Page 23 of Redemption

The public declaration of my illness must be code to set something else in motion. But what? I hate being on the outside looking in. If they’d let me in on the chaos to come, I could’ve helped make it better. Or worse. I might have made it worse. I stifle my chuckle as I step into the infirmary.

“I’ll be staying with you to make sure we get that fever looked after.” His tone is bland.

From my own various exploits, I realize keeping calm and indifferent is the best way to avoid suspicion. Isn’t that how Kimi defeated me in my organization? No matter what I threw at her, she never lost her cool. Titanium nerves. It’s weird to be on this side of the action. To know beyond a doubt something is coming and to have no idea what will happen. I like it better when I’m the spider, not the fly.

The nurse nods to me on the way past, and her gaze is wary. Is she in on it? Or do I make her nervous? We walk along empty beds until we get to one near the fire escape. In theory, that exit should lead to another fenced area.

“How are you feeling, Donaghey?” the guard asks, leaning against the wall.

“Like there’s darkness all around me, and I want someone to throw me a flashlight.”

“Not sure the nurse has anything to cure that.”

“She isn’t the woman I want playing nursemaid.” Not that she’s come over. Considering I’m the only prisoner here, she must be in on it too.

The guard checks his watch and moves to block the emergency exit. The nurse ambles over with a clipboard pressed to her chest. She crouches in front of me, a thermometer in her hand. “Under your tongue.”

I open my mouth for her to slip the cool metal between my lips.

“There are cameras in here,” she says, looking at her chart. “But no sound. Privacy rules.” She gives me a wry smile. “In a minute or two an alarm is going to ring. You’ll have thirty seconds to make it from the door the guard is blocking to the roof.”

“If I don’t get to the roof in the thirty seconds?” I ask around for the thermometer.

It beeps, and she removes it to scribble bullshit on her chart. “You’ll remain locked in the prison. Your friends might still be able to get you out, but you’ll be wasting valuable time.”

Bowl over the guard, take the stairs to the roof. Was it really that simple? “What’s on the roof?”

“With any luck?” She rises and crosses the room. “Your friends with a helicopter.”

My body tightens in response to the quick timeline. My ability to sprint isn’t what it used to be thanks to being in here. For some reason, security frowns on sudden bouts of running. She comes back holding a small cup of pills, but before she can pass them to me, the alarm blares so sharp and sudden she jumps, dropping the plastic cup.

Without hesitating, I lunge off the bed and tackle the guard, sending him flying through the fire exit and into the concrete hallway. His head cracks against the ground. The injury will help him keep his job, assuming he’s still alive. Ahead is the way out into the fenced yard. Red lights flash in a pattern in the corridor and the stairwell. I take the stairs to the right two at a time.

When I get to the top, I wrench on the door handle. It doesn’t budge, and having expected it to be unlocked, I applied too much force. My wrist aches, and I shake out my hand, searching the walls for a key or a way to bypass the lock. They’ve left me nothing?

Thiswas their plan?

My heart thuds through quicksand.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ramming my shoulder into the door repeatedly doesn’t move it. Even though I’m sure I’ve got nothing on me to jimmy the lock, I still pat myself. At the bottom of the stairs, the door to the clinic swings open, and a flurry of voices rises over the sirens.

“Donaghey,” a guard calls from below. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”

They’re not kidding. With the flashing strobe lights and the number of stairs, I wonder whether they can see me. There are so many voices echoing. Are they here or on the radio? I shuffle to the corner of the wall closest to the door handle. When the light flashes, none of it catches me. They’ll have to come up here for me, and I’m not making it easy. It’s a narrow stairwell. They’ll have to be single file. Take one down, and they’ll fall like dominoes.

“Donaghey,” the guard calls. “We know you’re up there.”

Do they? They know I went up here, but unless they’ve been able to check the cameras, they can’t be sure whether I got out. Shouldn’t the guard I knocked over be helping me escape?

“I need a medic and backup,” somebody calls on his radio.

Ah. The other guard is still unconscious. Where’d the nurse go if they’re after a medic?

His foot hits the bottom stair, and I tense for battle. Seems he’s on his own. Even easier.

The door behind me pops open, and when it swings back, I almost sag with relief until the lights flash red, and the guard draws his gun.

“Look out!” I holler.

Whoever opened the door lets it partially close, and the guard’s firearm discharges. The bullet pings off the metal surface, and I slip out the half-open door before he can get off another shot.

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