Chapter 3 - The Escape
The soldier's words chilled me to the absolute core.
I kept the heavy rifle aimed directly at his chest while keeping myself positioned between him and the door.
"Come here, Chloe," I ordered, never taking my eyes off the men in black armor.
Chloe ran to me quickly, burying her tear-stained face into the fabric of my coat.
I backed slowly out of the examination room, dragging my daughter into the chaotic hospital corridor.
Alarms were blaring loudly, painting the white hallways in flashing red emergency lights.
Nurses and patients were screaming, scrambling into empty rooms to hide from the armed men.
I knew we could not leave through the main lobby, as there would undoubtedly be more soldiers waiting there.
I remembered the hospital layout from when Chloe was born here seven years ago.
"We are going to the laundry chute, baby," I whispered to her.
We sprinted down a deserted service hallway, the heavy combat boots of the soldiers echoing behind us.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door to the utility room and shoved the rifle underneath a shelf.
I opened the large metal hatch of the laundry chute and carefully lowered Chloe down onto the soft pile of dirty linens inside.
"Slide all the way to the bottom, I will be right behind you," I told her.
She nodded bravely, disappearing into the dark metal tunnel.
I climbed in after her, the cold steel sliding against my back as I plummeted into the basement.
We landed safely in a massive canvas cart filled with hospital gowns and bedsheets.
The basement was entirely dark, smelling strongly of industrial bleach and damp concrete.
I pulled Chloe out of the cart and hurried toward the exit doors leading to the underground parking garage.
My car was still upstairs, but I spotted a hospital security vehicle idling near the exit ramp.
The driver side door was open, and the engine was running, but the guard was nowhere to be seen.
I shoved Chloe into the back seat and climbed behind the steering wheel, throwing the car into drive.
I slammed my foot onto the gas pedal, smashing through the wooden exit barrier and speeding out into the freezing afternoon air.
For a moment, I actually believed we had escaped the nightmare.
Then, I heard a slow, rhythmic clapping coming from the passenger seat.
I slammed on the brakes, turning my head in absolute terror.
Sitting perfectly still in the passenger seat was Mr. Davis, Chloe's second-grade homeroom teacher.
He was holding a glowing silver syringe filled with a thick, pulsating black liquid.
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"You are a very impressive mother, Sarah," he smiled, but his eyes were completely dead.
"But school is not dismissed yet."
