by Amy Miles
“That was your mom on the phone. She explained everything to me.” The chick leaned forward and whispered, even though nobody else was in the room. “I didn’t believe Upland, Indiana really existed.”
That was the part she hadn’t bought? Why hadn’t I said Chicago or some other major city? “It’s a real place.”
“I know that now. She told me she paid for your flight.” Her face tweaked, and looked strained. “I’m really sorry about your hand, too. Please don’t call administration. Can I get you some ice?”
“No.” I looked at my fingers. They were red and swelling, but who cared? That phone call was perfect timing and I needed to take advantage.
Except, who could be pretending to be my mom? And how could she possibly know about Upland, Indiana?
“Okay, well, if there’s anything else I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She pressed a button and the door to the right of the counter made a loud buzzing sound. “Your sister’s in Room 215. Have a nice visit.”
“Right.” My feet felt like granite. I whipped my head over my shoulder. Nobody standing behind me. But someone knew about my charade. Bishop? Seemed unlikely. Surely this chick would know if it were a man on the phone faking a woman’s voice. She was certainly thorough and cautious. Who else could it be though?
The girl behind the counter gave me a weird look. “Are you going to go in or what?”
Good question. It could be a set up, but even so, Amanda needed my help. Her image flashed in my head, reminding me I didn’t have a choice. I had to go. “Yes, I’m going in,” I said, and tried to swallow the fear in my throat.
****
Somehow I managed to move my legs, open the door, and lift my feet up each stair until I reached the second floor. At the top of the stairs, I turned the handle on the door, hesitated, and then pulled it open—wondering what I’d find on the other side. Just a hospital corridor.
I hurried down the hall, passed a nurse’s station, and a grey-haired woman in blue scrubs nodded and smiled at me. Oh, good. Someone to hear me scream and call 911 when I got attacked by my faux-mom. Yeah, I’d faked being a sister, but I’d thought it was just me in on the charade. Who’d joined in?
Scanning the numbers on each room, I edged down the hall, closer and closer to room 215. Amanda’s room appeared normal enough. Cheap wood with numbers. No signs of anything scary. A small placard on the wall held a white piece of paper with the name Amanda Walker typed in capital letters. Not exactly discreet. Where was the security Trip had assured me Sac PD would have? That elderly nurse so did not count.
My heart beat frantically in my chest. Time to go in.
Taking a breath, I knocked with a shaky hand, chastising myself for taking volleyball instead of self-defense in P.E.
The door creaked open slowly as if by itself. Nobody greeted me.
I peeked in, scanning the room. Fluorescent ceiling lights were off. A soft bulb over a white sink created a dim aura. A rose-colored privacy curtain was half closed in front of me, blocking full view of the single bed, which sat against the far wall. A small body lay there under a plain white blanket. I could hear a steady beep, beep, beep.
Amanda.
Clearly this was her room. Right? I mean, the placard on the door said it was and the chick at the front desk had it in her file as 215. It couldn’t be wrong. We all knew what an excellent typist she was. But, I couldn’t deny the fact that the door had opened by itself. That was so not normal. rr
The sane part of me wanted to bolt for the stairs. I mean, what if Bishop was hiding behind the door, waiting for just the right moment to slice my head off?
My heart pounded, my hands shook, but I wrapped my hand around the door handle and quickly flung it back.
A white form lunged at me. “Boo!”
My hands flew up, batting frantically at the image, as if a flock of pigeons had attacked me. “Aghh!”
Laughter erupted. Not sick, evil, laughter. More like hysterical giggling. “The look on your face is priceless.” It was the iPod girl from the emergency room. Her heavily black-lined eyes mocked me. “This is a hospital room, not the Winchester Mystery House. Lighten up.”
In all my sixteen years, I’d never hit anyone. Never even wanted to. But, if there was ever a time for violence, this had to be it. My fist raised in the air. “Why, you . . .”
“Drew!” Behind my nemesis, a door opened to what appeared to be a small bathroom and I could hear a toilet flushing. “That wasn’t the least bit amusing.” A woman pushed past Drew, giving her a stern look. “I apologize on behalf of my niece. This is certainly not the proper way for us all to meet. You must be Kylie.” She held a hand out in formal greeting. “I’m Lynn. Amanda’s mom.”
