Inveigle

Chapter Fifteen: Remember the Gun?

When he turned to face me, the needle poised to strike, I met his gaze with the gun. I pulled back the hammer as his face fell. The needle dropped to the floor with a small tinkling sound.

"Can I say anything to change your mind?" He said this as he gave me a strangely knowing look. As though he knew something about me that I wasn't aware of myself.

Shoot.

Let him go.

We're these really unique voices or just conflicted self? I shook my head involuntarily to clear it. The man took advantage and scurried out the door before I could re-aim the muzzle.

I braced myself to run after him, but a raspy cough stopped me.

I rushed over to Sam who coughed again, stuffing the gun away. He sat back on the bed. "Sam, we have to go."

"Cora, what is going on. He came in asking questions...about you."

"I-I don't know." I reached into my pocket and took out the address from this morning, "but I know where to start looking for answers."

A nurse came rushing in. "I heard a noise, is everything alright, sir?" Her eyes scanned over Sam and landed on me. A look of recognition flashed in her eyes. "You're the woman from the video. The one that caused the riot. A man was just in here looking for you." Her eyes darkened. She bent down and picked up the needle the man had dropped on the floor. It was filled with a bright blue liquid that shone like miniature crystals were suspended in the solution. She took a step toward me.

Ice ran through my veins. Was I that recognizable already?

Don't waste time.

The voice was quiet. It could have been my own thoughts, but something about the ferocity in the tone told me it wasn't.

Slowly I spoke, "I am that woman." I forced my eyes off of the needle in her hand to make eye contact with the nurse and continued, "Think about the policies that have come into play over the last few years. How many botched suicides have you seen as a nurse? Hasn't the hospital lost help with the Volunteer Tax?"

The nurse looked down at the needle in her hand and dropped it. She watched it roll away under the bed, "I, um-" Her eyes seemed unable to focus, almost shaky.

We needed this break. "Ma'am we're going to be leaving now," I said, putting one of Sam's arms around my shoulder to help him walk to the door. We left, leaving the nurse standing lost in the middle of the room.

Nathan and Ava's room was empty. A small amount of relief washed over me. A nurse passed us standing in the empty room's doorway and eyed us suspiciously. Sam noticed the look, too. "Let's get out of here. Nathan knows how to take care of himself and Ava."

I knew he was right. Nathan radiated street smarts but not knowing where they were and the fact that they were in trouble because of me gnawed at my gut.

The nurses station on the next floor was unoccupied. I took the liberty of going behind the desk to rummage through the lost and found. I found gray sweatpants that were large enough to fit Sam, and a red hoodie. There were no coats, but I did find a light white jacket for myself.

"Nurse," Sam whispered. I shoved the box back under the desk and slipped out to the other side of the desk before the nurse looked up from his clipboard. Sam was already gone, the only sign of him was the stairwell door closing. I followed and handed him his clothes. I slipped the jacket on, as he began to untie his hospital gown.

"Uh, I'll go one flight down and wait," I said and was at the bottom of the landing before I heard the clothing drop onto the cement floor. He was changed in less than a minute and came walking down. I couldn't be sure in the dim stairwell light, but I thought I saw a small smirk cross his face.

We took the stairs down and down and down until we finally hobbled out into the cold of the parking garage. It wasn't until the cool air filled our lungs that we both let out coughs as our bodies readjusted. I looked nervously at Sam, the fire may have done more damage to him than to me.

The image of him dragging Pam out of The Palace flooded my mind. Pam was dead, and Sam could have died, too. The feelings that I had suppressed when Sam went back in the burning building: the fear, anxiety, worry, all rushed through my body at once. The dark circles under his eyes screamed that he should still be resting. His eyes that still looked handsome as he turned his gaze toward me, "Cora, you okay?"

I nodded, knowing if I opened my mouth, tears would flow.

"What is going on? Who was that?" It wasn't exactly anger I heard in his voice, but I still felt paralyzed with guilt and fear.

I just stared at him, unsure how to continue. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him.

"Cora, do you know what's going on?"

His hands felt warm through the thin, white jacket. The contrast to the temperature outside was beautiful. I focused on that for a moment and took a deep breath, but his gaze never moved from my face. Shakily, I inhaled, "Pam's. Dead," and the tears came out. He pulled me into his chest where I silently sobbed into his clothes.

Stop wasting time.

Hush. Let her grieve.

Sam still hugged me, giving no indication that he had heard the voices. I'm going crazy. I swallowed the thought and pushed myself back from Sam, wiping away the now cold tears. I looked back at the hospital exit we had just left.

A video camera was bolted above the door we just left and was trained on us. I slid the gun out of my pocket and held it at my side as I walked up to the lens.

I stared straight into it, knowing my image was already in the system. That's how they found me at The Palace. That's why Pam is dead, and the rest of us are running for our lives. But I wouldn't let them see which direction we were going next.

I heard the lens zoom in and focus just as I pulled the trigger. The glass and plastic shattered. I tossed the gun into a dumpster as I walked back to Sam. I didn't want to kill anyone. We both pulled our hoods up without a word.

I reached into my pocket for the slip of paper I was handed just that morning. I unfolded it and showed it to Sam. We began walking down the cold street. He didn't ask me what I knew again, and I was glad. I didn't really know anything. Actually, worry ate at me that I knew less and less and with these voices in my head I was sure I was going mad.