ANMELDENThe television hanging on the wall played quietly in the corner of the hospital room. A twenty-four-hour news channel was on, but the volume was so low that the words were barely audible. The pale light from the screen moved across the room as the nurse worked beside the bed.Clara stood near the IV pole, carefully replacing the empty saline bag. She had her clipboard in one hand, checking Marcus's latest vitals and making notes without paying much attention to the television behind her.Marcus lay still on the bed.For the first time in weeks, his mind felt clear. Without the heavy sedatives clouding his thoughts, he could think properly again. His eyes slowly moved toward the television.A red banner suddenly appeared across the bottom of the screen.**BREAKING NEWS.**Marcus's chest tightened.A picture of his own face appeared on the screen, an old and slightly faded ID photo from his days at the docks. Beneath it, bold words began scrolling across the screen.*SURVIVOR OF FIFTH S
The quiet inside Isolation Unit B-2 was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps.Nurse Clara looked toward the entrance as two men in dark overcoats entered the room. They were not like Ethan Blackwood's polished security men in their neat suits. These men looked tired. Their eyes were worn from the long night, and their coats still carried the faint smell of the damp air outside.Dr. Edward met them at the foot of the bed.One of the men reached into his coat and showed his badge."Ten minutes," Dr. Edward said firmly. "His vocal cords are badly irritated from the breathing tube, and his lungs are still weak. If his heart rate rises too much or his oxygen drops below ninety, I will end this immediately."The detective gave a short nod."Ten minutes is all we need, Doctor. We only want to understand what happened."He stepped toward the bed and pulled a small black notebook from inside his coat.On the mattress, Marcus's head rested against the pillow. The breathing tube was gone
The concrete walls of Isolation Unit B-2 kept the outside world entirely at bay. Down here in the sub-basement, there was no sound of distant traffic, no glare of streetlights through window glass, and no hum of high-traffic hospital corridors. The only presence was the rhythmic, pneumatic hiss of the ventilator and the soft, measured chimes of the cardiac monitor mounted on the wall.Dr. Edward stood near the foot of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he reviewed the latest printout of Marcus’s vitals. Beside him, Nurse Clara adjusted the saline drip, her eyes constantly darting to Marcus’s face.The heavy steel door of the unit clicked open.There was no sudden rush of air, no commotion. Ethan Blackwood stepped into the room with quiet, unhurried steps. He wore a dark charcoal wool coat over a tailored suit, his hair neatly combed despite the late hour. Behind him, Harrison slid in silently, his hands folded in front of his coat, his eyes instantly sweeping the small, windo
The heavy steel elevator groaned as it moved below the ground floor, taking them deeper into the lower part of County General Hospital.Inside the small metal elevator, the bright ceiling light buzzed above them, making the room feel even more crowded. The medical team worked around the hospital bed while Marcus lay in the middle of it, surrounded by wires, tubes, and machines."Watch his head!" Dr. Edward called, leaning over the bed. His fingers pressed against the side of Marcus's neck as he checked his fast heartbeat. "Clara, keep the bag moving. He's fighting the airflow!"Clara held the blue breathing bag with both hands, squeezing it carefully to help Marcus breathe.Sweat ran down the side of her face. "Heart rate is one-forty-two, Doctor! His blood pressure is still very high!"Marcus heard their voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying.He was terrified.The deep sleep that had held him for weeks was gone. Everything had returned at once—the lights, the sounds
The fourth floor of County General Hospital was almost completely silent.It was late at night, and most of the lights in the corridor had been dimmed. The sharp smell of disinfectant hung in the air, mixed with the faint scent of rubbing alcohol. Outside Room 408, two men in dark suits stood on either side of the door, watching the hallway with the kind of attention that made it clear they were not ordinary hospital visitors.Inside the room, everything was quiet.The ventilator breathed for Marcus.The heart monitor gave its steady beep.For weeks, those sounds had been the only proof that he was still there.Nurse Clara pushed her cart into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She had been working for twelve hours, and exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders. Still, she forced herself to focus as she checked the IV bags and glanced at the monitor.Everything looked normal.Heart rate steady.Blood pressure stable.She made a note on her clipboard and moved closer to
County General’s third floor smelled like bleach, rubbed alcohol, and stale coffee.Luna stood in the stairwell landing, her back pressed against the cold cinderblock wall. She wore a pair of oversized light-blue surgical scrubs swiped from a laundry cart in the basement, her dark hair tucked tightly under a disposable hairnet. A pale blue surgical mask covered her face from the bridge of her nose down to her chin, leaving only her dark, resolute eyes exposed.Through the small glass pane of the stairwell door, she watched the hallway.Ethan’s private guards didn't look like hospital security. They wore dark suits, held earpieces tight to their collars, and stood with their feet shoulder-width apart outside Room 408. They were vigilant, their eyes sweeping every nurse, janitor, and visitor walking down the hall. There was no way to charm or force her way past them.Luna pulled a stolen plastic clipboard close to her chest, her blistered thumb running over the top edge.*I have to get







