Chosen (Second Sight)

by Hunter, Hazel

  “Wake her up,” Darren said looking up at Isabelle.

  Isabelle shook her head.

  “We can’t. She’s going to sleep for a while because she’s so tired.”

  “We don’t have much time,” Mac reminded her.

  Isabelle nodded as Darren looked back and forth between her and his mom.

  “Darren,” Isabelle said. “You wait here with your mom. We’re going to find my friend. Okay? We won’t be gone long so you wait right here. Can you do that?”

  For once, Darren seemed content and simply nodded.

  “All right,” Mac said. “Let’s go.”

  Isabelle hopped back up on the table and Mac covered her with the sheet. He adjusted his ball cap and pulled it low.

  “Be right back,” he said to Darren.

  He pulled the door open and pushed the gurney out. The corridor was still empty.

  On the other side of the nurses station, a room door opened. Mac sped up.

  “Doctor’s been paged,” a nurse was saying as she backed out. She was wearing purple scrubs.

  Quickly, Mac rolled Isabelle back the way they’d come and, once at Kayla’s door, pushed right in, tugging the gurney behind him.

  “Thank god,” Kayla said behind him. “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Isabelle wasted no time throwing off the cover and as Mac turned to Kayla, her mouth opened in shock as she stared at Isabelle.

  “Isabelle!” she said. “What–”

  “We’ve come to get you out!” Isabelle said, taking her hand. She and Mac saw the hand restraints at the same time. Mac immediately reached across the bed and undid the far buckle as Isabelle unbelted the near one. “We have to hurry,” Isabelle said.

  “I can’t,” Kayla said.

  “Well, you don’t have to run,” Isabelle said. “But–”

  “No,” Kayla said, gripping her stomach as soon as the wrist straps were free. “I can’t. Contractions.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Carla?” Geoffrey muttered as he neared the birthing building. “What was her name?”

  If it hadn’t been for Maurice being in such a foul mood, Geoffrey would be having his night cap. Well, it wouldn’t take more than a minute. He let the flashlight wander ahead a little further along the path.

  “Carol!” he said.

  That was it.

  His shoes crunched in the gravel but just as he reached out to open the door, he heard a growling sound.

  Geoffrey stopped.

  Wild animals weren’t all that uncommon out here but, even so, it sounded too close. But as the noise came again, louder this time, he realized it wasn’t a growl.

  There was a sharp thump from around the corner of the building. Then another. And then the sound again, higher and longer. He aimed the flashlight in that direction.

  What is that?

  • • • • •

  Darren’s mother hadn’t been restrained with wrist straps. Unfortunately, Isabelle realized, there was a reason.

  “Stop it,” his mom mumbled, eyes hardly open. “Not going.”

  “Mom,” Darren begged, pulling on her hand but hardly moving her. “Mom!”

  He’d been pleading non-stop and had managed to wake her but Isabelle wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

  “Save the world,” she slurred.

  “She won’t leave,” Kayla panted, gripping her stomach. Mac had put her in a wheelchair while Isabelle had put on scrubs. The plan had been to take both Kayla and Darren’s mother in wheelchairs. “She’s theirs,” Kayla breathed.

  “No she’s not,” Darren yelled, his face red and angry.

  “I don’t know if she can be moved,” Mac said to him, his voice soft.

  “She can,” the little boy insisted, defiant.

  Isabelle felt Mac’s hand in the small of her back.

  “We’re running out of time,” Mac said.

  Behind her, Kayla sucked in a breath and moaned as she blew it out.

  Isabelle knew they had to leave and yet… She crouched in front of Darren. He had helped them. She took his hand in hers.

  “Come with us,” she said.

  “Isabelle,” Mac said, slowly. “That’s kidnapping.”

  Isabelle jerked her gaze up to him. Mac’s pained expression said everything.

  “But…” she whispered.

  How could she leave Darren? They’d punish him again with that shock wand.

