Chapter 3 - The Hallway Stalkers
"Under the bed. Now," Sarah ordered, her gentle pediatric demeanor vanishing beneath an iron grip of survival instinct. She hoisted Lily from the gurney and pushed her into the recessed space beneath the treatment cart, draping a heavy green utility sheet over the opening.
Mark moved toward the bay curtain just as a gloved hand ripped it off its aluminum runner. A tall man with a jagged scar dividing his left eyebrow stepped through, flanked by a burly companion wearing a utility vest. Neither of them carried hospital badges. The scarred man held a silenced tactical sidearm tucked against his thigh.
"Where is the package, Doctor?" the scarred man asked. His accent was thick, Slavic, devoid of emotion.
"Security has been alerted," Dr. Gable said, standing tall between the intruder and the examination bed. "You are trespassing in a secure trauma bay. Step back."
The scarred man didn't blink. He raised the weapon, pointing the barrel straight at Gable's forehead. "You have five seconds to hand over the boots, old man. Or the girl’s medical chart becomes a death certificate."
From beneath the drape, Lily let out a stifled, shuddering gasp. Mark saw the scarred man's eyes flicker down toward the green sheet. Driven by blind paternal fury, Mark lunged, grabbing an aluminum IV stand and swinging it like a baseball bat directly into the gunman’s shoulder.
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The shot went wide, punching a silent hole through the cardiac monitor, spraying sparks and white smoke into the room.
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