My heart pounded. How’d she know my name? She also looked familiar, like I’d seen her before. I reached my right hand out politely.
Lynn had held out her left arm so I switched to my left hand. Odd. I’d never had someone shake with that hand before. Except when I tried to read my dad. And failed. Just like I failed to read Lynn’s mind, too. Was it coincidence that Amanda’s mom was a lefty? Or was she on to my ability? I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry to come here so late, but I was worried about Amanda. How’s she doing?”
“Better.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks to you.”
My shoulder went numb. Sam had given his word that he wouldn’t let anyone know about my involvement. Surely that included Amanda’s family. But who else could’ve told her? Amanda? She’d been unconscious. “Well, uh, I’m a friend of . . .” My mind went blank. Who? Sam? Blondie Cop?
“We know who you are.” My nemesis, aka: Drew, shut the door to the hospital room, and leaned back against it. “You’re Amanda’s sister. Flew all the way from Upland, Indiana. Right?”
I watched Goth Girl burst out laughing again. Then, I remembered her smirk as she passed by me downstairs with a cell phone. It clicked. “You’re the one who called that chick in the emergency room and told her to let me in. Aren’t you?”
She shook her head with a grin. “Nah. That girl might’ve seen the outside number and known something was up. She wasn’t that much of a moron, after all.” She laughed again. “I phoned Lynn, and one of the nurses let her call down from her station to say you were Amanda’s sister. Then, after you went through the door, I took the elevator up ahead of you.”
“Very clever,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I was grateful she’d helped me out, but scaring the living daylights out of me didn’t exactly make me her new best friend. I glared at her.
Why were they trying to help me see Amanda anyway? It was the middle of the night. Way after visiting hours. And it’s not like they know more than my name. Had Sam told her? I didn’t think he would but if my own father was a liar, why should I trust some cop I’d known only two days?
Lynn dropped her hand from my shoulder. “Excuse Drew. She has a knack for inappropriate behavior. Would you like to see Amanda?”
My eyes flew to the bed sheet, where short legs lay still beneath it. My mouth went dry as I nodded. “Thanks.”
“I’m going for a walk. Been cooped up in this domicile way too long.” Drew reached around me for the door handle. “It was nice meeting you, cousin.” She winked at me with a charcoal-lined eye and whisked out the door.
I frowned.
As soon as the door clicked closed, the energy in the room fizzled. It was quiet, dim, and I could hear the beep, beep, beep coming from Amanda’s bedside again. It’s a wonder all the commotion hadn’t disturbed her. We hadn’t heard a peep the entire time. I remembered the blood on her temple and panicked, thinking she may have slipped into a coma. “Is Amanda . . .?”
Lynn put a hand on my arm. “She’s sleeping. The nurse gave her something to help her relax. She was agitated earlier, which is completely understandable considering the circumstances.”
“Of course.” I thought back to yesterday—the little girl who looked like me had been uncons
cious. In the dim light, I turned to Amanda’s mom and studied her for the first time.
Brown, limp hair, tucked behind her ears. Hazel eyes. Button nose. My hair was a little lighter, but my face was the spitting image of a younger version. So many questions swam through my brain, but this wasn’t the time to ask them.
“Here.” Lynn pushed the curtain aside, and gestured toward Amanda’s bed. “I’ll let you two have a moment alone. She shouldn’t wake up, but I’ll be right outside the door if you need me. She . . .” Lynn’s eyes teared up, “asked for you earlier.” She put a hand to her mouth, then waved at the air in front of her eyes and gestured to the door in jerky movements. “I’ll be right outside if you need me. Take your time.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I turned toward Amanda, pushed past the rose-colored curtain, and took step by step toward the hospital bed.
I pulled a chair up beside her, sat down and reached for her hand, careful not to disturb the IV. Amanda’s blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her cheeks had regained some color since yesterday. I thought about how she’d asked for me and wondered how she even knew who I was? “It’s Kylie, Amanda. I’m here with you.”
