Page 157 of Girl Between

Surveying the room, Dana went to work. There were plastic bins lined up under the large tarped window. Each was labeled. Various medical equipment, drugs, food, braille books, music, clothes … That was the bin she went for first. The clothes were Amelia’s and much too small for Dana, but she made do, pulling on a pair of black sweatpants and a dark blue t-shirt.

Dana winced as she pulled the tight shirt over her wound. It’d already bled through the gauze and makeshift bandage. Dana knew she needed stitches, but there was no time. Rooting through the bin of medical equipment, she found what she needed to patch herself up the best she could.

A loud crash in the distance startled her.

Monroe had most likely realized she wasn’t where he’d left her.

It was time to go.

Dana was halfway to the door when a soft voice made her halt.

“Dad? Is that you?”

For a split-second Dana wrestled with whether to just leave, but she’d been the girl left behind before. She couldn’t do that to someone else. This girl deserved the truth.

139

Cinnamon gum wrapperslittered the sidewalk as Jake anxiously waited for the go-ahead.

Disregarding Jake’s warnings, Creed had systematically divided the 1.18 square miles of the New Orleans Central Business District into a grid and was now initiating rolling blackouts.

Assigned to the northwest quadrant of the CBD, Jake stared up at the soft glow of the Superdome against a backdrop of purple night sky, waiting for it to go dark.

At first, he’d been optimistic about the relatively manageable size of the area, but then he learned more than 22,000 people called the little slice of the Crescent City home. People equaled variables, and Jake didn’t like the odds.

George’s voice crackled over the radio. “Your block is next.”

“Roger that,” Jake responded. “Eyes on target.”

There’d only been one building in this quadrant that fit Dana’s description, and Jake was staring directly at it. He didn’t have high hopes considering all 45 floors were already dark. But for Dana, he’d turn over every last stone in the city if it meant her safe return.

In a blink, the power to the surrounding blocks winked out. It was like witnessing a vacuum suck the life out of the city.

Silence replaced the light as Jake let his eyes adjust to the new blanket of darkness. He held a pair of binoculars up, focusing on the Plaza Tower. The building appeared how it had before the power was cut—dark, silent, lifeless. The clusters of police and FBI agents covering the building from different angles began radioing in their responses.

No one reported any activity.

Creed’s voice came over the radio. “Move on to the northeast quadrant.”

“Wait!” Jake yelled, his heart pounding as a kernel of light began glowing in the distance. “There,” he pointed, counting floors. “19thfloor. Do you see that?”

For a moment the radio remained silent, but then he got a response. “Copy that. We’ve got signs of life on nineteen.”

Jake’s flicker of hope glowed along with the light coming from the building. Whatever backup power source was up there had taken a while to kick in, but now that it had, more and more rooms began to glow to life.

“Positive power source identified,” Jake barked into his radio. “We’ve found our target.”

Creed’s voice answered back. “Mobilizing. Standby for instructions.”

140

“I don’t understand,”said Amelia.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Dana replied. “But we don’t have a lot of time. Dr. Monroe, isn’t a real doctor, and you’re not in a real hospital.”

“No. We found a match,” the girl insisted. “I’m getting my new kidneys. I’m just waiting to finish all my pre-op meds. My dad said so. He was just here.”

“Amelia, your father is lying to you. You’re in the Plaza Towers. Do you know where that is?”