Emily Morgan scanned the hall from the doorway of her hospital room. She had been sleeping peacefully when the screaming began. When she had heard the shotgun blasts, she pulled the IVs from her arms. She steadied herself on the doorframe, but the world crested and fell like ocean waves. Her legs didn’t feel like her own. She seemed to float instead of walk. She wondered if the disorientation stemmed from the trauma to her head or Dr. Callow’s prescription. Either way, she was in no condition to fight or run—but she could hide.
Only the closest work light was in operation. Darkness suffocated the rest of the hallway. She stumbled from the room and headed away from the ruined lights. The corridor was also dark in that direction, but that was her plan. She could hide in the darkness just as easily as the killer.
She had only moved a short distance down the hall when the last of the work lights blinked out.
Her knees threatened to buckle, but she steadied herself against the wall and pressed forward. The darkness seemed fluid as if she were drowning in a sea of oil. Her plan was simple: move down the hall as far as she could, hide in a random room, and pray.
Her breathing and the noise made by her socks shuffling along the floor were the only sounds.
She stopped. There was another sound behind her.
The air was still. After a moment, she continued on.
She stopped again. Nothing.
She prayed that the noise existed only in her imagination, but she could have sworn that she had heard the rustle of fabric at her back. And the sound seemed to be keeping pace with her.
The world rolled, and she trembled all over. The shaking caused her head to throb.
When she advanced, she did so with as slow and calculated movements as she could manage. She moved to the opposite side of the hall and crept forward. A little farther … just a little farther.
She felt a warm wind against the back of her neck, but that wasn’t possible. There was no wind here.
She imagined another possibility—the killer’s breath.
She pushed the thought from her mind. He would have been just as blind as she was in this place. Unlike some, she didn’t believe Ackerman to be the bogeyman. He was just a man whose mind had been twisted. He couldn’t see in the dark.
She thought back to the night when Ackerman had forever changed their lives. It seemed long ago, but it had only been a matter of days. She remembered his eyes the most. At the time, she had mistaken the look in his eyes for only madness or rage, but looking back, she also saw pain and hopelessness within his gaze. After the incident, she had studied the man who had killed her husband. She had learned of his past. She had needed to understand.
She felt the wind on her neck again. Then, she felt something else, something of substance. A finger traced the line of her neck down her shoulder.
The terror crippled her. She stood petrified.
She gathered her resolve and thrust an arm back against the killer. Her forearm struck flesh, but she was weak and knew that she could do little damage.
She ran down the dark hallway, tripping, stumbling. The swaying of her reality finally overwhelmed her, and she toppled forward. She crawled in desperation, questing for a place to hide.
She found what felt like a table. Something the workmen had used? No, not a table. A cabinet of some kind? She felt wheels under the object. Whatever it was, it was empty, large enough to hold her, and her only option. She crawled inside and quieted her breathing.
Her heart beat at such volume that she feared he would find her by it. She felt him drawing near. She imagined the hammering in her chest calling to him like a beacon.
She willed the pounding to stop. She had never thought of herself as a strong person, but Ackerman had made her realize that she could survive anything. Death would not claim her tonight. She would beat back the reaper.
She thought of her daughter. The loss of a parent and the trauma of the incident would affect the girl in profound ways. Ashley needed her mother by her side, and she vowed that nothing in this world or the next would take her away.
The voice froze her thundering heart.
“Emily. I see you.”