Chapter 5 - Into the Storm
The rain was coming down in torrents as I pulled up to the hospital entrance, screeching to a halt right in the emergency drop-off zone. Ignoring the security guard shouting at me to move my vehicle, I sprinted through the automatic sliding glass doors into the brightly lit lobby.
I ran toward the elevator bank, pressing the up button repeatedly. When the elevator took too long, I bolted for the heavy fire stairwell doors, throwing them open and taking the stairs three at a time up to the third-floor Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.
When I burst through the stairwell exit on the third floor, I found the corridor unusually quiet. The double glass doors leading into the PICU wing were locked, and the electronic keypad was blinking red.
"Hey! Open this door!" I slammed my fists against the glass.
Across the room, a young nurse looked up from the reception desk, her eyes wide with alarm. She recognized me and hurried over, using her magnetic keycard to unlock the door.
"Mrs. Johnson! You can't be yelling like that—"
"Where is Dr. Vance?" I cut her off, my heart pounding like a sledgehammer. "Where is my daughter?"
"Dr. Vance is in Room 304 with your daughter. He said he was administering an urgent protocol—"
I didn't wait for her to finish. I sprinted down the hall, my rubber-soled shoes squeaking loudly against the polished linoleum floor.
I threw open the door to Room 304.
My mother was standing in front of Emma's bed, her arms spread wide, courageously blocking Dr. Vance, who held a syringe filled with a clear liquid. A hospital security guard was standing near the door, looking confused and hesitant.
"I told you, Doctor, you wait until my daughter gets back!" my mother was yelling, her voice shaking with righteous fury.
"Madam, this medication is time-sensitive!" Dr. Vance was saying coldly, taking a step closer to her. "If we do not administer this stabilizing agent now, your granddaughter could suffer irreversible neurological damage!"
"Get away from my child!" I shouted, rushing into the room and thrusting myself between Dr. Vance and my mother.
Dr. Vance froze, his calm mask slipping for a fraction of a second, revealing a flash of intense annoyance before he restored his clinical composure. "Sarah, thank goodness you're here. Your mother is interfering with a critical medical intervention. Emma's organ markers are failing."
"Show me the vial," I demanded, holding out my hand. "Show me the medication order, the pharmacy stamp, and the attending physician signature!"
Dr. Vance's eyes narrowed slightly. "Sarah, you are an ER nurse, but you are currently an emotional parent. You know protocol—"
"I know protocol very well!" I snapped, pulling my phone from my pocket and holding up the picture I had taken of Michael's journal page detailing Dr. Vance's involvement with Apex BioTech. "And I know about Compound X-7. I know what you've been doing at Apex, Dr. Vance. If you step one inch closer to my daughter with that needle, I will scream down this hallway that you are trying to poison a child, and I will make sure every news station in Washington state hears it!"
The security guard's jaw dropped. "Dr. Vance? What is she talking about?"
Dr. Vance lowered the syringe slowly. The color drained from his face, replaced by a cold, calculating glare. "You are making a catastrophic mistake, Sarah."
"Security," I turned to the guard, my voice deadly steady. "Call the Chief of Medicine immediately. Call Detective Miller from SVU. Tell her that the primary suspect in the Apex BioTech poison case is standing in Room 304 trying to tamper with evidence."
The guard immediately reached for his radio. Seeing that his position was completely compromised, Dr. Vance stepped back, pocketed the syringe, and turned toward the door.
"You won't get away with this," I called out after him.
May you like
Dr. Vance paused at the threshold, looking back at me with a chill that sent shivers down my spine. "You have no idea how deep this goes, Mrs. Johnson. Your husband thought he could play hero too."
Then he turned and walked quickly down the corridor, vanishing into the night.
