Page 101 of Crimson Moon Falling

I sat for a long time, shaking and watching the water run. The implant hummed steadily, processing the agony and filing it away under survivable. The thing had kept me alive when I’d gone into arrhythmia.

Slowly, I climbed off the counter and washed my face. My wild hair, blotchy skin, and swollen eyes made me look half-crazy in the dim light. Fear and rage bled through the haze in my mind.

I was sick of being used and hurt. Maybe giving myself second-degree burns was extreme, but I refused to be their victim anymore. I was still in a building full of hostile people, though.

Wilson’s promise of “more persuasive methods” echoed in my head. The cold water had numbed the burns a little, but my hospital gown was bloodstained, and my wrists and ankles looked red and angry, the skin blistered and weeping. My ankles protested when I put weight on them, but the implant flooded my system with enough neuroinhibitors to let me function.

I limped to the heavy door with its automatic lock and pressed my ear against the cool metal. Nothing. The hallway beyond seemed quiet. I studied the locking mechanism and realized the only way I’d be getting out is when someone opened it from the outside.

So I sank to my butt next to the door, pulled my knees to my chest, and waited. The wait was excruciating. My burns throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and my brain kept trying to replay what had happened. Freda unconscious in the waiting room, waking up strapped to the bed, the doctor’s fingers inside me, Wilson planning to torture me. I pushed my thoughts down and focused on breathing.

My implant hummed quietly, running scenarios. My escape probability was low. I was in a hostile environment with minimal resources and a compromised physical state. But it wasn’t hopeless.

Wilson and Langston were probably gone for the night, and I was stuck here until morning. If I tried to blast the thick door open, everyone would know I was no longer restrained.

Then I heard footsteps outside, and I stood. The footsteps stopped outside my door, and it hissed open. A man in pale blue scrubs wheeled in a small cart loaded with medical supplies. He had thinning brown hair, a paunch, and the hollow-eyed look of someone working a double shift. He didn’t see me. His attention was fixed on the IV pole, where an empty bag hung, but he’d soon realize I wasn’t strapped to the bed anymore.

I didn’t give him time to sound an alarm. Instead, I zapped him in the back.

Electricity hit his nervous system, and his body went rigid, his back arching. Then he toppled forward, crashing on the floor.

I stepped back, breathing hard. The surge had cost me, and the fresh pain in my wrist was bright and nauseating. The orderly lay twitching on the linoleum. His eyes were rolled back, showing white. He was still spasming, making small, choked noises, but he was conscious enough to know what was happening. His eyes were wide with terror as I grabbed the sedative off his cart and shoved the needle into his neck.

His pockets yielded a plastic keycard on a lanyard, a cracked iPhone with a passcode lock, a ring of keys, and a wallet containing forty-three dollars and a driver’s license that said he was Dennis from Henderson.

My clothes were nowhere to be seen. I’d have to make do with the bloodstained hospital gown and hope I didn’t run into anyone who looked too closely.

I was getting up when the door hissed open again, and a woman in green scrubs walked in, carrying a towel and a bath caddy. She was maybe forty, with a lean, efficient build and her black hair scraped back in a bun.

When she saw the unconscious orderly on the floor and me crouched next to him, she threw the caddy at me and turned to run.

The woman moved fast, but my hand came up on instinct, palm out. Energy shot down my arm as my wrist screamed. The bolt hit her square between the shoulder blades, and her back arched, arms flung wide. She hit the floor and didn’t move.

My nose started bleeding, warmth flooding my upper lip. I swiped at it with the back of my hand as the room tilted and my knees buckled. I caught myself on the edge of the bed.

The implant sent a cold pulse through my system, trying to stabilize my blood pressure and clear the gray fuzz clouding my vision. Two bolts in under five minutes meant the blowback was coming.

I crawled to the woman and started pulling off her shoes. I needed her clothes.

Stripping her was harder than I expected. I managed to get her scrub top off, then the pants. Putting on the pants was its own special hell. The fabric scraped against my burned ankles, and I bit down to stop from screaming.

The shoes were practical sneakers, at least a size too big, but I slid them on anyway. I found a hairbrush in her shower caddy and tried to tame my hair. Finally, I stole her elastic hairband and pulled my hair back into a ponytail.

I picked up the orderly’s phone and held it to his unconscious face. The screen lit up, and I opened his maps. My location was in Las Vegas next to Nellis Air Force Base, but that was about all I could make out. I pocketed his keycard and took his cash.

The door had a card reader beside the handle. I took the woman’s card too. The lock hissed open, and pushing the door open a crack, I peered into the hallway.

Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting the empty hall in a sickly glow. The hallway stretched in both directions, identical doors spaced at regular intervals. I saw the stair sign to my right above a door, and went that way.

The scrubs were too big, and the oversized shoes slapped as I walked. Another drop of blood ran down my lip. My heart hammered as I walked. A man in a lab coat stepped out of a room two doors ahead of the stairwell as I ducked into it and started down the steps.

I breathed a sigh when he didn’t come after me and pulled the stolen phone out. The only number I remembered was Parker’s, but my hands shook so badly I had to redial.

“Yeah.” Parker’s voice was hard and guarded.

“It’s me,” I whispered.

Parker exhaled. “Jesus fuck. Are you hurt? Is someone forcing you to call me?”