Chapter 4 - The Predator in the Ward
I don’t remember the drive back to the hospital. I only remember the blinding red of stoplights blurring past me and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
When I burst through the emergency room doors, the lobby was in absolute chaos. Sirens wailed in the distance. Police officers were sprinting down the hallways, their radios crackling with frantic orders.
I found Detective Jenkins near the security desk.
“Where is he?!” I screamed, grabbing her arm.
“Sarah, stay here. We are sweeping the building,” Jenkins commanded, though her eyes betrayed her fear. “Dr. Vance used her master keycard before we could deactivate it. She knows the blind spots in the cameras. She’s trying to finish what David started.”
“She wants to kill him because he’s the only witness,” I gasped, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. “Toby heard David say she gave him the candy. If David goes to trial, Toby’s testimony will bury them both.”
“We’ve locked the exterior doors. She can’t get him out of the building,” Jenkins said. “We will find them.”
But I wasn't going to wait in the lobby.
I knew Toby. When he was scared, he didn’t scream. He hid.
I slipped past the security perimeter, sprinting toward the pediatric wing. The backup generators cast a dim, eerie light across the polished floors. I checked the empty bed in his room. The IV line had been ripped out, a small drop of blood staining the white sheets.
Think, Sarah. Think like Toby.
When we played hide-and-seek at home, he always went to the highest place he could reach, wedging himself into small, dark corners.
The hospital had a pediatric physical therapy wing on the fourth floor. It was filled with padded mats, tunnels, and heavy equipment. It was currently closed for renovations.
I bypassed the elevators, taking the stairs two at a time. My lungs burned, but I didn't stop. I pushed through the heavy fire doors of the fourth floor. It was pitch black, smelling of fresh paint and sterile cleaning supplies.
“Toby?” I whispered into the darkness.
Silence.
I crept down the hallway, grabbing a heavy metal IV pole that had been left in the corridor. I gripped it like a baseball bat.
As I passed a set of frosted glass doors leading to the therapy gym, I heard a sound. A soft, muffled whimper.
I pushed the doors open.
In the center of the room, illuminated by the faint glow of a streetlamp shining through the window, stood Dr. Melissa Vance. She was out of her medical coat, wearing dark civilian clothes. In one hand, she held a filled syringe.
With her other hand, she was reaching under a pile of blue gymnastics mats.
“Come out, Toby,” Vance cooed, her voice sickly sweet. “It’s just medicine. It will make your tummy feel so much better. Your daddy wants you to take it.”
“Get away from him!” I roared.
Vance spun around, her eyes wide with shock. Before she could react, I swung the heavy metal IV pole with every ounce of strength in my body.
The metal struck her across the shoulder. Vance screamed, dropping the syringe as she stumbled backward, crashing into a cart of medical supplies.
I didn't stop. The primal, protective instinct of a mother took over completely. I lunged at her, tackling her to the floor. We fought viciously in the dark. She clawed at my face, her nails tearing my cheek, but I didn't feel the pain. I grabbed a handful of her hair and slammed her head against the linoleum floor.
“You touched my son!” I screamed, pinning her down. “You tried to kill my baby!”
Vance thrashed wildly, reaching for the fallen syringe. Her fingers brushed the plastic barrel.
Suddenly, the doors burst open. Flashlights pierced the darkness.
“Freeze! Police! Drop it!”
Detective Jenkins and three armed officers swarmed the room. They pulled me off the doctor, immediately throwing Vance onto her stomach and ratcheting handcuffs tightly around her wrists. Vance was panting, a thin line of blood trickling from her nose, her eyes filled with venom.
“Mommy?”
I spun around.
From beneath the blue padded mats, a tiny, trembling hand appeared.
I fell to my knees, throwing the mats aside. Toby was curled in a tight ball, shivering, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. I pulled him into my chest, wrapping my arms around him so tightly I swore I would never let him go.
“I got you, baby,” I sobbed into his hair, rocking him back and forth. “I got you. The monsters are gone. Mommy killed the monsters.”
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Toby buried his face in my neck, his little arms squeezing me back. “I knew you would find me,” he whispered.
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