  “I want my mother!” he yelled, yanking his hand back. With renewed vigor and a little panicky, he tugged on his mother’s hand again using both of his. “Mom! Please, wake up!”

  “Isabelle,” Kayla groaned.

  “We have to go,” Mac said, lifting Isabelle up. “Now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Maurice threw open the door to the monitor room so hard it smashed into the wall with a cracking sound and then shuddered in place. The two security guards seated in the rolling chairs jumped up, one of them sending his chair skittering across the room to collide with the wall.

  “What the fuck is going on in the birthing building?” Maurice screamed.

  Large white lettering on the black, metal racks identified the location of each view. He immediately homed in on the eight monitors that covered that building. All he saw was a nighttime view of the outside and empty corridors inside. He couldn’t even see Geoffrey.

  Maurice whirled on the two men.

  “What happened?” he screamed, gripping his phone.

  “Nothing!” yelled one. “Nothing happened!”

  “Then why is the guard there tied up with his own socks and biting his underwear?”

  The two security guards stared at each other, mouths open.

  “Useless!” Maurice yelled.

  Though he glared at the monitors, he knew it was pointless. He brought the phone up, the line still open.

  “Search it!” he screamed. “Search every goddamn inch. I want to know what happened.”

  His mind whirled and, though he stared at the monitors, he didn’t see them. There were no recordings for them to review. No tapes or files. No evidence–by design.

  He’d learned once how much damage data could do. He would never go through that again. There was a familiar, sickening tightening in his chest. Sweat trickled at his temples and his shirt clung to his back. He snapped his eyes closed and fought down the urge to vomit.

  “Dr. Girod?” said one of the guards.

  How had this happened?

  “Are you all right?”

  Maurice clenched his jaw and forced his eyes open.

  “Get your guns,” he ordered.

  • • • • •

  Mac could hear the shouts behind them. They’d have to head for the trees. Isabelle ran behind him and he pushed the wheelchair over the short grass as fast as he could without toppling it. The small front wheels caught easily and he could barely see in the dark.

  “I see flashlights!” Isabelle breathed, glancing behind.

  “They know we’re gone,” Mac said without turning.

  “God, I hope Darren hid,” she gasped.

  Kayla hunched over, grunting loudly with each jarring bounce of the chair.

  A shot rang out.

  Mac ducked out of pure reflex.

  “Isabelle!” he yelled, slowing.

  Breathing hard, she came to his side.

  “Was that a–”

  “Run for the trees,” he said, grabbing her arm and propelling her forward.

  “What about–”

  “We’re right behind you,” he said. “Go!”

  Another shot rang out. It sounded like small caliber.

  “Oh god,” Kayla groaned, doubling over. “It’s coming.” She looked up at him but he could barely make out her face in the moonlight. “The baby’s coming!”

  Mac scooped her out of the wheelchair and ran.

  “Hold on, Kayla,” he muttered. “Hold on.”

  He plunged forward into the night, toward the cover of
the trees. Isabelle’s purple scrubs were barely visible up ahead. There were more shouts behind them and the erratic play of a flashlight bounced over the ground to his left. He jogged right. His thighs burned but the rush of adrenalin did its job. He crashed forward, hardly feeling Kayla’s weight in his arms.

  Another shot rang out but this time a small clod of turf lifted in his peripheral vision.

  Isabelle disappeared into the oaks. Only twenty feet away and Mac couldn’t see her. One part of his brain was relieved but the other sensed Kayla convulsing in his arms. He bounded over thick roots and dodged sideways around thicket.

  “Mac!” Isabelle called from his left. There were shouts from the direction of the hospital. They were closer. “I didn’t know which way–”

  “Follow me!” he said, not stopping.

  And though Kayla only groaned quietly, he knew she had to be in pain. His right arm was wet. Her water had broken.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Geoffrey couldn’t see a thing and had to slow down. He’d barely been able to catch sight of them without the trees.

  “Can you see them?” he yelled, breathing hard.

