Chapter 7 - The Veterinary Clinic
Carter stood in the doorway, blocking our only path to safety.
His designer clothes were wrinkled, and a dark bruise was forming on his jaw.
"You really thought you could hide at the vet's office?" Carter sneered.
"Thomas tracked your stolen truck's license plate using the highway cameras."
He stepped toward us, the bloody scalpel gleaming under the porch light.
"Where is Dr. Miller?" I demanded, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"The old man tried to be a hero," Carter laughed coldly.
"He is taking a nap in one of the dog kennels right now."
Maya stepped in front of me, shielding both me and her daughter.
"If you hurt Lily, I swear I will kill you myself," Maya threatened.
Carter rolled his eyes and took another menacing step forward.
"You are not a killer, Maya, but I am," he replied.
"Hand over the baby, and I might let you and the old hag walk away."
I looked around the desolate parking lot for any sign of a weapon.
Next to the clinic door was a heavy, red fire extinguisher mounted to the brick wall.
I caught Maya's eye and subtly nodded toward the red cylinder.
Maya understood instantly.
She threw her heavy diaper bag directly at Carter's face.
As he raised his arms to block the bag, Maya grabbed the fire extinguisher.
She pulled the metal pin and squeezed the handle with all her strength.
A massive cloud of white chemical foam blasted directly into Carter's face.
He screamed in agony, dropping the scalpel as he blindly clawed at his eyes.
"Run!" Maya shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside the clinic.
We rushed past the reception desk and locked the heavy security door behind us.
The clinic was quiet, smelling of antiseptic and wet dog fur.
We found Dr. Miller unconscious but breathing in one of the large holding pens.
Maya quickly moved to the surgical table and laid Lily down under the bright lights.
"I need to stitch this wound, but I am not a doctor," Maya panicked.
"I was a combat nurse in the sixties, Maya," I told her, stepping up to the table.
"Find me a surgical needle, sterile thread, and some iodine."
Maya frantically searched the medical cabinets while I unwrapped the bloody gauze.
Lily's small abdomen was bruised, but the cut was clean and manageable.
Maya handed me the supplies, her hands shaking violently.
I took a deep breath, steadying my aged hands through sheer willpower.
I quickly sterilized the wound and began closing the torn stitches.
Suddenly, the screeching of tires echoed from the parking lot outside.
Heavy boots hit the pavement, followed by the sound of glass shattering.
A voice echoed through the clinic's loudspeaker system.
May you like
"There is nowhere left to run, ladies," a terrifyingly smooth voice announced.
"I am the buyer, and I have come to collect my merchandise personally."