I rubbed her sweet, soft little fingers, knowing she would’ve died if I hadn’t read Bishop’s mind, and found her when we did. A light bulb went off in my head. Trip had suggested there might be a reason I’d developed this ability. Maybe this was it. To help Amanda.
But, what if my nightmare had been a premonition? Would Bishop get to us? For now though, she appeared safe. I envied that she had Lynn to take care of her. My mom was dead. My dad was a liar. I was alone.
Although . . . I reached out and fingered one of the bright blonde curls. I wasn’t entirely alone. Sitting in the softly lit room, listening to the rhythmic beep, beep, beep of the IV machine, the unanswered questions didn’t haunt me as much.
Buzzing invaded my ears, inner ear tickling so hard it hurt. Call security!
Startled, I flipped my head around, surveying the desolate room. Nothing. Hmm. Maybe the TV next door? I glanced at the clock—a little after one in the morning—and figured I could’ve been daydreaming. Or nightdreaming. Not just plain dreaming though, since I wasn’t asleep, right? A straight “A” student should probably know this, but grades seemed so unimportant to me now.
A few weeks ago I was a regular teen who wanted more than anything to be Joel Templeton’s girl. Now, I was a mind reader who’d snuck out in the middle of the night to visit a young child in the hospital, hearing voices . . .
Vibrations flooded my ears. Get Lynn, get Amanda, and get out now!
Fear crawled up my shoulder. No way that female voice in my head could’ve been the TV next door. Way too specific. Plus, my ears felt like they were going to pop even though, technically, I hadn’t heard the words aloud. Now I was freaked. I quickly placed Amanda’s hand back on the bed, and hurried to the door.
Lynn slunk down in a chair just outside Amanda’s room, a coffee cup in hand, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She looked up at me and smiled. “I’m glad you’re here, Kylie.”
I didn’t know how to answer that, but couldn’t think about it right now anyway. “Um, this is gonna sound really paranoid, but. . . ” I closed my eyes, hoping she didn’t call the nurse and demand I seek counseling. “A voice just told me to get you and Amanda and get out. It sounded kind of urgent.”
Lynn jumped to her feet and her eyes darted around us as if in panic.
All was quiet and I started to feel dumb. “I know it sounds loony and you probably don’t believe me but—”
“Unhook Amanda from her IV. Fast.” Lynn pointed toward room 215. “I’ll call for security.”
My heart raced. She didn’t think I was crazy? That was good. And bad. I mean, if I wasn’t losing my mind then I was probably in serious danger right about now.
Chapter Eight
My head filled with questions as I ran to Amanda’s room and flung open the door. Was Bishop here? To finish what he’d started? And whose voice had warned me?
Instead of unhooking Amanda, something made me reach for the plastic phone on the tray table. I pulled the piece of paper from my jeans pocket, read the numbers, and called Trip’s cell phone.
Busy signal.
No, no, no. How could a cell phone be busy? It should’ve gone to voicemail. Maybe Trip was out of range.
I glared at the phone. Neatly typed on a white sticker were instructions to dial 9 and then press # for an outside phone call. “Oh, man. There is so not time to waste on extra buttons.”
With shaky fingers, I hung up, lifted the receiver, dialed 9, #, and Trip’s cell. It rang twice and I willed him to pick up.
He finally answered in a groggy voice. “Hello?”
“Trip? It’s Kylie. Kylie Bates. You were at my apartment earlier?” Boy, did I sound lame or what? “You gave me your cell number and said to call if I ever needed to. Well, I’m at Marmaduke Medical Center with Amanda. Room 215. We’re in trouble.”
I could hear muffled movements. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not exactly sure. It’s hard to explain.” He’d taken my mind reading ability fairly well . . . how would he do with me hearing voices? “I think it’s Bishop. Lynn and I are taking Amanda out of her room and heading down the stairs. We need help.”
Trip paused. “Take the elevator. Less likely he’d use that. Meet me out front. I’ll be there in five.”
Five minutes? He must live close. I wondered how far his place was from mine. Yeah, like now was the right time to be pondering this. Just as I set the phone back down, the door burst open.
I slammed my palm against my chest. “Aagh!”
