Then it was just her and the vial and the terrible wait for a slow and agonizing death….
ZACK SPRINTED TOWARD THE door at the far end. He’d always perceived physical pain as an issue of mind over matter. But then, he’d never been shot in the side before. Pain racked his body every time his feet hit the ground. He was bleeding profusely and leaving bloody footprints. A trail very easy to follow….
But he wasn’t going to let any of that stop him. He had to keep Underwood and his thugs from killing Emily.
Hang on, his mind chanted as he covered the ground at a swift pace.
He loved her. He’d loved her since the moment he laid eyes on her. Because of the circumstances he just hadn’t realized it, or maybe he just hadn’t been brave enough to acknowledge it. And now she could be dying….
The thought of losing her filled him with pain ten times worse than any gunshot wound. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Her smile. The way she’d looked at him after he’d kissed her. The way her eyes had glazed when he’d been inside her. Emily Monroe was decent and good and kind. The world needed her. He needed her. There was no way in hell he was going to let her die.
At the end of the corridor Zack paused. He was sweating profusely, his face burning as if with fever. He set his hand against his aching side, felt the sticky ooze of blood. He looked down and his palm was slick and red.
“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning against the jamb and willing his head to clear.
He needed help. If he passed out or was captured before reaching Emily… No, he thought. He wouldn’t let himself go there. He had to reach her. If it was the last thing he did, he would get her out of here.
Voices reached him through the haze of pain. Clutching his side, Zack backtracked a few steps and slinked into the alcove of a doorway and peered down the hall. A male corrections officer was walking toward him, speaking into his radio as he approached. He was looking down at the bloody footprints on the floor.
“Subject has definitely been this way. Blood looks fresh. Advise. Over.”
“Roger that. Subject is armed and dangerous. Approach with extreme caution. Lethal force has been authorized.”
“Roger. Out.” The officer shoved the radio into its sheath as he passed the alcove.
Zack waited until the man had taken two steps past him before he crept from the alcove and tapped him on the shoulder. The officer went for his pistol as he spun, but Zack was prepared. A palm-heel strike to the nose sent the man sprawling backward. In a flash Zack was on him. A single punch to the solar plexus and the man was incapacitated. Using the man’s own cuffs, Zack quickly secured his hands, gagged him and relieved him of the pistol and radio.
“Don’t mind if I borrow these, do you?” he asked and left the officer groaning on the floor.
But the physical exertion took a heavy toll. Dizziness and nausea washed over him as he entered the prisoner receiving area and closed the steel door behind him. The sergeant’s desk was vacant. He passed by it and paused outside the prisoner holding area. Peering around the corner, he spotted the sergeant with the two operatives Zack had been sent in with.
Kendra Michaels was wearing a skirt and heels, her right wrist cuffed to the bar embedded in the wall above the bench. Jake Vanderpol was already in a cell. From where Zack stood he could see that the other man’s face was bleeding and he knew Jake had put up a fight.
Feeling the press of time, Zack silently entered the room. Kendra made eye contact with him, then moved quickly to gain the attention of the sergeant. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she said.
“Too bad,” the man snapped.
“That’s no way to treat a lady.” Zack jammed the pistol against the sergeant’s spine. “Unlock those cuffs or I’ll put a bullet in your back.”
The sergeant went rigid, his hands shooting up.
Zack reached for the man’s pistol and handed it to Kendra. “I think you can put this to better use than he can.”
Smiling, she trained the gun on the sergeant’s heart. “Get these cuffs off me,” she said. “Now.”
The sergeant’s hands shook as he unlocked her cuffs. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Watch.” When the cuffs were released, she motioned toward the cell where Jake Vanderpol was standing. “Open it,” she said to the sergeant.
“What the hell took you so long?” Jake said as the sergeant unlocked the door. Then he noticed the blood on Zack’s side and grimaced. “Jeez, Devlin, you’re leaking like a sieve.”
“How bad?” Kendra asked, coming up beside him.
Zack didn’t care about his own gunshot wound. “They’ve taken Emily Monroe to the testing chamber,” he said. “I’ve got to get to her before they release the RZ-902.”
“You’re in no condition to be saving anyone, Devlin.” Kendra shoved the sergeant into the cell and slammed the door.
“She’s right, Devlin,” Jake said.