of the freight elevator at the side of the room slid open with a loud, mechanical groan.
Two men in dark, unmarked security uniforms stepped out. They weren't the elderly guards who patrolled the lobby. These men were young, built like tactical operators, and they carried black polymer batons and sidearms.
"Secure the perimeter," one of them said into a throat mic. "We have the target on the basement level."
Lily pulled Caleb behind a massive industrial dryer, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
They were cut off. The loading dock was fifty yards away, across an open concrete floor with no cover. The stairs behind them were blocked by Trevor and Concincaid.
Caleb looked at her, his breathing shallow and rattling. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper—the Karachi manifest. He pressed it into her hand, his fingers moving in one final, desperate sequence.
Run. You can make the dock. They don't know who you are. Let them take me.
Lily stared at the paper in her hand. The ghost of the "Sparrow" rose up inside her, cold and lethal. She had spent four years trying to forget the skills she had been taught, trying to pretend she was just a normal girl who cared about charts and blood pressure.
But looking at the bruised, dying hero beside her, she realized some things were worth fighting for.
May you like
She tucked the paper into her scrubs.
"No," she signed back, her hands rock-steady. "We both walk out of here."
