Chapter 3 - The Escape Plan
My fingers tightly gripped the small, heavy burner phone hidden beneath the hospital blanket.
The ambulance ride was a blur of agonizing bumps and blinding streetlights flashing through the windows.
I was wheeled into the chaotic emergency room under the strict supervision of the armed deputy.
They placed me in a secluded trauma bay, pulling the thick privacy curtain shut to isolate me.
The deputy stood directly outside the curtain, his heavy boots visible beneath the hem of the fabric.
I waited until the nurses finished taking my initial x-rays and left me alone to wait for the orthopedic surgeon.
With trembling hands, I pulled the burner phone from under the covers and held down the power button.
There was only one contact saved in the device, listed simply as The Fixer.
I pressed the call button and pressed the phone tightly against my ear, praying the deputy would not hear.
The line clicked open immediately, and a deep, unfamiliar voice spoke in a hushed tone.
"Are you secured in the trauma bay?" the voice asked sharply.
"Yes, but there is a police officer right outside the curtain," I whispered back, terrified.
"We know, your father is handling the legal interference as we speak," the man assured me.
"The doctor coming to treat you is a man named Dr. Evans, and he is deeply in debt to your husband."
My stomach dropped as I realized the depths of David's sinister preparations.
"He has been instructed to inject you with a heavy dose of experimental antipsychotics," the voice warned.
"They are going to use the medical records to prove you are mentally unfit to keep custody of Emma."
Tears streamed down my face as the horrific reality of the trap closed in around me.
"What do I do?" I begged, gripping the hospital bedrails tightly.
"When the doctor enters, you must refuse all medication and demand a blood test in front of the deputy."
Before I could ask another question, the heavy privacy curtain was violently ripped open.
A tall doctor with cold, dead eyes stepped into the small room holding a massive syringe filled with cloudy liquid.
He locked the wheels on my bed and smiled a terrifying, predatory smile.
"Time to calm your nerves, Sarah," Dr. Evans said, stepping toward my IV line.
Without thinking, I grabbed the heavy metal bedpan from the side table and smashed it directly into his wrist.
The syringe flew across the room and shattered against the linoleum floor.
The deputy rushed into the room, his hand reaching instinctively for his taser.
Before he could draw his weapon, a team of five men in expensive dark suits flooded into the tiny trauma bay.
The man leading the group flashed a federal badge directly in the shocked deputy's face.
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"FBI," the tall agent announced loudly, making the entire emergency room fall completely silent.
"We are taking federal custody of this patient, because her husband just put a one-million-dollar bounty on her head."
