I started looking madly into the doors lining the hallway, hoping to find a way out. But they were all patient rooms. I glanced into them in turn as I ran. Patient sleeping. Patient standing and staring at the wall. Patient sleeping. Patient sitting and staring at the wall. Patient sleeping. Patient staring. Patient sleeping. Patient staring.
My heart was racing. None of these patients looked active. None of them were speaking. None of them were doing much of anything, except staring ahead with dead eyes and thoughtless gazes.
Like they had all been operated on. Like they had all gotten the same horrifying brain surgery.
Like they had all been lobotomized.
I turned another corner right as the lights in the hospital dimmed. An alarm began to sound, shrill and repetitive. I knew the alarm was sounding for me. I knew that the hospital had detected an intruder and was going into lockdown mode. What I didn’t know was how I was going to escape.
“Stop!” a new voice sounded. I turned to see five guards running toward me, hands on their weapons.
If I didn’t find an exit soon, I was going to be captured. And if I was captured, would I be turned over to the government? Or would I be strapped to a gurney and wheeled into an operating room myself?
I turned another corner in the labyrinthine hospital, but this time I was staring down a dead end. I was trapped.
“Hands up!” one of the guards yelled angrily. There was a single wooden door at the end of the hall. It was my only choice.
I pushed it open quickly, almost in tears of relief when I realized it was unlocked, and barreled down another hallway at full speed. This one was different. It wasn’t the usual, sterile white color of the others. It was a muted beige, and I was running past offices instead of patient rooms.
There was another door at the far end of this hall. I had to hope that it was an exit. I couldn’t keep running through this hospital forever. I had to get out and lose the obvious white uniform I was wearing.
A huge bang sounded behind me as the guards made it through the door.
“Stop or we’ll shoot!”
Shoot then, I thought. I wasn’t about to surrender.
A large room on my left caught my eye right before I got to the door at the end of the hallway. I tried to understand what I was seeing through the long office window as I raced by. There were maybe twenty adults in the room, most of them sitting, with one person standing at the front. The person standing was pointing at something on a blackboard. I managed to catch what she was pointing at right before I reached the final door.
A crude drawing of a square. She was teaching them their shapes.
I hit the door at full speed. If it had been locked, I would’ve collided and then slid to the floor in a heap. But thankfully it was unlocked. And when I pushed through, I was suddenly immersed in an inky darkness.
I was outside.
I stumbled and hit the ground on my hands and knees, hard. I had run out of the hospital onto what appeared to be a wheelchair ramp, and the sudden slope had brought me down. I scrambled back to my feet and took off like a bullet down the ramp.
The wheelchair ramp came out near the loading dock I had seen when I first cased the building. So maybe they were wheeling down heavy supplies or machinery to load. Or maybe they were wheeling down lobotomized and incapacitated townspeople to load up into trucks. I didn’t know. And I wasn’t planning to hang around long enough to find out.
I got down the ramp and hit the dirt running. I didn’t hear the door open behind me… but I did hear the loud, firecracker noise of gunshots.
My mind was racing. I was in a secret compound that was collecting townspeople and lobotomizing them. But for what? Were they being silenced for some reason? Were they being made more compliant? These were just poor people who worked in factories. What was the point of this?
A bullet whizzed past me. It didn’t seem like the guards were too concerned about hitting innocent bystanders. And why would they be? They were operating on them like guinea pigs in that hospital. My heart lurched suddenly as I wondered if Juno had already been fed into the hospital. Or…
Kory.
If Kory had been thinking like me, he might’ve tried to get in that building, too. And if he did, he might also be at risk of facing down the surgeon’s stake and mallet.
Shots continued to ring out, and I realized I wasn’t going to be able to get back into that hospital to look for Kory or Juno. Not right now. I had to find shelter and get out of my uniform and then pray that Little John would be getting here soon. I made a sharp turn back toward the women’s barracks. Maybe if I could get inside, I’d be able to hide the uniform and blend in with everyone else.
Unless of course I was being watched by camera or some other surveillance. I hadn’t seen any cameras while I was walking through the compound, but that didn’t mean hidden cameras didn’t exist here. There was really no way to tell. I couldn’t stop and look around now, with gunfire so close behind me.
Cameras or not, my best bet was to get out of the white nurse’s uniform as soon as possible.
Thankfully, it was dark outside now. The guards I had seen patrolling earlier would have a hard time seeing me in the unlit areas of the compound, even in my bright outfit. There were lampposts every few hundred feet, but the vast majority of the fenced-in area was now in shadow. The gunshots were random and poorly aimed, and I knew the guards couldn’t see me very well.
I tried to think about how much time I had until Little John would be back. An hour? Half an hour? But I had lost all sense of time in my fear and panic. I could only focus on survival.
I was passing barracks now. I wanted to turn in to the first one I reached, but the guards were within sight of me. The bullets were still flying, so I needed to lose them before I took shelter.
I took a sharp turn at the next row of barracks I passed right as a bullet whizzed by my ear.
