Chapter 42
Alicia
Hospitals always had this strange quiet at night, not peace, just the kind that felt like the air was holding its breath. I’d gotten used to that silence, the beeping monitors, the shuffle of nurses’ shoes down polished floors. But tonight, it felt heavier. Like the walls knew something I didn’t.
I was halfway through my rounds when my phone buzzed. Evans.
Just seeing his name made me stop in the middle of the corridor. I hadn’t seen my brother in almost two years, not since he left for the overseas trauma unit. I picked up instantly.
“Evans?”
“Hey, little sis,” he said, voice warm, familiar. “You sound the same.”
“Two years and that’s what you start with?” I laughed, though it came out shaky. “Where are you?”
“Somewhere near. I’ll come by soon, I promise.”
The promise hit me like a soft punch. “You said that the last time.”
“I mean it this time.”
I smiled faintly, leaning against the wall by the nurses’ station. “You better. Mom would’ve been proud to see you still saving the world.”
“Maybe. But she’d probably yell at me for missing your birthday again.”
“Definitely.”
He chuckled. “How’s work?”
“Busy. I’ve got a full ward tonight. You know how it gets.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.” There was something off in his tone, something that made my stomach twist. “Alicia...”
The intercom crackled overhead, cutting him off. “Nurse Collins to ICU. Stat.”
“Evans, I have to go,” I said quickly. “Call me in the morning, okay?”
“Yeah,” he said after a pause. “Be careful.”
The line went dead.
I slipped my phone into my coat pocket and hurried down the hall, my sneakers squeaking against the tile. The ICU lights were dimmed, machines humming softly. A patient had coded twice that night already,and I half-expected to walk into another crisis.
What I didn’t expect was Damon.
He was standing by the doorway, his suit jacket gone, shirt sleeves rolled up, a line of gauze peeking from under his arm. His presence filled the room instantly... steady, sharp, dangerous even in a place built for saving lives.
I froze. “Damon? What...what are you doing here?”
He turned at the sound of my voice. His eyes softened, just a little. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, crossing the room quickly. “You’re still healing, you need to rest...”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” I reached for his arm, but he stepped back.
“Alicia,” he said, voice low. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked past me toward the hallway. “I came to check on you. One of my men was tracking movement near the hospital...someone was tampering with the basement ventilation system.”
I frowned. “That makes no sense. The security team would’ve...”
“They didn’t catch it,” he cut in. “Whoever it was, they knew the layout.”
Before I could answer, a sharp beep echoed through the hallway. Then another. The fire alarm. I glanced toward the ceiling. No smoke. No visible fire. Just that shrill, steady sound that made every nerve in my body tighten.
“Damon…”
He was already moving. “We need to get people out.”
I ran after him as he pushed through the doors into the main corridor. Nurses were already looking around in confusion, patients murmuring from their rooms.
“It’s probably a drill,” one of them said.
“Drills don’t happen at midnight,” I muttered. “Go, move patients to the east wing, keep the ventilated ones connected.”
Damon’s hand brushed my shoulder. “You lead them out. I’ll check the source.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You’re not going down there alone.”
His jaw tightened. “I can handle myself.”
“You barely made it out last time,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “Don’t act like you’re invincible.”
He looked at me for a long second, then nodded once. “Fine. Stay close.”
We took the stairs two at a time. The deeper we went, the stronger the chemical tang in the air became. By the time we reached the basement level, I could smell it clearly... sharp, metallic, unnatural.
Damon pushed the door open, and a faint hiss filled the silence. Gas.
“Don’t breathe too deep,” he said, pulling the sleeve of his shirt over his nose. “Someone rigged the mainline.”
“Can you shut it off?”
“Maybe.” He crouched near the control panel, eyes scanning the tangled web of pipes and valves. “It’s not standard wiring. Someone rerouted the flow.”
The alarm blared louder, echoing through the concrete halls. Above us, I could hear footsteps and distant shouting. Nurses moving patients. Good. But the gas was spreading faster now.
“Damon, we need to go,” I urged.
“Almost there.” His hands moved quickly over the panel. “If I can divert pressure to—”
A sharp pop cut him off. Sparks flew. The lights flickered.
I stumbled back, coughing as the air grew thick, acrid. “Damon!”
He yanked the main valve hard, metal grinding under his grip. Then another pop — louder this time — and a burst of smoke shot out from the corner pipe.
“Move!” he shouted, grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward the stairs.
We barely made it two steps before a loud whoosh echoed behind us. The lights went out completely.
Panic tore through my chest. “Damon, I can’t see!”
“Stay close!” His voice was somewhere to my left. I reached out blindly until my fingers brushed his sleeve.
Then the emergency lights blinked on, painting everything in red. The smoke was thicker now, rolling down the hallway like a wave.
“What kind of gas is this?” I asked, covering my mouth. My lungs burned.
“Not natural,” he said grimly. “Too deliberate.”
We reached the stairwell, but when he tried the door, it wouldn’t budge.
“Locked from the outside.”
“Who would lock...”
“Someone who wants to keep us in.”
He stepped back and slammed his shoulder against the door once, twice. Metal groaned but held. I could hear people coughing above, the faint wails of patients still trapped on the upper floors.
“Damon, they’re still inside...”
“I know!” he barked, then pressed his forehead briefly against the door, thinking. “We can’t go up this way.”
“Then where?”
He turned, scanning the hall. “Maintenance access. East tunnel.”
We ran. My throat felt raw, eyes stinging. The further we went, the louder the hissing became. Damon kicked open a side door, and we stumbled into another narrow corridor lined with pipes.
He stopped suddenly.
“What?” I asked, breathless.
He lifted a hand, pointing ahead. A dark figure stood at the far end, backlit by the red lights.
“Nathan,” Damon muttered.
The man didn’t move at first. Then he tilted his head, slowly, deliberately.
Damon stepped forward. “What did you do?”
Nathan’s voice carried easily over the sound of the alarms. “Just cleaning up loose ends. You and your little doctor were starting to remember too much.”
“People are dying!” I shouted. “Turn it off!”
He smiled faintly. “That’s the point.”
Damon lunged forward, but Nathan disappeared into the haze before he could reach him.
“Damon!” I grabbed his arm. “We have to go! Now!”
He hesitated, torn between chasing him and getting us out. Then another explosion rocked the building, throwing us both off our feet.
My head hit the floor hard, ears ringing. Damon pulled me up, coughing, shouting something I could barely hear over the alarms.
Through the smoke, I saw the faint outline of the maintenance door ahead — and the gas lines glowing faintly from the heat.
“Damon,” I gasped, “it’s going to blow...”
The hallway trembled, a low rumble rising under our feet.
He grabbed me, pulling me close. “Run!”
We sprinted, lungs burning, vision swimming. I could feel the pressure building behind us, the heat crawling closer and then everything went white.