Coma

With great effort she began to pull her right leg from the far corner of the cabinet. Then she heard footsteps in the hall. There was only a second. Her foot went back where it had been. She pulled in her arm, pushing herself into the cabinet as far as possible. The elbow of the drain from the sink above dug into her back.

The man came back into the room at a fast walk. He came between the sink and the table and kicked the cabinet door shut. The sound and compression made Susan’s ears ring. She heard him strain with the second tank. Then his footsteps left the room and receded down the corridor.

Susan stayed still for another two or three minutes before she dared to move, listening. There were no footsteps, only a muffled laugh from the first OR. Susan extracted her cramped body from beneath the sink.

A spray can fell out onto the floor and rolled a short distance. Susan froze. Nothing. Then she ran for the door into the unlit operating room.

She had to pause once again to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Here the forms of the overhead operating lights were visible.

Carefully Susan moved to the common wall with the corridor, feeling for the door handle. Once she found it, she cracked the door and looked into the scrub area immediately beyond.

At that instant a piercing alarm shattered the stillness and all the lights went on in the previously darkened room. In a panic Susan let go of the door and turning threw herself against the wall expecting an assailant.

The room was empty.

A red light was blinking on and off next to a small loudspeaker. The loudspeaker crackled: “There is an unauthorized intruder in the building.

Female. She must be detained immediately. I repeat ... there is an unauthorized individual in the building ... detain immediately.” The loudspeaker went dead. Susan sighed in relief. She left the OR and peered around the wall of the scrub area. The corridor was dear.

Two white-uniformed guards strode briskly through the main ward, oblivious to the hundred-odd human beings strung op around them. Each had a pistol in his hand. The larger of the two was listening to his Sony two-way radio. He replaced it on his belt. “I’m to take the elevator in the computer room up to two. You’re to head through the morgue and down to the machinery spaces.”

The two men entered the corridor beyond the ward.

“And remember, our orders are clear. If you find her and she comes along willingly, fine; if not then shoot her. But shoot her in the head.

They may want the kidneys or the heart, depending on her tissue type.”

The two men split. The large man walked down the corridor and entered the computer room. Methodically he checked the room, then he summoned the elevator.

Susan dashed down the OR reception area, past the first operating room. She opened the door to the dressing area but heard voices within.

Without hesitation she changed her plan and turned for a door she knew must open into the main corridor. Then she spotted a large pair of scissors on the reception desk. She picked them up; they were a weapon of sorts. Then she let herself into the main corridor.

The corridor was still empty, to Susan’s intense relief. She could see all the way down to the closed elevator doors at the far end. Taking a deep breath, she sped toward the elevator.

She was about halfway down the hundred-and-fifty-foot hall when the elevator arrived. Susan slowed as the doors quivered and opened. The guard stepped out and Susan stopped. Each was startled to see the other.

“All right, young lady, we’d like to talk to you downstairs.” The guard’s voice was not threatening. He began to advance slowly toward Susan, keeping his pistol behind his back.

Susan took a few indecisive steps backward, then she spun and raced toward the OR area. The guard pelted after her. In desperation Susan tried several doors. The first was locked; so was the second. The guard was almost on her. The handle of the third door turned and the door opened.

She rolled around the door, trying to slam it shut. But the guard gripped the edge of the door with his left hand and wedged his left foot between the door and the casing.

Susan pushed with every ounce of strength she could muster but it was hardly an even match. The guard was over two hundred pounds, and his weight and strength prevailed despite Susan’s efforts. The door began to open.

Keeping her shoulder and left hand against the door, Susan gripped the scissors like a dagger. With a quick overhand stroke, she plunged the scissors into the guard’s hand.