I ran almost blindly through the grounds. I didn’t see anyone as I ran, but I wasn’t able to see very far ahead of myself anyway. If people were within twenty feet of me, I might not have known it. The ground was mercifully even, which kept me upright as I ran. My side was starting to pinch with overexertion. I wasn’t going to be able to keep up this pace for much longer, even with the waves of adrenaline that were coursing through me. I had to find a place to hide.
The next lamppost was within ten feet of me, and I decided on a course of action: I would get past that light and then turn left into the barracks before the next light. If things went well, I would be cloaked by darkness for just long enough to avoid being seen.
Another bullet zipped through the air dangerously close to my shoulder, and I was reminded just how vulnerable I was without my second-skin suit. I wouldn’t just be able to absorb the shock of a bullet and keep running if I was hit now. I would drop like a rag doll, only to be dragged off for questioning or left for dead in the dirt.
I hit the perimeter of light cast off from the lamppost in a panic. I was utterly exposed now, bathed in a bright yellowish light that would’ve made the bright white nurse’s uniform glow. But if I could get past this light and back into the darkness, I was going to make my move into the upcoming barracks on my left.
If, I thought to myself grimly.
I could hear the guards behind me, but the gunfire was slowing down. It was dark, and they probably realized by this point that firing blindly wasn’t the most effective tactic. But that meant they’d be planning something new.
I had to get hidden.
The sudden shift from brightness to complete darkness momentarily overwhelmed my senses. I even almost ran past the barracks I had designated as my hiding spot. But as soon as my eyes adjusted and I regained my bearings, I took a hard left and slammed through the door and into the drafty building.
It was dark inside the barracks, but I was grateful for this fact. I quickly tore off the button-down dress and unwrapped my pants from around my waist. I stumbled loudly around in the dark as I pulled
my legs through and pulled up and buttoned my pants. Then I stuffed the nurse’s uniform into a large crack between the barrack wall and dirt floor. I looked down at the white nursing shoes. The rapid dash through the dirt had removed any trace of white from them. They were disguised enough to keep on.
I moved to the side of the door and leaned against the wall of the shack, trying to catch my breath. My side was in stitches with muscle pain, and my lungs were on fire. Every breath I drew felt sharp and caustic in my chest. But I was finally able to be still, even if just for a moment. And that was a remarkable feeling.
Until suddenly it wasn’t.
An old-fashioned oil lamp was lit some ten feet in front of me, and the barracks lit up with yellow light. I gazed into the light, stricken with surprise, and then began to look all around me.
A dozen pairs of eyes were tracing over me, squinting and widening as they tried to understand. Those two dozen or so eyes belonged to a tired and scrawny-looking gaggle of women whom I had awoken or disturbed with my sudden entrance.
“Who are you?” a woman asked suspiciously.
I turned to look at her, my mouth involuntarily hanging open and my eyes wide. Somehow, I hadn’t accounted for this possibility. I thought I’d get into a shelter and would be able to hunker down and hide. But instead I had interrupted a crew of confused and possibly hostile women who might see me as a threat or a terrorist like the guards outside did. What were these women going to do? Kick me out? Or, worse yet, scream for help?
“Who are you?” the voice repeated, now rising in volume and sounding angry.
Who was I? My mind blanked. I wanted to answer honestly and tell these women that my name was Robin. But suddenly I realized that in here I wasn’t Robin Sylvone. I was someone else. I was even wearing her face. But what was her name? I couldn’t believe it. I had totally forgotten.
The women began to rise from their beds and walk toward me. The woman who was asking questions picked up the oil lamp to bring it closer.
I was close to the door. I could have easily slipped out and back into the cover of night. But the guards were probably very near now. They might have even been right outside. Would they recognize me even without the nurse uniform? I tried to quickly decide who was more dangerous: the armed guards or these suspicious women.
“I won’t ask you again!” the woman with the lamp hissed.
But I had no answer for her question. That information had disappeared from my head. There was nothing I could say. So instead I just stood dumbly and tried to catch my breath.
“She’s running from the guards! Look!” another woman yelled, pointing her finger down to my side. I followed the direction slowly. She was pointing at the dirty nurse’s shoes I was still wearing.
I was caught now. And it hadn’t even been the guards who had done it.
But then, suddenly, my faculties came roaring back to me as the blood returned to my brain.
“Nora White,” I panted. “My name is Nora White.”
The women were close to me now, examining me. I felt like I was under a microscope.
“Well, Nora,” the woman with the lamp said. “Whoever you’re hiding from isn’t about to find you in here. You need to get back to your own barracks.”
“Please,” I replied simply. I was too tired to fight or argue, but I knew I couldn’t step outside of my hiding place just yet. Surely the guards were near. And they would notice someone leaving their bed so late at night.
“Please nothing,” she replied sternly. “We’re not going to risk our lives to hide you. If you’re not from Millville, you need to get out.”
Wait… what?
“Millville?” I repeated dumbly. My head was swimming. I felt faint.
“That’s right,” the woman answered. “These are the Millville barracks. And you need to leave.”
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“You need to leave,” the woman repeated.