  “No,” yelled the guard. “But I found something!”

  Geoffrey stopped and tried to catch his breath.

  “What?” he finally yelled.

  “The wheelchair,” the guard yelled.

  They left it?

  Geoffrey followed the direction of his voice, immediately tripped and faceplanted.

  “Goddamn it,” he said, spitting dirt.

  “Geoffrey?”

  “Yeah,” he said, getting up. “I’m coming.”

  He wiped his mouth and brushed the dirt off his shorts and tank top. Stumbling over rocks and plants he could barely see, Geoffrey finally cleared the trees where moonlight could help the small spot of the flashlight. The guard was several feet away. He was gripping one of the handles of the wheelchair and righting it.

  “They have to be moving slow,” said the guard, looking off into the trees. “If we hurry–”

  The security radio squealed.

  “Geoffrey!” came Maurice’s tinny voice.

  “Yes,” Geoffrey said, keying the mic. “I’m here.”

  “There’s a car in the parking lot,” Maurice said. “A red Volvo. Do you know anything about it?”

  Geoffrey frowned at the radio speaker. A red Volvo? At this time of night? Isabelle’s car had been…Wait a minute.

  “That’s Kayla’s mother’s car!” Geoffrey yelled. Then he remembered to hit the mic. “That’s Kayla’s mother’s car!” With any luck, they’d cut them off at the parking lot. “Leave it,” he said to the guard. “We’re on our way!” he screamed into the walkie-talkie.

  • • • • •

  Isabelle dug into the front pocket of Mac’s pants and found the keys.

  “They’re heading to the Volvo,” Mac said, breathing hard, as she hit the unlock button. “We need to tell Susan to get out of there.”

  They’d all heard the radio call from the walkie-talkie on Mac’s belt–the one he’d taken from the security guard. Isabelle couldn’t muster enough breath to reply. Instead, she opened the back door, threw their clothes to the floor, and stood aside. As Mac stooped and laid Kayla down, she cried out.

  “The baby!” she gasped.

  “You’re doing great, Kayla,” Mac said. “Your water broke so we’re going to a hospital.”

  Isabelle quickly dumped her purse on the passenger seat and grabbed her phone. She’d just been about to dial Susan when Mac took the phone.

  “I’ll do that,” he said, sprinting to the driver’s door. “Get in the back.” She shut the door and started to follow him. “No,” Mac said, opening his door and putting the phone to his ear. “Other side. You need to be on the other side. In the back.”

  What other side? Kayla is sitting there.

  “Susan,” Mac said into the phone. “We’ve got her. Get out of there. We’ll be right behind you.”

  Isabelle looked into the back door, not sure how she was supposed to fit, but as the engine started and Kayla cried out, there was no time to argue. Isabelle fumbled for the latch on the side of the front passenger seat, yanked it up, and pushed the seat down and forward as it collapsed. She jumped in, perched on the back of it, and slammed the door closed behind her.

  • • • • •

  Though Maurice hadn’t realized it was idling, the Volvo engine suddenly roared to life in the distance and the tires pealed rubber.

  “Stop her!” he yelled, pointing.

  Both guards raised their weapons and fired.

  The car rapidly picked up speed, though, turning a tight circle in the gravel lot, spewing rocks and dirt. Maurice’s ears rang with the sounds of the shots.

  “Shoot it!” he screamed. “Stop her!”

  But it was no use. Maurice had no idea if any of the bullets had managed to land but the Volvo gave no sign of it. It fishtailed onto the road in a spray of gravel and then it was gone.

  Another gun shot rang out, flashing from the far side of the lot. Hope sprung into Maurice’s chest but the Volvo’s tail lights strobed through the trees and rapidly faded into the distance. Though Geoffrey was crossing the lot toward him, Maurice couldn’t take his eyes off the fading tail lights.

  “Get the Jeep,” Maurice said.

  “It’ll take too long,” said one of the guards. “They’ll be at–”

  Maurice whirled on him.

