Chapter 4 - The Midnight Flight
Inside the dimly lit room, the monitors were flashing an angry, pulsed amber.
Sophie was thrashing against the sheets, her small face flushed crimson, her lips pale and dry.
“Mommy... hurts...” the little girl whimpered, her tiny hands clawing blindly at the air.
Eleanor was already at her side, tears streaming down her face as she pressed a cold compress to the child’s forehead.
“I’m here, sweet pea, Mommy’s right here,” Eleanor sobbed, looking up wildly as Maxwell rushed to the bedside. “Max, the IV pump—it stopped! The flow rate dropped to zero!”
Maxwell slammed his hand onto the control panel of the infusion pump. The digital display flashed an error code: System Override: Remote Medical Hold Engaged.
“They locked the medical feed,” Maxwell said, his teeth gritting so hard his jaw ached. “Pendelton and the board... they’re trying to force us out by withholding treatment.”
“Monsters,” Eleanor whispered, her voice breaking into a gut-wrenching sob. “They’re going to kill her just to win a corporate lawsuit.”
“Not while I’m breathing,” Maxwell said.
He didn't waste another second hesitation. Grabbing the heavy metal IV pole, he jammed the steel base directly into the reinforced glass window of the hospital room.
CRASH!
The double-paned safety glass splintered into a million jagged pieces, raining down onto the empty gravel alleyway three stories below.
Down in the alley, the heavy rain was still pouring in sheets, creating a dark, roaring waterfall against the brick exterior of the hospital.
“Max, are you crazy? We’re on the third floor!” Eleanor cried out, rushing over to grab his arm. “We can’t jump!”
“We aren't jumping,” Maxwell said, ripping the heavy thermal curtains off the wall and tying them securely around the base of the heavy hospital bed. He looped the other end around the steel window frame, testing its weight with a sharp, heavy tug. “We’re climbing down.”
Before Eleanor could argue, the deadbolt on the heavy hallway door began to rattle violently. Heavy thuds echoed from the other side as security tried to smash it open.
“Open this door! Federal and corporate security! Open up!”
“Take Sophie,” Maxwell commanded, his voice absolute and unyielding. He wrapped a thick wool blanket around the shivering little girl, securing her tightly against Eleanor’s chest with a surgical sling he improvised from hospital sheets. “Hold her tight. Don't look down. Look at me.”
Eleanor stared into his gray eyes—eyes that held no fear, only absolute, unshakable devotion.
“If we fall—”
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“We aren't falling,” Maxwell interrupted fiercely. “I’ve got you. I’ve always had you, Ellie. Now move!”
As the heavy wooden door splintered inward under the weight of the security guards’ battering ram, Maxwell hoisted Eleanor and Sophie over the shattered window ledge, stepping out into the freezing Boston rain.
