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“They’ll fire my ass,” the orderly says, panicked.
Emma insists, “I’ll tell them I ordered you to get the file they needed from my car. Go, or you’ll be quarantined for weeks.”
“Fuck it. Thanks, Kara. I owe you.”
“Just be safe,” she says quietly as the man runs away.
I open my eyes and look at her.
“Okay, this is it. I know you know all this, but with the drugs still in your system, I’m going to run over everything quickly, just in case. That announcement means stay in your room. It’s a soft lockdown until the next alarm blares. One shrill ring gives the all-clear. Three means to move to the panic rooms, but most people will be doing that already as a precaution. The clinic itself is one big panic room. It’s designed to protect the patients. All the lab research and samples are in the same place too. It’s the heart of the whole place and what the building was designed to protect. Five rings mean the locks will engage. Once the building is locked down, nobody can get in or out—except the Boss Man. And if he’s here, I don’t have much time left. I’m sorry, Avery. I didn’t mean to leave the rest up to you.”
I sit up and fight the urge to throw up again as Emma races down the corridor, pausing as she reaches the door to the lab. “Be safe, be happy, and take care of my daughter,” she yells before pushing her way inside.
Emma’s words make my blood run cold. I have no clue what she’s up to, but she doesn’t think she’ll be walking out of here alive. Whatever it is, I can’t let her do it. There has to be another way.
I ease myself off the bed as a siren screams into the silence. One ring. I shove the piece of paper from my hand into my pocket before steadying myself against the bed as the corridor spins around me. Another wail splits the air, followed by another. That’s three. Then another. I try to run to the doors of the clinic, but my body is sluggish and my movements are uncoordinated.
As I reach the door, the fifth ring sounds, and I hear the locks engage. I peer through the circular window and see Emma watching me with tears in her eyes. She smiles, her eyes slipping closed as she takes a deep breath and presses her hand to her heart. For a single second, she looks at peace. When her eyes open, she smiles at me before mouthing the word boom.
I scream when the world beyond the door explodes. The building groans, and I feel the ground shaking beneath my feet, but the clinic was designed to withstand a bomb. It’s just that nobody thought about the bomb going off inside the clinic.
I stumble back to the bed and grab the gun and keys, ignoring the tears that stream down my face. My heart is in my throat over what I just witnessed. I hardly knew her, though I’d seen her dozens of times over the years. We never exchanged words or offered smiles to each other, and yet I owe her my life.
The lights go off, snapping me out of my thoughts as I take in the still deserted corridor. The rooms will be locked down now, the people trapped inside assuming an intruder is on the premises. They won’t come out until they have been given the all-clear. I should be safe, yet I feel anything fucking but right now.
I move toward the stairwell and come to a halt when the door opens, and out comes one of my bosses—Arthur Smith, a man I hate—followed by none other than James.
“What have you done?” Arthur hisses at me, his white polyester shirt and trousers straining against his rounded belly. “You’ve become more trouble than you’re worth. Get rid of her,” he barks at James before straightening the stupid white Stetson he wears and stepping aside.
James lifts his arm, his hand shaking as he points his gun at me.
“James,” I choke out, taking a step toward him.
“I can’t—” he grits his teeth, his hand still shaking as blood starts to trickle from his nose.
“Just do it,” Arthur yells at him.
I pull my own gun and fire at Arthur three times in rapid succession. One shot goes wide, one hits him in the shoulder, and the other hits him in the head, making him crumble to the floor.
I move my gun so it’s pointed at James, who has blood dripping from his chin. All the blood vessels in his eyes have burst.
“Please, James, don’t make me do this.”
“Can’t fight it,” he hisses, pain etched into every line on his face.
“Please, James, please,” I beg him, my heart breaking as tears run down his face.
“Kill me,” he gasps as his finger tightens on the trigger, and I fire—twice, in case I miss, but this time my aim is true. Two bullets straight to the chest.
The gun falls from his hand as he drops to the ground. I run to him, falling to my knees as I lay my gun beside me and press my hands against his chest.
“Hold on, James. You’re going to be okay.”
He opens his mouth, blood running over his lips. He lifts his hand to cup my cheek.
“Somebody help me,” I scream, even though I know it’s no good. No one can hear me down here.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “So sorry.”