  “Give me your gun,” he said, thrusting his hand out. The man stared at Maurice’s hand and then at his gun. “Give it to me!”

  Slowly, the guard turned the gun around, gripped it by the barrel, and put the handle in Maurice’s hand.

  Geoffrey arrived.

  “Was that Kayla?” he asked, still breathing hard.

  “Shut up,” Maurice hissed through clenched teeth, never taking his eyes off the guard. He ground out the words slowly. “Get the Jeep.”

  “Maurice–” Geoffrey said.

  “Shut up!” Maurice said, pointing the gun at him. Wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open, Geoffrey backed up a step. Maurice quickly swung his aim back to the guard.

  Finally, the man began to back toward the house.

  “Run,” Maurice said. He fired the pistol in the air. “Run!”

  • • • • •

  Mac watched the headlights in the rear view mirror approaching. The walkie-talkie chatter had stopped. Isabelle had helped Kayla to lay down across the back seat.

  “I need to push,” Kayla managed to get out between grunts.

  The headlights were looming large but Mac still couldn’t see the make of the vehicle. Whatever it was, it was moving fast. He kept both hands on the wheel and his foot off the brake. The headlights were off as well. The vehicle was nearly on them. His arms tensed and he clamped down on the wheel.

  A blur of red sped by and Mac exhaled as the shape of the Volvo came into view.

  “Here we go,” he said, flipping on the lights as he jammed his foot down. Though the tires spun for a second, the Camry finally lurched forward. “Hang on!”

  He wasn’t sure who grunted as Isabelle was launched toward the back headrest and Kayla screamed.

  As the car hurtled down the dark road, Mac focused on what the headlights could see–which wasn’t enough for the speed he was driving. He couldn’t see the Volvo. Susan had been moving at high speed. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he found Isabelle’s cell phone on the seat between his legs. He hit the dial button hoping it’d redial. It rang once, twice, and then a third time.

  Come on, Susan. Answer.

  Finally it picked up.

  “Why are you–” Susan screamed.

  “We need a hospital,” Mac yelled. “Susan, we need a hospital.”

  “Oh my god,” Susan said.

  Up ahead the road straightened out and Mac saw the flash of red brake lights.

  “No,” Mac said. “Don’t stop! Kayla’s in labor. We need a hospital.”
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br />   “But I don’t know…”

  Susan didn’t know the area.

  Quickly, he glanced into one side view mirror, then the other. The bright dome light made the rear view mirror useless. No one from the commune was following them.

  “Get out of the way,” Mac said into the phone. “And follow us.”

  Kayla wailed.

  “Give me your hand,” Isabelle yelled. Kayla gasped, tried to suck in air and sputtered. “Kayla, give me your hand!”

  Mac kept his foot down on the gas and felt the car at the limit of its handling capability. It wasn’t going to do Kayla any good to roll it. They were coming up on the Volvo fast.

  Mac pulled into the lane for opposite traffic.

  “Breathe,” Isabelle said. “Squeeze my hand and inhale. You’re doing great.”

  They passed the Volvo, another blur of red on the passenger side this time. Mac had no idea whether Susan could see Isabelle in the back seat. But when he glanced in the side view mirror, he saw the Volvo swerve, quickly correct, and stop falling behind.

  “Isabelle?” Mac said.

  “I don’t know the area either,” she said, turning to him.

  “Oh my god!” Kayla shrieked.

  “All right,” Mac said. “I’ve got it. It’ll be quicker than a hospital.” He glanced at Isabelle’s worried face. “Trust me.”

  Isabelle turned back to Kayla.

  “He’s got it,” Isabelle said. “You–”

  Mac swerved onto the main road, tires screeching.

  Isabelle nearly tumbled on top of Kayla.

  “You concentrate on breathing,” Isabelle finished. “How many seconds between contractions?”

  “What?” Kayla yelled as her voice was cut off by one.

  “One one-thousand,” Isabelle said loudly. “Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand.”