by Debra Jess
"What about the crowd outside?"
"Security can handle it. If they can't, T-CASS will."
"Most of T-CASS is still at the quarry," Scott reminded her.
Hannah shrugged. "I have power now. Everyone in Thunder City has seen me take down Miranda's mercenaries. By the end of today, they'll know about us fighting off Division Six. If Thunder City keeps threatening me, I will leave. I'd rather live in another city and not use my power at all, than be locked up again."
Scott put his faith in Thomas's security team's discretion and hugged her. "I'll go with you," he whispered in her ear. "If you decide to leave or if we have to run. Don't go anywhere without me."
"Never," she whispered back.
He released her from his hug. Side-by-side they made it down to the first floor and to the front desk without creating any further havoc. The guy sitting behind the desk didn't look up as he made Hannah another appointment for next week, then handed her a piece of paper for her prescription.
Hannah tucked the prescription into her back pocket, while Scott walked her back to the elevators and up to the fourth floor skyway.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" They'd reached the garage without saying much to each other. If Hannah felt as wiped out as he did, he couldn't blame her for keeping her thoughts to herself. He still looked around for potential threats, but the garage at this level was only half full, even in the middle of the work week.
"I'm sure." Hannah stepped away from him. "I need to make this trip on my own. If I can't get from here to the Pathologist's office on my own without causing a ruckus, how am I ever going to live a normal life in Thunder City? How can I convince a jackass like Johnson that I'm trustworthy? That I don't need to be locked up to keep everyone else safe?"
Her voice sped up and climbed an octave as she talked. He could see her pain, her eagerness to get away from him. Oddly enough, he understood. They'd stood by each other's side for so many days, maybe a short break was in order. Hannah had something to prove to herself, not to him or anyone else.
"Shhhhh, it's okay, Hannah. I understand." He backed away from her instead of moving toward her. "Go see what McNamara wants. I'll wait for Garrett here. If you need a ride, you can call him directly and he'll come back and pick you up here on the fourth floor."
Relief sagged Hannah's shoulders. "Thanks, Scott. I knew you would understand. I will call you later. After you're settled in the penthouse. I promise."
There's was nothing else left to say, so he kissed the tips of his gloved fingers and held them out toward Hannah. She did the same before turning her back on him and walking away.
4
Guilt walked with Hannah all the way through the skyway. She knew Scott would watch her until he could no longer see her. Any other day, she wouldn't have minded his overprotectiveness. Today, she couldn't fight off the feeling of relief at being alone. She hadn't really had time to herself since the quarry raid. Either Scott, Thomas, or Doctor Rao had hovered over her. Thomas had a crew that milled about, doing their jobs. As much as she loved Scott and cared about Thomas, she really needed just a few minutes to herself, time to think without someone nearby to interrupt her thoughts. She had an escape to plan if it became necessary.
The skyway ended and she entered the hospital. She glanced over her shoulder and couldn't see Scott anymore. She stood up straighter, held her head high. All she was doing was going to see a doctor. People did that every day without fuss and bother. Her journey, short as it was, shouldn't be any different.
She followed the signs to the nearest suite of elevators. A few nurses passed by, wearing blue scrubs. Closer to the elevators, she started to see patients, some walking with IVs, others in wheelchairs. Her fingers itched to touch their skin, to bloodsurf and cure what ailed them, whatever it was. She fought back that urge, and changed her stance, keeping her head low. All the better to not see the security cameras discreetly placed at regular intervals along the ceiling.
Once she reached the elevators, she pulled out the phone Scott had given her and dialed the number on McNamara's business card.
"Ms. Quinn?"
The voice sounded smooth, soothing, until a cough ruined the effect. "How did you know?"
He tried to chuckle, but coughed again instead, this time punctuated with a sneeze. "My patients tend to be a quiet bunch. I rarely get calls not on my contact list."