Lynn and the nurse both jumped back, startled by my scream. Any more surprises like that and I’d keel over from a heart attack.
“The patient should not be moved.” The nurse used an annoying bossy tone as she trotted after Lynn, who in two swift movements had Amanda’s IV out and her sheets pulled back.
“I assure you, she’s perfectly safe here.” The nurse put her hands on her hips. “Why don’t I call the doctor? See if I can get you a sedative.”
Lynn ignored the nurse and hauled Amanda up in her arms. “Grab my purse, Kylie. There’s a switchblade on my keychain.”
I turned to Lynn and held my palms up. This was all too much to take. “Wait a minute. Switchblade?”
The nurse’s eyes widened and she took two steps back like we were the bad guys or something. “Perhaps we should just calm down and wait here for security.”
Wanting to go nowhere near a switchblade, I gestured to the nurse. “She may be prescription happy, but waiting doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Maybe we could shove something against the door?”
Lynn gave me a look that meant business, strode to the door, and nodded toward her purse again. “Get out the blade. Now, Kylie. A chair against the door won’t stop these guys.”
“There’s more than one guy?” My heart pounded in my chest. It had to be Bishop and the longhaired, tattooed guy. Maybe I did want that knife after all. My hands shook violently as I unzipped the leather bag in my hands and felt around inside. My fingers grasped a set of keys, removed them, and flipped the blade out. “Oh, geez. What now?”
Lynn took a breath. “The door. Open it, and make a run for the stairs.”
For some reason, I thought of Goth Girl. “This may sound kind of dumb, but do you think we should wait here for Drew?”
“Just go!” Lynn sounded like a general giving an order so I didn’t argue.
I flung open the door, blade held out, dancing wildly in front of me. Nobody there. I peered down the empty corridors as Lynn came out behind me, and headed left. “Wait!” Remembering what Trip had said, I moved right toward the elevators. “This way.”
Lynn’s footsteps pounded behind me as I ran down the hall like it was the 50-yard dash. She moved with lightening speed, impressive considering she was carrying Amanda—who was somehow sleeping through this.
Amazing what a dose of sedative could do.
The nurse slipped out of Amanda’s room with a baffled look and hurried over to her station. She picked up the phone and punched numbers frantically. Real smart, lady. Stand behind the desk and be a target for the bad guys. I shook my head as we stopped in front of the elevator.
The down arrow illuminated at first contact but I banged it repeatedly anyway, willing it to hurry up. I was so not ready to die. Trip hadn’t even kissed me yet. “Come on. Come on.”
The nurse shouted into the phone giving our descriptions as if we were the problem for taking Amanda to safety. She held the phone to her ear and paused mid-sentence. “Wait, slow down. He did what do the E.R. nurse? She glanced over at me and our eyes met and held.
Something bad had happened. I felt it in my bones. The elevator dinged then and I shot my arm out, blade extended as the doors slid open.
Empty.
Lynn stepped in first and I followed, smacking the button for the first floor, and then banging on the Close Doors button, like I was killing bad guys in an arcade game. I couldn’t shoot them fast enough.
The elevator took its sweet time, then finally dinged. The doors started to close when a high-pitched scream echoed from the hall. Oh, no. The nurse! Was she okay? I didn’t dare peek out for fear of the elevator doors swinging open. Whoever was out there had to be the person I’d been warned about and let me just say, if someone goes to the trouble of sending me a mind message to watch out, I wasn’t about to argue.
I turned to Lynn as we descended. Her hazel eyes swam with a mixture of anger and fear. She hadn’t so much as flinched when I’d told her I’d heard a voice in my head. Something a whole lot bigger than kidnapping must be happening. Scary thought. “What is going on? I want answers and I want them now.”
“I’ll tell you everything,” Lynn said. “But we need to get Amanda to safety first.”
Oh, I’ll tell you later. Hadn’t heard that one before.
“I called Trip. He’s sort of an assistant to the detective on Amanda’s case.” Assistant was a big stretch, but it sounded more respectful than gopher. “He told me to meet him out front, but the only way out I know is through the emergency room. Everything else is locked.”
