Page 7 of Save Me

By the time the pathetically slow elevator makes it to the second floor, and the doors reopen, I’ve cursed in several languages and slipped into the lab coat. I use my reflection in the metallic control panel to check my appearance, smoothing my hair into place, somehow calming my racing heart, and exit the elevator at a normal pace. Oliver’s room is on the left at the end of the corridor, so I scope out the surroundings as I stride forward like I belong there while trying to avoid eye contact with the few nurses I see. There’s a stairwell straight ahead, and a security guard next to it, just outside Oliver’s door. He looks tired and not completely alert, which makes me angry, but I ignore it for now.

I’m halfway to Oliver’s room when a supply room door on my right is yanked open, and a man raises his arm and aims a gun at me. Everything slows to a crawl. Crystal clear, I can see the man’s finger on the trigger, and am aware my time is up. Surprisingly, I’m not upset. It’s not how I wanted things to happen, but it was always a possibility, and everyone I care about is, or soon will be, permanently out of my life. I have no one to blame but myself. Absently, I wonder if I have time to dive out of the way just as a shot is fired from further down the hall. The gunman ducks back into the room.

Time snaps back to regular speed, and I don’t stop to see how things turn out. I sprint down the hallway, shoving open the heavy emergency door to the stairwell, bouncing off walls as I careen around the corners, tearing off the lab coat as I go. I make it to the bottom and body slam the exit door open, triggering the alarm. I’m not worried about it. The stairwell empties into the parking lot near the emergency entrance, and I sprint across the driveway, leaping over the small fence at the edge of the lot, dodging between cars. My key fob is in my hand and I jam my thumb against the automatic starter and the unlock buttons as I race to my car. I fling myself behind the wheel, and my tires screech as I throw the car into reverse and hit the gas. I swing wide, almost hitting a vehicle behind me, then slam the transmission into drive and peel out of the lot.

I’m not sure where I’m going. I hadn’t thought past getting away from the hospital and now the panic is setting in. What should I do? Where should I go? I have no idea how to deal with this kind of situation and there’s no one here I can trust to help me. Then I realize that isn’t true. There’s a well-worn business card in my wallet, given to me on the steps of the courthouse just before I testified for the last time. It’s a bit tattered from the number of times I’ve taken it out to stare at it. I dig it out of my wallet and dial the number on my phone, then press the call button. The sound of ringing fills the car and I wait anxiously for the call to be answered. Please, please, please pick up!

The click of the call connecting has me holding my breath. “Hello?” I manage a bark of laughter that ends in a sob of relief.

“Jamie.” I thought I’d never hear his warm baritone again. A wave of comfort envelops me like a warm blanket. “Jamie, I need help.” I’m amazed at how even my voice sounds. Internally I’m reeling.

“Ashley?” His surprise is almost immediately replaced by the professional tone I recall so well. “Tell me your situation in as few words as possible.” His commanding voice is no nonsense and fills me with confidence that I may get out of this mess.

I take a breath. Where do I begin? “The cartel found me. I went to see Oliver Laszlo, but they were waiting for me. I ran, and now I’m driving.”

“Where are you?”

That’s an excellent question. I glance around and see my surroundings clearly for the first time since getting back in my car. “I’m still near the university, headed north on the Five. I panicked and just got back on the highway in whatever direction was most convenient.”

“It’s alright. Calm down and focus on driving. We don’t need to deal with a traffic accident too.” Oh gods, that would be terrible. I grip the wheel more tightly and glance around, doing my best defensive driving. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. Shaken up, but not injured.” I hear his sigh of relief and I’m elated that my safety is still important to him. He doesn’t say anything more, though, and I worry we’ve been disconnected. “Jamie?”

“I’m here, Ashley. Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Keep going north on I-5 for about an hour. Get off in Burlington and meet me in the parking lot of the Navy Recruiting Center on route 20. If it seems like someone’s following you, go inside and tell the recruiter what’s going on. I’ll meet you in Burlington.”

“Thanks, Jamie.”

“Don’t thank me yet. And when I see you, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

* * *

Jamie

I shove myself to my feet and dial Duncan’s number as I drop the damp towel to the floor and pull on a pair of boxer briefs. Instead of the suit I was planning to wear to work, I grab my old comfortable jeans and a short-sleeved aqua blue T-shirt, struggling into them as I balance my phone between my shoulder and ear. When Duncan answers the phone, the scowl is clear in his voice. “What couldn’t wait until I’ve had coffee?”

I pull on a thick pair of socks and then my Tims. “Morning, Sunshine. I have to go out of town. I can’t tell you much more right now.” I carefully tuck clothing into an old army duffel that used to be my dad’s.

“You want me to tell Mayhugh.” It’s not a question. Duncan’s annoyed, though it’s sometimes difficult to tell with him since he always sounds annoyed. I’ve known him long enough to tell his usual grumbling from his truly pissed-off grumbling. He’s earned this one, though. Benita Mayhugh is our Supervisory Deputy Marshal and hates not knowing things as much as she hates breaking rules. I’d be annoyed if I had to pass the message along to her.

“Duncan, you really need to learn to express yourself more. All this bottling up of emotion isn’t good for you.”

He snorts. “Fuck off.”

I laugh. “Look, she’s gonna grill you for details, which is another reason I’m not telling you anything yet. You can’t get in trouble if you don’t know what I’m up to. But I promise you, I will fill you in as soon as I can.”

His bark of laughter tells me exactly what Duncan thinks of that. “Do I already know what this is about, Jamie?” Fuck him. He knows there’s only one thing I wouldn’t tell him about immediately.

“Yeah, probably. But the less you can confirm, the better. Just buy me a few days. Please?” I grab my old analog watch out of my top drawer and make sure it’s still working before I strap it around my wrist.

“Will do. Anything else?”

Trying to plan for any number of possible scenarios has me hesitating to make any requests, but it’s better to be prepared. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, right? “Wouldn’t hurt to give Volker a call. I might need some help soon.”

“Call Volker about nothing. Got it.” He hesitates, and then his tone changes to one of begrudging concern. “Watch your back. Call me when you can.” Duncan hangs up and I immediately start moving, putting clothes and toiletries into the duffel, adding a flashlight, a box of matches, my old compass, a hunting knife, spare ammo, and a small first aid kit, before zipping it closed and slinging it over my shoulder. I glance around the place to make sure I haven’t missed anything, grab my gun, wallet, and keys, and head out the door.

3

Ash

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