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“Whoohee yow! Look what our boy did!”

I freeze. I hear him before I see him: Marshal lets off a couple of wild yelps and kicks something across the room. There is the return of raucous laughter from maybe one…no—two men. Three of them all together. The beam of a flashlight sweeps uncomfortably close to where we are. I realize with cold shock that we are hiding.

“Anything?”

“Naw, just a bunch of dead bodies. Who do you think this is?”

I lift my head enough to watch them. Marshal uses his foot to poke the body.Then he leans down close to its face. “Looks like a dumb bitch to me!” The two others whoop in agreement. I can’t tell who they are.

“Do you think there’s any others back there?”

“They would have gone out the emergency exits,” Marshal replies. “Let’s go hunt ’em down, boys!” They exit, taking their hyena noises with them.

Yes. Go, go, go.My hand is throbbing. I can feel blood pulsing from the wound. When they’re out of earshot, Alma gets up, and I can finally breathe. Pushing myself up with my right hand, I cradle my left. There’s something sticking out of my palm.Don’t let it be a nail, I silently plead. Holding my hand up to the tiny bit of light still coming through the skylight, I see a piece of glass poking out of my palm. I’m too relieved to be bothered by the sting as I pull it out.

“Alma, did you know they were going to do this?”

I can’t see her features, but she shakes her head. I feel like there’s something more she wants me to know. “But you knew they were planningsomething?”

She nods.

“Who else other than Marshal?”

She looks toward D.

That’s when it comes back to me. Dalton, the D patient Jude said was helping Marshal, he built a bomb and blew up his ex and her new lover. The explosion had to be Dalton’s doing.

“That’s impossible. No one has access to D patients.”

Her shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

“All right,” I say. “All right, we need a plan, don’t we?” I’m talking to myself. Alma stands very still, watching me.

What do I know so far? Marshal and a group of his pals somehow made a bomb and blew up the hospital. Now they are on their way outside to round everyone up. For what? They have guns. This is bad. If Leo doesn’t come back, it could only mean one thing: they have him.

“I know a place to hide you.” I grab her hand, slick with blood. We walk to the security door hand in hand. Taking a steadying breath, I push the door open an inch to peer out. The emergency lights are flashing; each time they blink, I see more of the destruction. There is glass under our feet. The crunch is alarmingly loud. The door on the other side is open, hanging on one hinge.

“I have to get my phone,” I whisper to Alma. I hoist myself up on the counter, belly first, sliding until I reach the other side. George’s chair is overturned, but there’s no sign of him. There’s a shelf behind where the guard sits. It’s where they put the phones when we turn them in. Most of the baskets have been knocked to the floor. I pick up the first phone I see and dial 911. Nothing. No sound. When I check the screen, there’s no service. I find my phone still on the shelf—the lone basket that didn’t get knocked over. No service there either. I tuck it in my pocket and slide back across the counter. I jump off and hear the crunch of glass.

We pass through the doorway, her hand squeezing mine. Alma cowers against my back, trembling and warm. I put my finger against my lips as we near the staircase. We’ll be completely visible to anyone downstairs. I can’t hear anything except some distant shouting from outside. We keep our backs to the banister as we descend so we can see both sides of the hallway. When I hear the sound of feet, I put out a hand to stop Alma from going farther. Three women run into view. I recognize two of them as nurses, and the third is Agnes. I hold my breath as they creep forward. They haven’t seen us yet. They’re looking at the door. Two gunshots sound from outside:Pop! Pop!The three women draw together, clutching each other, and one of them screams and begins to cry. Behind me, Alma whimpers and tugs on my sweater.

“Wait here,” I tell Alma for what feels like the tenth time today.Before she can stop me, I take the stairs two at a time, keeping my eyes on the door. They see me coming and flinch away.

“It’s Iris,” I say. Janiss pops into view, and then they converge on me. Janiss is shaking, her eyes as large as saucers. “Those fuckers,” she says, then goes silent. The other nurse—I think her name is Ruthie—speaks.

“We heard gunshots. We hid in the office but—people are dead back there. There was so much blood.”

I nod, looking in the direction they came from. The administrative offices.

“Did you see Jordyn?”

The third woman shakes her head. “She was in the cafeteria the last time I saw her…”

Jackie looks scared, her silver hair is plastered flat on one side. When she turns her head, I catch a glimpse of the blood. She has blood on the front of her blouse, and another thumb-sized spot on the bridge of her nose.

“They’re going for the boats,” Janiss says in a low voice. “Just a couple of safety rafts, really, but they think they can make it to the mainland.”

“Who was it?”