Chapter 7 - The Empty Bed
The rain fell in sheets as the armored SUV pulled up to the emergency entrance of St. Jude's hospital.
Gabriel stepped out of the vehicle, concealing a submachine gun beneath a heavy trench coat.
Clare followed him closely, gripping the cold metal of the pistol in her coat pocket.
The bright fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby felt violently harsh after the darkness of the night.
Gabriel flashed a fake federal badge at the security guard, bypassing the metal detectors without a word.
They took the elevator to the intensive care floor in complete, suffocating silence.
When the doors slid open, Clare instantly knew something was catastrophically wrong.
The nurses' station was entirely empty, the computer screens left blinking in the quiet hallway.
A sterile medical cart had been violently overturned, spilling bandages and syringes across the linoleum floor.
Clare broke into a desperate sprint, running down the hall toward her sister's private room.
She slammed the door open, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The medical monitors were screaming a continuous, flatline alarm.
But the hospital bed was completely empty.
The bedsheets were torn, and the IV lines had been ripped out, dripping clear fluid onto the floor.
Clare dropped to her knees, letting out a shattered, agonizing scream that echoed down the empty corridor.
Gabriel stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene with cold precision.
He noticed a small, black burner phone resting perfectly in the center of the bloodstained pillow.
Gabriel picked it up just as the screen illuminated with an incoming call.
May you like
He pressed the answer button and put the phone to his ear.
The voice on the other end laughed, promising to send her sister back in pieces.
