Chapter 4 - THE MIDNIGHT PURSUIT
The metallic click of the pistol slide echoing in the small hospital room sounded like a gunshot.
"Don't move," Richard warned, leveling the barrel straight at Daniel’s chest. "Hand over the phone, Sarah. Slowly. By the handle."
My mind raced at a thousand miles per hour. If I handed him the phone, we were dead. If I refused, we were dead in three seconds. I needed a distraction, a window, anything to break the deadlock.
I slowly lifted my right hand, holding the burner phone out as if offering it to him. Richard’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locked entirely on the device. He took one step closer, his hand reaching out to grab it.
"Now, Daniel!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
In a fraction of a second, Daniel didn't lunge at the gun—he grabbed the heavy steel IV pole beside the bed and swung it with all his might directly into the glass fire alarm box on the wall.
CRASH!
A deafening, high-pitched alarm shrieked through the hospital corridor, instantly flashing blinding strobe lights across the ceiling. Automatic sprinklers hissed to life, spraying cold water down over us in a torrential downpour.
Richard cursed violently as the sudden flashing lights and deafening noise disrupted his aim. The bullet punched harmlessly through the wall tiles above our heads.
"Run!" Daniel yelled, grabbing my wrist.
We burst out of the hospital room into the corridor, which was already descending into absolute pandemonium. Nurses, patients, and security guards were flooding the hallways, scrambling toward the emergency exits.
"This way!" Daniel pulled me toward the service stairwell, away from the main elevators where Richard would easily cut us off.
We slammed through the heavy fire doors and sprinted down eight flights of concrete stairs, our boots echoing wildly in the enclosed shaft. My lungs burned with every breath, the adrenaline pumping so hard through my veins that I couldn't even feel the chill of the water dripping from my soaked clothes.
We burst out through the basement loading dock into the blinding sheets of the midnight rain. The parking lot was a dark, churning sea of asphalt and puddles.
"To my car!" Daniel shouted, dragging me across the wet pavement toward his black SUV parked under the flickering lights of a security pole.
We scrambled inside, locking the doors with a frantic series of clicks. Daniel jammed the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered, coughed once, and then roared to life.
"He's coming!" I screamed, looking back toward the loading dock doors.
Sure enough, Richard emerged from the shadows of the doorway, his charcoal suit soaked through, holding the silenced pistol in his right hand. He raised the weapon and fired three rapid shots straight at our rear tires.
Pop! Pop! Hissss!
The rear left tire blew out with a violent shudder, the SUV fishtailing wildly across the wet asphalt as Daniel slammed his foot on the gas.
"Hold on!" Daniel yelled, wrenching the steering wheel hard.
May you like
We rocketed out of the hospital parking lot, spraying gravel and water in every direction, just as Richard stepped back into the shadows, his face twisted in a mask of pure, murderous fury.
We were out of the hospital, but we were far from safe. We had a blown tire, a crippled vehicle, a ruthless killer hunting us down, and a digital evidence drive that could either destroy Richard Sterling—or get us both buried in an unmarked grave.
