Robin Cook - Host

Pushing on, Lynn and Michael skirted the robotic arms that placed the patients on the conveyor system for Cluster 5-B when cued. For the moment they were at rest, having just placed a patient. It was, the students thought, an opportune moment for them. Michael climbed up onto the belt on all fours. He motioned for Lynn to do the same.

Lynn cast a quick look behind her. Several security people were coming through the same door that she and Michael had used. Catching sight of Lynn, they yelled for her to stop.

Lynn ignored them and, mimicking Michael, leaped up onto the moving belt on all fours. The surface was a smooth and pliable silicone material, which afforded good traction. With Michael about ten feet in the lead but already out of sight, Lynn ducked her head as she was drawn into a four-foot-high tunnel.

About six feet past the entrance, the conveyor abruptly angled upward, and the tunnel progressively became darker. After Lynn was taken about twenty feet up the incline, the entire system came to a sudden halt.

“Shit!” she heard Michael’s voice say somewhere ahead. “Why did the fucking thing stop?”

“The security people saw me get on,” Lynn said. She began to crawl upward. She sensed Michael was doing the same, yet after only a short distance she bumped into his feet.

“Why did you stop?” Lynn asked. She could barely make out Michael’s form in front of her. She knew they had to hurry. She could hear voices behind them.

“We’re not alone in here,” Michael said. “There is a patient in front of me. We’re going to have to climb over. Are you okay with that?”

“We don’t have any choice. There should be enough room.” Lynn reached up and touched the ceiling. The tunnel was like a tube, with seemingly more than enough room to scramble over a body.

“I don’t think it is going to be difficult, but it sure as hell ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“We’ll manage,” Lynn said, although she wasn’t sure she believed it herself. She couldn’t think of too many experiences worse than climbing over a naked, comatose patient in an upwardly angled, dark cylinder.

Lynn heard Michael say, “Sorry, bro,” as he struggled forward. Lynn waited. Looking straight ahead and to the side of Michael’s dark form, she could see a bit of light, giving her the confidence there wasn’t that much farther to go.

“Okay,” Michael said a minute or so later. “Your turn! I’m sure this poor bastard is going to think you are a picnic after me.”

Getting past the patient was physically easier than Lynn had anticipated but psychologically more trying than she’d imagined. She struggled not to put any weight on the comatose person but wasn’t totally successful. The fact that he was supine rather than prone made it worse.

“Okay,” Lynn said breathlessly once she was past. She had been holding her breath while in close contact with the individual. Michael was waiting impatiently.

“Let’s get a move on!” Michael whispered urgently as he began crawling forward. They could hear voices behind them more clearly. “They might reverse the direction of the belt.”

After another fifteen feet of their racing on all fours, the belt leveled off and the ambient light increased dramatically, especially after the belt made a ninety-degree turn. After another ten feet they emerged into Cluster 5-B, which was a mirror image of Cluster 4-B. Relieved at having made it, both stood and climbed over the side. As they did so, the belt suddenly resumed operation, with the rollers moving in the opposite direction, as Michael had feared.

With a sense of partial relief from having avoided being pulled back into the clutches of the people chasing them, they used the conveyor superstructure to swing down and drop onto the walkway. With all conveyor machinery shut down, the room was quiet. The only real noise was from the intermittent flushing process in various cylinders.

The students lost no time. They rushed to the door leading out of the room and, once they determined the hallway was clear, made a mad dash for the exit. They ran past the NOC and soon skidded to a stop at the door to the outside. Michael snapped up their raincoats and handed Lynn hers, and they pulled them on quickly. They didn’t want to have to explain themselves if they ran into anybody on their way to the dorm or in the dorm itself.

“Ready?” Michael asked. His hand was poised above the door lever.

“More than ready,” Lynn said, glancing back over her shoulder. “Come on! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

Michael hit the lever, but to their horror nothing happened! He hit it again several times in a row with the same effect. Then he pressed on the lever as hard as he could and held it. Still nothing. The door didn’t budge.

Lynn folded her arm against her torso and lunged at the door with her right shoulder. She hit it hard, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Michael did the same with the same result. The door was made of steel, with a solid core. It was meant as a significant barrier, and both of them knew it.

The two students eyed each other in desperation.

“What are we going to do?” Michael barked.

Lynn didn’t respond. Instead she whipped out the stapled bundle of floor plans and rapidly flipped through them.

“Come on, sis!” Michael snapped breathlessly. “We have to run. Our only chance is to cross over to the hospital. Are you looking for the best route?”

At that moment both heard the unmistakable sound of a door bursting open. They couldn’t see it and assumed it was the stairwell door.

“This way,” Lynn said hurriedly. She started forward in the opposite direction from the hospital.

Michael ran after her, trying to tell her they were headed in the wrong direction, but she ignored him. After turning a corner, Michael again tried to talk to her. Behind them they heard the sound of men running in their direction.

Lynn turned yet another corner, entering a long hallway that stretched out like a study in perspective. She was running at full speed, with Michael a few steps behind. They were passing doors on either side.

“Where the hell are we going?” Michael gasped.

Lynn continued to ignore him. Suddenly she stopped in front of one of the doors along the main corridor. She did it so precipitously that Michael plowed into her. He had to grab her with both hands to keep both of them from falling. She struggled out of his arms and hit the door’s opening lever. The moment it slid open, she dashed inside.

Michael followed. He was confused as to what she was doing. Before the pocket door had opened, he’d seen the block letters on the door that identified the room as PHARMACY AND GENERAL SUPPLIES. Once inside, he turned around and closed the door. Facing back into the highly air-conditioned room, he saw that it was filled from floor to ceiling with rows of shelving, crammed with all manner of drugs and associated supplies. To his further surprise, Lynn had disappeared.

Michael ran up the center aisle, glancing down each cross aisle, looking for Lynn. Her behavior had him baffled. He found her at the very back, on her hands and knees, in front of a relatively large metal latticework screen some two feet high and three feet wide that was positioned just above the baseboard and painted the same color as the wall. She had her screwdriver out and was madly removing the sheet-metal screws holding it in place.

“What the hell are you doing?” Michael demanded. “They are going to be in here in a flash and the ball game’s going to be over.”

“And we won’t be here,” Lynn said confidently.

“Are you suggesting...”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Lynn said quickly. She took out the last screw and then struggled to remove the grille. It wasn’t cooperating; dried paint was holding it in place. “When I was at the building commission today, I learned that the Shapiro shares infrastructure with the hospital, including the HVAC system. This return duct will take us back to the hospital.”