Of course. He was a pathologist and medical examiner. He autopsied the dead. "You said you needed to give me further instructions to get to your location. I didn't know Pathology would be so difficult to get to."
"I can't imagine the morgue is on anyone's top ten list of places to visit."
It was Hannah's turn to laugh. Even she hadn't gone near the morgue when she was haunting the hallways of Star Haven Memorial. "No, I can't imagine it is."
"Well, then, here's what you need to do." She waited again as another sneeze interrupted his instructions. Whatever illness he had, it was getting worse. "Wait until you can catch the elevator when it's empty. Once you’re inside and the doors have closed, run the short edge of the white keycard along the left edge of the floor selection keypad. There's a point where the card will slip behind the keypad itself. It will disappear for a moment, then reappear. Pull it out immediately. That will send the elevator down to the VIP floor of the hospital. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"
It sounded simple enough. "No. That's okay. It might take me some time to find an empty elevator."
"You may have to ride it up a few floors, then come down again." He coughed again. "A tiresome complication, but the VIP floor is sort of a half-secret. Not many people know about it. You understand, Hannah. It would be best if you kept the information about this floor and the key to yourself. For security reasons."
A half-secret. The Blackwoods are damn big VIPs in Thunder City. They must know about it. Maybe use the floor themselves? Scott might not know about it, though. He hasn't lived here for years. What do I tell him?
Nothing. Miranda's voice in her head. You have to start protecting yourself. Scott knows you're going to the Pathology department. He doesn't need to know which Pathology department.
No! I'll ask McNamara if it's okay to tell Scott first. Scott might already know. Thomas would have told him, and Thomas would have to know about the VIP level. His company handles security around here.
"I understand," she replied to McNamara. He shouldn't have to wait for her to finish her internal argument with her dead ex-mother. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Good. Turn right off the elevator. My office is the last one at the end of the corridor. Hopefully the cold meds will kick in before you get here, otherwise you'll hear me long before you see me."
Hannah hung up. The first elevator arrived with a crowd inside. They all got out. She walked inside and luck followed. No one entered behind her. She knew she was in trouble the second the elevator doors closed, though. Her body grew cold, remembering the temperature of the freezer in which Miranda had locked her. She white-knuckled the key card as she slid it down past the floor numbers as instructed. About halfway down it slid in, disappeared, then slid back out again. She snatched it and backed up against the wall, her eyelids closed so tight her eyeballs hurt.
You can do this. Won't take long. Can't take long. You were just on an elevator with Scott. Imagine Scott standing beside you, holding your hand. Don't be scared. Catherine wouldn't be scared. Miranda would want you to be scared. Miranda wants you to cry. Don't give her the satisfaction.
The lower the elevator dropped, the harder her body shook until the elevator doors opened to silence. As much as she wanted to jump out, her tremors forced her to exit with small steps.
You made it. The doors shut behind her, but she still stood there, hugging herself. Nothing wrong with me that a good dose of courage won't cure.
She turned right per McNamara's instructions and stopped dead in her tracks.
Tall, dark, and darth stood in f
ront of an office door. The only office door at the end of a short corridor. He had a gun strapped to his hip.
He, of course, could see her standing there, like a lost kid in a horror movie. She couldn't see behind his mirrored sunglasses (and who wore sunglasses in the basement of a hospital anyway?), but she imagined he laughed at her. Not that he showed any amusement. He didn't show anything. Not a twitch.
Oh, hell. After the day you've already had, what could this guy do to you? She asked herself.
Make you a resident in the morgue? Catherine's bluntness spoke this time, not Miranda's disdain. Hannah slipped her hand into her pocket to get the key card out of her hand. The guy might work as hospital security, but if so, why was he armed so heavily and not in uniform?
Thoughts of blowing up Joe's brain flitted through her memories. She remembered her power during the quarry raid. She could heal, but she could also fight. She'd forgotten that in the elevator where there was nothing to fight but her own fear.
With more confidence than she felt, she approached the guard.
