He knew how insane his plan sounded, but he had no other options. Tonight or never. With this in mind, he squared his shoulders and turned to face the door. Showtime.
The closet door opened and he walked into the long, white hallway of the psychiatric hospital. He’d never liked this place. It felt like being trapped inside a doctor’s pocket; oddly appropriate imagery in itself. Straightening his grey duster, he made sure there weren’t any spectators before walking over to the Fire Alarm on the wall, slipping on a rubber glove from one of his pockets. He yanked it hard and a bright blue ink sprayed onto his gloved palm, which would have identified him as the culprit had he not known it would happen. Immediately, a near deafening ringing sound filled the air. He tossed the glove in a nearby wastebasket and slipped back inside the closet seconds before the hospital personnel began pouring out of the patients’ rooms. He had started a fire downstairs, hoping to set the alarm off earlier, but the building was old. He had little time and needed the place evacuated as soon as possible.
Soon, the hallway was filled with employees questioning one another about the nature of the alarm and heading towards the supervisor’s office to find out what was going on.
“Are all the patients accounted for on this floor?” One male doctor asked the nurse by his side.
“I’ll do a head count.” She disappeared down the hallway. A couple of the other employees who had gone to Dr. Vulcan’s office came back with news.
“She says there’s a fire in the kitchen downstairs. The Fire department is on its way. We’re going to have to evacuate.”
The male doctor heaved a sigh. “Great. It’ll be Pandemonium. Let’s go.”
The hospital personnel dispersed, giving him a chance to slip out of the closet.
“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were off today,” one of the nurses said as he approached.
He flashed her a sheepish smile. “Had some last minute files to complete. What’s with all the noise?”
She knocked on the reinforced metal door to Room P82, alerting the security inside to her presence, shaking her head and raking a hand through her curly brown hair. “There’s a bit of a fire downstairs so we’re gonna have to evacuate until the fire marshal shows up. I’m just glad this didn’t happen during visiting hours.”
“Yeah. Bad luck, I guess. Need any help?”
She paused. “Well, sure. You know Ms. Amador better than anyone here. Guess it wouldn’t hurt for you to be the voice of reason while we get everyone out.”
The door to the room opened and a tall blond man in white stepped out, light eyebrows lifted in question as the ringing alarm reached his ears.
“I thought I heard some racket out here. What’s going on?”
“We gotta get everyone out of the building. Escort Ms. Amador outside. He’ll accompany you.”
The guard sighed, going back into the room for a moment. “Roger that.”
His breath caught as Catalina Amador walked out into the harsh luminescent lighting of the hallway, highlighting her midnight hair and coffee skin. Even with tousled hair and bags under her eyes, she radiated pride and loveliness. Those entrancing brown eyes locked with his and widened in surprise. He managed a somewhat genuine smile in return.
“Hey, Cat.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked, surprise evident even beneath her warm Spanish accent. The guard didn’t allow him to reply; instead he nudged her forward with a large, pale hand. “Walk and talk, please.”
She bristled and reluctantly complied, following the shuffling masses towards the short flight of stairs leading outside.
Andrew placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, leaning in slightly. “When we get outside, follow my lead.”
Catalina’s spine stiffened. “You can’t do this. It’s not going to work. It’s too late for me.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t say that. This isn’t over yet.”
They fell silent as the sound of feet on metal reverberated through the staircase. His pulse quickened as they reached the door and stepped into the cool night breeze. For a fleeting second, he almost forgot about the plan as he felt the New Jersey air closing in around them like a comforting blanket. This city always seemed more alive at night, at least in his eyes. Still, he steeled himself and reached down, strong fingers wrapping around Catalina’s slender wrist.
In an instant, they were gone.