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Jimmy gulped in air as he sat up, the splintering pain in his sides as his lungs expanded a terrible reminder that he was still alive. He took in his surroundings, everything coming back to him quickly. Detective Reilly crouched beside him.
“Agent Pike!” he sputtered. God, how it hurt to talk.
“Easy,” the detective said, her face contorted with what looked like genuine concern. She pointed to her right. “He’s over there.”
Jimmy’s eyes widened as he saw Agent Pike lying prone and not moving. “You didn’t—”
“No. He’s just unconscious. Whacked him pretty good with his Glock, so his head’s going to be ringing something awful when he wakes. But listen, if you’re okay, I need—”
“That jerk! I told him—” Jimmy groaned and blinked, his head still a little fuzzy. Pressing his knuckle into his forehead and making small circles. “He should’ve just given me the gun. Asshole tried to kill me!”
Detective Reilly snapped her fingers. “Jimmy? Are you listen—”
“Phone! I had a phone!” He scrambled to his feet and began looking for the bag he’d brought in with him. Detective Reilly gave him a confused, maybe annoyed, look, but he paid her no mind.
Scanning the room for the plastic bag he’d been carrying, he spotted Michael crying and squatting over a limp form. His breath hitched. “Mikey?” A chill ran through him. “Is that... Tessa?”
Hands grabbed his shoulders and spun him back around. Detective Reilly’s pained expression communicated the gravity of the crap he’d awoken to, her soft, almost sickly look casting a vibe through Jimmy that rattled his nerve. “If we don’t do something soon, she’ll die. You said something about a phone?”
Jimmy tried to focus. She looks like she’s dead already. He started to turn, but the detective shook him. Stern eyes met him as he faced forward again.
“The phone, Jimmy. We need that phone!”
“I-I-I must have dropped it when the Bandage Man, er, Agent Pike grabbed me.” He took in the room again then ran to the doorway where he found the plastic bag. Inside was the burner phone and Agent Pike’s badge, which was apparently jostled out of his arm and knocked over there during the melee. He muttered a thank you to the Almighty as he bent to pick it up, grateful neither the doctor nor that crazy killer had seen the bag while retreating.
Wasting no more time, he ripped open the bag and powered on the phone. He dialed the one number he found programmed into it, and as it rang, he hurried back into the room.
“Matthew?” Agent Spinney spat after one ring. “What’s your status?”
“Uh... Agent Spinney, right? This is Jimmy. We—”
Detective Reilly stole the phone from his hand. “Frank? Is that you?” After a split second, her shoulders dropped a little away from her ears. Even then, she looked wound up tighter than a lug nut. “Oh, thank God. He’s okay. We’re okay. But listen—”
Detective Reilly winced then frowned. “Your agent? The fucking guy tried to kill us. But, Frank—”
The detective huffed as Agent Spinney apparently interrupted her a second time. “Brainwashed?” The word came out of her mouth as if it were the stupidest thing anyone had ever said to her. She paused a half a second, breathed, then said, “Okay. Maybe. It doesn’t matter. We need a bus stat! Civilian down. Plus—” She stomped her foot. “I know we’re at a hospital, but those lunatics are still here somewhere if they haven’t already made their escape, and who knows how many other brainwashed people they’ve got here to do their bidding? So get off your ass. Get us hospital staff you can trust, lock down this place and the entire damn city, and do all of that right fucking now!”
She cocked her head, scowling as she listened, then handed the phone to Jimmy. “Here. Tell him how to get to us.”
Jimmy placed the phone against his ear and did his best to explain to Agent Spinney the circuitous route that would lead the cavalry through the rec room and into an unused portion of the hospital to the dungeon of a room where he stood.
Jimmy held the phone loosely by his side and turned to Sam. “He put me on hold.”
Sam rolled her eyes. Shouting came from somewhere far off inside the hospital.
“What’s all that screaming?” he asked.
The detective, Michael, and Jimmy searched the walls as if the voices came from somewhere within them. No one said a word.
“Jimmy!” Frank’s voice bellowed through the phone’s speaker, and Jimmy pressed the phone back to his ear. “You have to get out of there. They’re all out. All the most violent offenders from Ward D. It’s a madhouse in there.”
“Shit!” Jimmy spat. He looked at the detective then Michael. Both gazed at him, expressions expectant as if he might be able to give them good news, some hope, or at least a false promise that help was on its way. He looked down. Instead, he could only tell them that things had gone from bad to worse.
“They’re killing staff and other patients alike,” Frank said. “Get out of there! Get out now!”
The line went dead. He could see in Michael and Detective Reilly’s wide eyes and bloodless cheeks that they’d just heard every word and felt a modicum of relief at not having to be the one to tell them. He waggled the phone at Tessa. “We can’t just leave her.”
Detective Reilly took a step toward him. “We have to. Jimmy, she’s already—”
“I’ll carry her.” Agent Pike was on his feet, surprising them all. Jimmy nearly dropped the phone as he jumped.
All eyes were on the agent as he walked over to Tessa and crouched near her limp form. With the gentleness of a loving father, he scooped her into his arms and stood. “Let’s go.”