"Hi. I'm Hannah Quinn. I need to speak with Doctor McNamara and he said he would be in his office."
This close up, she could see a hint of heaviness in the guard's pale cheeks, along with some silver across his near-black hairline. The puckered tip of a scar poked his suprasternal notch from under his black t-shirt. He wasn't a young punk, but a man with experience and he had the battle scars to prove it.
A long moment passed, then with the tiniest of smirks he stepped to the side, opened the door behind him, and motioned her to enter. She passed by him with the cheeriest "thank you" she could manage. Once she had crossed the threshold, the guard slammed the door shut.
Click, click. The door locked and she was stuck inside. Trapped. She whirled around to face the closed door, her hand reaching for the door knob, trying to yank it open.
I will not panic, I will not panic. I will not panic.
"Ms. Quinn?"
A hand gripped her wrist.
"Ms. Quinn. Relax. You're safe here. You're safe with me."
That voice. She recognized it. From under the beach hat, she saw a white jacket, a blue oxford shirt, and a maroon tie.
McNamara. Of course, he was here. It was his office. Why did she think she was back in Miranda's freezer?
She let go of the door knob.
"I'm sorry." She inhaled in an attempt to slow her heart. "I don't react well to closed doors. Reminds me too much of the quarry."
The door opened. Darth stood there, hand on gun.
"No!" McNamara gave her a gentle push backward so he could stand between her and the guard. "It's fine. You triggered a panic attack when you locked the door. She'll be okay, but let's keep the door open for a little while, shall we?"
Hannah peeked around McNamara. With his sunglasses covering his eyes, she couldn't tell if the guard was concerned, disgusted, or angry.
McNamara sighed. "Ms. Quinn is not a threat. The crowd outside, however, might find their way inside. Why don't you do something about that?
The guard still didn't say anything, nor did he back off.
"We'll be fine," McNamara repeated, his voice louder, more forceful despite the rashness of what had to be a sore throat. "No one will find her down here without me knowing about it. Go check on the crowd."
As quickly as the door had opened, the guard closed it again, but this time he kept the latch resting on the strike plate.
McNamara maneuvered her over to a comfortable, executive-style chair. With light pressure on her shoulders, he encouraged her sit. Her legs collapsed with little resistance.
"I'm sorry." She had no energy to say anything else.
"I'm sorry, too." McNamara sat behind his desk, pushing several bottles of cold medicine to the side. "Today has been stressful for you. The Shield shouldn't have locked the door behind you. Would you like some water? We'll talk whenever you're ready."
The Shield? So, the guard was an Alt. Probably another Neut. She couldn't imagine someone like that working for T-CASS.
She must have nodded because a moment later, McNamara reached over his desk to hand her a bottle with the cap already unscrewed. She took the hat off, though. She didn't need to hide who she was down here.
"I don't know what happened." The words tripped over her dry tongue, so she sipped the water. "I don't understand why I keep reacting like that."
"Having a bodyguard is an unfortunate necessity, at least for the next month or two. The Shield came highly recommended, but he is quite intimidating. I understand why, but I do wish he would dial back the attitude when there's no obvious threat."
The panic attack subsided the more McNamara talked. For a moment, her eyes drifted shut as she listened to her heart rate slow and her breath fall back into its normal rhythm. In the background the white noise of rain drowned out the last of her panic. Quiet, soothing rain —
"Hannah?" McNamara rapped his knuckles on his desk, disrupting her peace. "Don't fall asleep on me."
Her eyes blinked open, her shock raising her heart rate again. "Sorry. For a moment there, I thought I heard rain. I was using the sound to help slow my breathing, but then it stopped when you called my name."
McNamara cleared his throat, a loud, raspy sound. "This far underneath the hospital, we get many a strange sound. It's more than likely water in the pipes from the bathrooms upstairs."
