Chapter 7 - The Desperate Escape
The first guard lunged forward, swinging the crackling electric baton at my ribs.
I ducked beneath the swing, driving my shoulder hard into his stomach.
He stumbled backward, crashing into the heavy medical carts and sending trays of equipment clattering to the floor.
I grabbed the heavy metal IV pole next to Emma's bed and swung it like a baseball bat.
The heavy steel base struck the second guard squarely in the jaw, knocking him completely unconscious.
Vanessa shrieked and ran out of the room, desperate to find more help.
I threw the metal pole aside and carefully scooped my sleeping daughter into my arms.
She was so incredibly light, her small head resting heavily against my bruised shoulder.
I climbed back out through the shattered window, protecting her face from the jagged glass.
Alarms began blaring across the entire compound, bathing the manicured gardens in flashing red light.
I sprinted across the wet grass, my lungs burning with every desperate breath.
I knew I could not climb back over the high brick wall while holding Emma.
I ran toward the main delivery gate, praying the electronic lock had been disengaged for the night shift.
A black SUV suddenly turned the corner, its high beams blinding me in the dark.
The vehicle skidded to a halt, blocking my path entirely.
The driver’s side door flew open.
It was Greg, Vanessa’s husband, stepping out into the freezing night air.
I braced myself for another fight, tightening my grip on my daughter.
Greg threw his hands up in the air, frantically waving for me to stop.
He unlocked the rear doors of the SUV and yelled for me to get inside immediately.
He told me he had just seen the kitchen video and realized his wife’s family were absolute monsters.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, torn between sheer paranoia and desperate necessity.
The shouts of approaching security guards echoed from the gardens behind me.
I threw myself into the backseat of Greg's car, sheltering Emma on my lap.
Greg slammed the accelerator to the floor, crashing the heavy vehicle entirely through the wooden security gates.
We tore down the suburban highway, leaving the flashing lights of the clinic far behind us.
I finally allowed myself to cry, tears soaking into Emma’s hospital gown.
I thanked Greg for saving our lives, calling him the only decent person left in that family.
Greg looked at me through the rearview mirror, his expression completely blank.
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He pressed a button on his dashboard, and the rear doors locked with a heavy, metallic click.
He told me he didn't care about my life, he only cared about getting his hands on the original copy of the kitchen video.
