The Treatment (The Program #2)(70)

My breathing is jagged and adrenaline starts to pulsate as a frantic thought takes over. Maybe I can fight our way out.

I scan the room, looking for anything I can use as a weapon.

All I see are covered plates of food and the plastic spoon that sits on the side of the breakfast tray. I wish Nurse Kell would have left her knitting needles or something sharp. I’ll need a key card to get into solitary, and it’s obvious Asa isn’t just going to hand over his.

The minutes tick by, and all I can think about is Dallas, whose life is about to be irrevocably changed. No one else will help her. I’m the only person who can save her. I walk over to clear off the tray of food and then pick up the flat metal pan.

I’m going to have to take a key.

I crack open my door and peer out, hoping to find a nurse heading in this direction—but the hall is empty. The tray is cold in my hand and my heart is pumping blood loudly into my ears. I’ll have to hurt someone, and even though I’m mad as hell, I still don’t want to do that. But what choice have they left me? I’ll get to Dallas, get her out of solitary, and then we make a break for it. My entire future depends on luck, on not getting caught.

I blow out a steadying breath, wondering if I’ve completely lost my mind at this point. Then I lean forward and whistle loudly. When I hear nothing in return, I do it again, and then there is the shuffling of feet. I curse, suddenly debating this idea, but close my door and hide behind it. The footsteps get louder, and I lift the metal tray above my head, readying the force I’ll need to bring it down on whoever walks in the door.

The world is moving in slow motion as I watch the handle turn, the twitch in my arm, the shake of my breath. And then there is a side profile, followed by the back of a head with short red hair.

I bring the tray down with as much force as I can. The metal connects against the hard skull with a heavy clang, sending vibrations up my arm. I see the bend of the metal and lift the tray to drive it down again, but the body falls to the floor in front of me.

It’s Nurse Kell. I lower my arms and let them hang lifelessly, guiltily, at my sides. For a terrible moment I think she’s dead, but then I hear a gurgle, a soft moan. I have only a moment. I have to get to Dallas.

I lean down and grab Nurse Kell’s key card from her hip, and then, still carrying the tray, I rush from the room. I book down the hallway, my head whipping from side to side as I search for the right set of double doors. I expect an alarm to sound, flooding the hall with handlers, but nothing happens.

Not yet.

The nurses’ station is just ahead, and I stop and press myself to the wall, just out of their view. I’m not sure how to get past them, not carrying a metal tray and looking crazy. I set my weapon down on the white floor and then start forward.

Therapy. I could be going to therapy

A young, dark-haired nurse glances up as I pass. I nod to him, and he goes back to his computer as I take the turn just before the doctors’ wing. Once in the new hallway, I recognize the door at the end and start running again. This is where Asa took me when I visited Dallas. I’m not sure if she’s still there, but I’m about to find out.

After a quick check around me, I use Nurse Kell’s key card and cautiously walk inside, seeing a series of rooms. I can’t remember which is Dallas’s, but she must be the only person down here because all the doors are open but one. I swallow hard, scared she won’t actually be inside—that maybe I’m too late. I swipe the key card and then push the door open, my stomach in knots.

The room is awash in muted colors, and it takes me a long moment to find the figure inside wearing gray-colored scrubs.

Just at that moment, Dallas lifts her head, her eyes widening when she sees me. “Sloane?” she calls in a weak voice.

“Oh, thank God,” I say, and move quickly to grab her. Dallas has dark circles that have changed the shape of her eyelids, drawing them down. She’s been here only for a few days, but she looks sickly and even thinner than before. I think the isolation has been wearing on her.

“We have to get out of here,” I say. “They’re going to lobotomize you.”

I help her up, and Dallas staggers beside me, wobbly like it’s been too long since she’s walked. “What?” she asks, looking over. “Lobotomy?” She uses the word like she’s never heard it before. I’m not sure what sort of psychosis she’s in, but I have to get us out of here.

“We’re escaping,” I tell her. “And if we fail, they’re going to lobotomize both of us. They’ve already done it to Lacey, and we’re next. Now move your ass!” I push her ahead toward the doors, checking behind us, and sticking close to the wall. I’m waiting for an overhead alarm, flashing lights, but it’s still quiet.

There’s terrible guilt as I wonder if anyone has found Nurse Kell yet.

When we get to the double doors, I pause, my hand against the frame. “Dallas,” I say, drawing a half-glazed stare from her.

“We have to run for the stairs, do you understand? Don’t stop, not for anyone. Not even for me.”

It takes a second, but I see the life start to return to Dallas’s eyes. Suddenly she reaches out to hug me, a quick squeeze before pulling back and nodding toward the door. I swipe the card, and then we’re walking, heading for the staircase, which is on the other side of the nurses’ station.