"At least I know what it is." She took one last deep breath to get herself back under control. "This has never happened to me before. The sound of the locks — they reminded me of the freezer Miranda shoved me into when she captured me."
McNamara waited, the picture of patience. What the newscasters had reported about the quarry raid and the events preceding it might have given him a clue as to what she was babbling about.
It took a few minutes, but she managed to regain some semblance of control. "You said you had a few questions you needed to ask me?
McNamara cleared his throat as he folded his hands on top of the desk. "Yes, I do. You see, Ms. Quinn, the quarry raid has forced Thunder City and Star Haven to work together to uncover Miranda Dane's operation."
"We already know what she was up to." Hannah could feel her blood pressure rising. She couldn't help but interrupt McNamara. Even though her brain told her to slow down, to not let her anger get the better of her again, she couldn't control herself. She had to let the anger out or she would explode. "She was experimenting on Alts, trying to find the secret to their Alt power. She wanted to use me to control the Alt population in the quarry. Eventually, she would have used me to control the entire population of Star Haven."
McNamara sat back in his chair. "Is this fact or speculation?"
Hannah shrugged. "Speculation, but I've had more experience with Miranda Dane than anyone else. If Miranda could figure out the secret to Alt power, she could create Alts that she needed and destroy the ones she couldn't control. Once Star Haven became dependent on me for health care, she could threaten to restrict access and do whatever she wanted."
"Has T-CASS found evidence of any of this?" McNamara leaned back in his executive chair, his hands folded on his stomach.
Hannah shrugged again, for lack of anything else to do to express her disgust. "Not yet. Thomas said something about the quarry computer systems set to a low level format, which I gather erased everything. But, like I said, I know Miranda."
McNamara nodded, taking his eyes off her to glance at his computer screen. "Well, Miranda Dane may have erased her computer systems, but she can't erase all of her evidence. I have sixteen guards and twelve Alts, including the mutant she created, that I have to autopsy within the next week. All killed during the quarry raid."
Hannah's spirits crashed and burned. She'd healed three Alts in the prison's infirmary before Miranda had shot them. The mutant would have to be Joe Austin, the one whose brain she’d blown up. The one who could be considered two dozen bodies all by himself because of his size. Yet there had been more Alt prisoners? M
ore than one freezer? More than one infirmary? None of the Blackwoods had told her about there being more Alts in Miranda's prison.
The acid she had swallowed back earlier returned, but she held it back by gulping the rest of the water from the half empty bottle.
"Star Haven can't handle the case load." McNamara pulled up more information on his computer screen. He sniffed again; his cold was worsening. "Their city Medical Examiner is currently missing in action along with half their city government. I have some contacts in Star Haven and a decent enough relationship with a number of prominent hospital administrators over there. Thunder City has asked me to negotiate an offer to perform the autopsies here and make the reports available on both sides of Mystic Bay. I could make the argument that with your inside knowledge of what happened during the raid, you could provide me with some insight for my final report."
McNamara wanted her to advise him on the job? Twelve Alts. Twelve dead Alts and sixteen guards. Flashes of Joe's brain blowing up under her command returned with a vengeance. Her stomach swirled around the water.
"You don't have to help me if you don't want to." McNamara leaned toward her, his concern obvious in the softening of his brows. "But, you belong in a hospital more than you belong anywhere else. If you can't work with live patients just yet, you may as well work with the dead."
Work with the dead. Show the Committee she could be useful without bloodsurfing. Maybe even get paid for her work so she wasn't so dependent on the Blackwoods. That had been her goal ever since she had first arrived in Thunder City. Get a job, support herself. Fit in so she could have a normal life. McNamara had no idea what a gift he was offering her.
"How will you perform an autopsy on Joe Austin? I...I didn't leave much of his brain after I..."
She couldn't finish, memories of what she'd done overpowering her voice. McNamara sat back up but, didn't expect her give a detailed description, thank heavens. She would have to tell McNamara, though, if not before the autopsy, then during the examination if he asked.
