Chapter 10 - THE FALL OF THE TRAITOR
The flight back to St. Catherine’s was a blur of adrenaline and terror. I sprinted through the hospital corridors, the titanium vial clutched so tightly in my fist that my knuckles bled.
I burst through the ICU doors. Dr. Bennett was standing over Claire, applying defibrillator paddles. The flatline alarm was shrieking.
"No!" I yelled. "I have the counter-agent! Administer it!"
Dr. Bennett grabbed the vial, quickly drawing the clear liquid into a syringe and injecting it directly into Claire’s IV line.
One minute passed. Then two. The room was suffocatingly silent, save for the rhythmic, agonizing hum of the machines. I dropped to my knees beside her bed, burying my face in the white sheets, praying to a God I hadn't spoken to since I was a broke kid in Atlanta.
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Then, the monitor beeped.
A slow, steady rhythm returned to the screen.
