Alister crept into the hallway, his eyes immediately drawn to the door across from his. Curious if the occupant had fallen victim to Anna, he pressed his forehead against the window and peered inside. Though encased in shadow, he could clearly see someone still occupied the room. He was sitting in the chair perfectly still with his back to the door.
Alister raised his knuckles to knock on the door but decided to try the handle instead. The door opened with a slow, protesting creak. Every muscle in his body tightened and his eyes concentrated on the figure in the shadows.
The person did not move.
Alister breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed into the room. The darkness within swallowed him, and the bed and table reminded him of the mounds of garbage that lined every room in his home. The powerful smell of feces and urine forced him to hold his breath.
Lost within the shadows, Alister stumbled over something and fell to his knees.
“Who’s there?”
Alister jumped to his feet. A slow tingle moved down his spine and stilled his feet. He looked at the chair, and the shadowy figure stood next to it.
“Who are you?”
He was tall.
“What do you want from me?”
And wide.
“Why don’t you speak?”
He lunged toward Alister. Enough light seeped into the room from the hallway so that Alister could see his features.
“Bruce, it’s Alister.”
Bruce stopped and looked over his shoulder toward the chair. “Bruce is here?” He knelt on the floor and looked beneath the bed. He stood and pointed at Alister. “Are you hiding him from me?”
Alister shook his head. “No.”
“If I get my hands on him, I’ll kill him. And if you’re hiding him from me—”
“I’m not.”
Bruce stepped forward and stood nose to nose with Alister. “Are you looking for trouble or something?”
“No.”
“That’s good,” Bruce said, and he returned to the chair and sat. “You should know Bruce is extremely dangerous. If I were you, I’d be careful with him.”
Alister slowly exited the room and pulled the door closed. He bent at the waist and grabbed his knees. “Holy shit.” The surge of adrenaline made his legs wobble and shortened his breath.
Something slammed into the door from inside Bruce’s room, and Alister recoiled. Bruce’s face was pushed against the small pane of glass, and spit ran from his mouth in a thick wad. His eyes were ablaze with panic.
“Please get me out of here,” Bruce said. “Lester’s in here and he’s after me.”
Alister ran down the hallway, through double doors and down another hallway. Each turn he made appeared identical to the last.
Lost and wheezing, Alister slowed his run to a walk and tried to figure out his approximate whereabouts. He pondered how many rights and lefts he’d taken.
He was lost.
A black sign with white letters at the end of the hallway caught his attention.
“Medical,” he said, smiling.