My mind rushed through the information I had, trying to process it. I was in the Millville barracks, the place where my mother might be. Guards were swarming the yard outside looking for me. I didn’t know how close they were, but they could be right outside. And these women wanted me to leave. Now.
I looked hard at the woman holding the lamp. She was older, maybe in her mid-fifties. The soft orange flame from her oil lamp lit her face starkly, throwing her worry lines and wrinkles into sharp contrast. She looked like she had lived a hard life of factory work and hardship, her fingers bony as they clutched the lamp handle, the hair hanging around her face gray. She didn’t look like the type of person who would back down in a fight.
There were at least ten other women awake and staring at me, but this woman was obviously speaking for the whole group. And I didn’t get the impression that she wanted to hear my side of the story. She just wanted me out of there.
“Go on!” she demanded.
I could try to beg for shelter, or I could accept that these women weren’t going to let me stay and leave quietly. Leaving was obviously dangerous. But staying was dangerous, too. If I tried to argue or bunker down, I might incite the women to call for help. They might turn me over to the guards themselves.
I had just come to the conclusion that my best choice was to sneak out the way I had come and hope to make it to another barracks before being spotted when another woman began to speak.
“Maybe we should let her stay,” she said.
The woman with the lamp whipped around to face this obviously unwelcome suggestion, and I turned my eyes to the new speaker. She was tall and slender, with a gracefully long neck and striking green eyes. She looked slightly younger, maybe in her early to mid-forties, with dark brown hair draping down gently to her shoulders. She didn’t return the angry glare of the woman holding the lamp, or any of the confused stares of the other women who had turned to look at her.
Instead, she was gazing tenderly at me, a mix of pity and curiosity painted on her soft features.
But the older woman balked at the suggestion. “And risk our own so we can shelter this stranger?” she asked the second woman in angry shock. “Why on earth would we do that?”
The younger woman didn’t respond. She spoke to me instead. “Why are you hiding?” she asked.
I knew I couldn’t be completely truthful, but her compassion made me want to be as honest as I could. I stumbled to think of an answer that would tell her just enough without giving away too much. I had to be quick, too. How long did I have before the guards burst in here to search for me?
“I went looking for answers,” I replied, willing myself to keep my voice strong and steady in spite of my nervousness and uncertainty. “I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.”
I knew I shouldn’t tell her any more than that. And maybe I’d already said too much as it was. Would these women be even more likely to turn me over to the guards now, knowing that I had committed a serious infraction? They were obviously frightened and confused, and I knew they were at the mercy of the guards, just like I was. If they sheltered me, they could face retribution. But we were also on the same side. Surely they could relate to me as a fellow lower-class woman.
The younger woman looked back at me with no change of expression, a tormenting silence hanging over the room.
“See? A confessed troublemaker. She’ll have us all in hot water with the guards if they find her here,” the older woman hissed. She was looking at the younger woman, but it sounded like she was speaking to the entire room.
“Well, that’s only if they find her here,” another woman piped up. She was a redheaded woman in her thirties and wore thick glasses, through which she was glancing back and forth between the first two women, as if trying to decide which of them was going to win this particular battle.
“Of course they’ll find her,” another interrupted. “We can’t hide anything in here!”
“So, you’d give her up to be tortured or killed, then?” another accused.
I stayed silent and let the women debate around m
e. I had said all that I could. Now it was up to them to decide. But I didn’t have much time. The guards had to be close now.
Then that horrifying scene from the hospital came rushing back to me, and I realized that it didn’t matter what was at stake for these women now. What mattered was the terror that they were headed for. I had to warn them.
“We all have to get out of here,” I said suddenly, making them all turn quickly to face me again. “We’re all in danger.”
The kind woman with the sympathetic eyes stared intently at me. “You’ve seen something,” she said knowingly. “Haven’t you?”
I didn’t speak. Would these women even believe me if I told them what I had seen? The story sounded insane. What if they truly believed that Helping Hands was taking care of them? They’d think I was lying to save myself.
“What does it matter?” the angry older woman interjected. “We can’t escape this place. Have you seen the fences? All of the armed guards walking around? Or are you blind? We’d do best to keep our eyes down and our noses clean. That’s the only way we’re going to get out of this place.”
The kind woman didn’t respond. She was still looking at me inquisitively, now with a tinge of fear in her eyes.
“What have you seen?” she asked.
I didn’t have any time to answer. I could hear yelling and the thud of boots just outside. Without thinking, I ran toward the women and tried to push my way to the back of their group. It was too late to ask for their permission now. The guards were here.
Behind me, the cheap door flew open with a thunderous kick. Suddenly a guard was standing there, halfway inside the shack, staring at our group suspiciously. The women were silent. I lowered my eyes and stood still and quiet.
Please let them help me.
“What are you women doing?” the man asked angrily.
It was the moment of truth. Would they betray me? Or would they protect me?
“Preparing for bed, sir,” a female voice replied. I opened my eyes and looked for the source of the voice. It was the kind woman with green eyes speaking.
The Child Thief 5: Ghost Towns Page 30