F. Wilson - The Select

"Oh, Tim, it's you, it's you, I knew you'd never leave me like that."

He felt his own sobs welling up in his chest with nowhere to go, searching for a voice, an exit. His vision blurred and he was startled to feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks. Sensation was returning to his face.

If only he could speak. Because as wonderful as this was, she had to go now.

Okay. You've found me. Now get out of here, get somewhere safe and call the cops, the FBI, the CIA, the Pentagon, just make sure you're safe first!

And then over Quinn's shoulder, through the blur of tears, he saw the other nurse, the one called Ellie, walking past the window in the hallway. She stopped abruptly and stared into the ward. She leaned closer to the window and cupped her hands around her eyes for a second or two, then she jerked away from the window and darted back the way she had come.

But Quinn hadn't seen a thing.

She had to get out of here, had to run! He had to let her know! Tim tried his voice again, knowing he couldn't make a sound, yet he had to try.

"Go."

The word shocked him. His voice sounded like a tree limb scraping against a stucco wall, but it was his voice.

Quinn straightened and stared at him. "Tim! Can you speak?"

He tried to tell her that a nurse had seen her but his lips and tongue wouldn't cooperate. He had to keep it simple.

"Go!"

"Not without you. I'm never—"

Then the overheads came on.

*

Quinn whirled in the sudden burst of light and saw two nurses—one heavy and blonde, the other thin and brunette— standing inside the door, gaping at her.

" Now do you believe me?" the thin one said.

"Who are you?" said the heavy one. "And what are you doing here? Do you realize how you're endangering these patients?"

Quinn was tongue tied for an instant. She'd had a story set to use had she been intercepted before she reached Ward C, but nothing for why she was actually in the ward. She realized that they didn't know who she was. Why should they? The only times she'd ever been on Five Science were in the afternoon. She could be anybody. So she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"I thought they might be lonely," she said as lamely as she could. She tried to look dazed, out of it as she shuffled toward the nurses...toward the door. "But no one will talk to me."

The nurses glanced at each other, then the heavy one spoke again. She seemed to be the head nurse for the two-woman shift.

"You could have brought an infection in here."

"Oh, no," Quinn said with intense sincerity as she continued her approach. "I wash my hands every day. But they still wouldn't talk to me. Will you talk to me?"

Another glance flashed between the nurses, then the thin one spoke.

"Of course we'll talk to you." She pulled open the door to the nursing station. "Come on out here. We've got coffee and donuts and we'll talk as long as you like."

Quinn gave a sleepy smile as she walked between them and out the door...and kept walking. She turned to her right toward the hallway.

Someone grabbed her shoulder. "Not that way." It was the heavy nurse. "The lounge is over here."

"That's okay," Quinn said, shrugging off the hand. "I don't feel like talking anymore."

"Wait—!"

Quinn pulled away and began running down the hall, ignoring the shouts behind her as she headed for the exit stairs. She could see the door was still propped open by her coat and she complimented herself on her foresight. She was scared, but her adrenalin was flowing now and she knew she could outdistance either of the nurses here in the hall. Before they could phone the lobby and get security moving, she ought to be down the stairs, out into the snow, and pelting across campus toward the dorm. Once back in her room, she'd barricade the door and call the sheriff's office. She'd blow the lid off Ward C and expose everybody involved in this horror and then Tim would be free and they'd be together once more and she wouldn't care if she never saw The Ingraham again.

She was half way there when the door opened the rest of the way and a blond man stepped over her coat and into the hall. Quinn recognized him immediately as someone from campus security—the one she and Tim had seen in the parking lot before leaving for Atlantic City last month.

His sudden grin had a nasty twist to it. "Well, well, well. I've been looking for you, sweetheart."

Quinn's sneakers squeaked as she skidded into a turn and ran the other way. The heavyset nurse had been close behind her but Quinn's sudden change in direction took her by surprise and she slipped and fell. Quinn dodged around her and headed back the way she had come.

Panic was beginning to crowd her now, nipping at her heels. She wouldn't make it into the stairwell at the other end of the hall. She'd have to use her card to unlock it and the blond guy would be all over her while she was trying to get it into the slot. Maybe the lab—

As she passed Ward C again she spotted the little lounge behind the nurses station. Maybe she could lock herself in there, and if they had a phone...

But the thin, dark-haired nurse was at the station, on the phone, undoubtedly to security. When she saw Quinn coming, she dropped the receiver and moved to intercept her. Quinn didn't think she could duck around the nurse so she barreled right into her, sending her flying backward into the meds cart, knocking it over. She had a brief glimpse of the bottles and syringes flying off the top, smashing on the floor, the drawers below falling open, spilling their contents, adding more liquid and broken glass to the mess, then she ducked into the lounge, slammed the door behind her, and locked it.

She whirled, found the phone, lifted the receiver, hit 9, then dialed 4-1-1. If only she'd thought to memorize the number of the sheriff's office.

She got a busy signal. How could Information be busy at this hour?

As fists began pounding on the door, she hung up and tried again, only this time she listened after she hit the 9 for an outside line: busy signal. Someone in security had blocked phone access to the outside.

A heavy weight slammed against the door. The molding by the doorknob cracked.

Quinn began to shake. Her stomach hurt. She was trapped. And she was going to end up like Tim, she knew it.

Another slam against the door, a bigger crack in the molding. Desperate now, ready to try anything, she jumped up, twisted the lock switch in the doorknob to the off position, turned the knob ever so slightly to free the latch, then stepped aside, flattening herself against the wall just to the right of the knob.

The door slammed open with a violence that almost ripped it off its hinges as the blond man hurtled into the room, out of control, stumbling wildly.

Quinn was on her way out the door immediately. She didn't see him land, but heard the crash of tumbling furniture, then groans and angry curses behind her as she dashed once more into the hall. The two nurses were there, blocking her way, their eyes wide with surprise at the sight of her. They clutched at her arms but she shook them off and darted behind the station counter, taking the longer, flanking route to the hall. She would have made it, too, if her sneaker hadn't slipped on the wet floor. She prevented a fall by grabbing the counter, but the delay gave the heavy nurse a chance to reach the other end of the station and cut her off.

As Quinn straightened she noticed three fist-sized multi-dose bottles of a clear liquid near her right hand. She grabbed one and flung it at the big nurse. It struck her in the shoulder, bounced off, and smashed. Quinn grabbed another, spun, and winged it at the thin nurse who deflected it with her hands. That too smashed. Quinn turned again and threw the last at the heavy nurse who ducked. It sailed over her head and shattered against the far wall. Before the nurse could straighten, Quinn was past her and again sprinting down the hall.