Marin Memorial Hospital

Marin City, California

February 22

Quinn grabbed the front of Harry's hospital gown, dragged him to the bed, and pushed him down on the mattress. Stealing Blockman's velcroid cross-trainers, she tossed them at him. "Put those on."

Crossing to the window, she gave Harry a watch-and-learn look, slipped past the shattered glass, and grabbing the windowsill toe-crawled down the brick wall toward a stone ledge about a foot wide. Inches short, she hovered over the ledge, mentally crossed her fingers, and let go dropping onto the ledge, shocked she didn't take a nose-dive into the parking lot.

She looked up to see Harry reluctantly duck his six-foot-three-inch frame through the shattered window as he easily stepped down on the ledge.

Show off.

Being short sucks.

"You OK?" she asked reaching up to put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know this is insane, and we are going to die."

"Seriously, Harry. Have a little faith."

Quinn gripped the mortar between the bricks and started down the ledge for the gardening carts maybe ten feet away.

"Hey!" A male voice called, and she peered around Harry to see Roundman leaning out the shattered window, his face apple red with fury, jabbing an index finger at them as if it were a repeating rifle. Get your asses back here. Right now. I mean it!"

Quinn tried not to laugh—the man was comical—but sobered when she saw Pierce appear beside him practically salivating as she glared at her and Harry.

This is what an alligator looks like when it orders take out.

"I'm not going to make it," Harry said clinging to the brick wall, exhaustion written over his every atom.

"Yes, you are," Quinn covered his hand with hers, inching it down the bricks, his feet having no other option but to follow.

She peered around Harry's shoulder and saw Roundman's squat form leaning out the shattered window, his face apple red with fury.

"Almost there," she said as she quickened her pace. "Just a few more inches."

Harry gave her a slow, wolfish grin.

"You're such an adolescent," she groaned.

Harry's grin broadened.

A few more steps, and they were over the closest gardening cart, its open bed filled with polished landscaping rock.

She gave him an 'I'll-go-first' look. He gave her a vigorous "you've-lost-your-mind" shake of his head.

Quinn took a deep breath, and ignoring the look of horror on Harry's face, jumped, landing in the middle of the rock-filled bed. The rocks shifted under her feet, throwing her off balance, and she tumbled over the side landing hard on the tarmac and smacking her cheek.

Oww—

She struggled to her feet, looked up and saw Harry glued to the wall. The look in his eyes said he'd changed his mind about jumping.

Shit—

A sudden gust of wind ruffled Harry's gown, and Quinn's eyes immediately found the ground. "Move your ass which I can see, by the way!"

Nothing in the employee handbook prepared me for this.

She heard rather than saw Harry land on the rocks, shocked as hell when he toppled over the side and careened into her. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, Harry coming out on top.

Of course.

"Get off me!" she spat as she struggled out from underneath him.

"Leave me," he said. "I'll only slow you down."

Up on her feet, Quinn wrapped her fists in the front of his gown and leaned in, her nose bare inches from his. "You know, I'm getting fucking tired of you telling me what to do!"

She yanked and Harry reluctantly assisted. Up on his feet, she walked him back, and he landed on the cart's passenger seat. Scrambling across him, she dropped down in the driver's seat and reached for the ignition.

No key.

"Why can't I ever catch a break?" she groaned. She pounded on the steering column. Kept on pounding until the panel popped off and a jumble of wires poked out.

Pulling a keyring from her pocket, Quinn singled out a small pocketknife, opened the blade and sliced through the wires. Twisting a couple together, the cart sputtered to life. Gear shift in reverse, she backed the cart up then swung it to the right just in time to see the parking lot gate close and lock in place trapping them inside, no other way out.

Well, crap.

She slammed on the brakes, and Harry nearly collided with the dashboard.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he railed, but she barely heard him, wrapped inside a sudden "we've-no-hope-in-hell" induced inertia, feeling escape slipping through her fingers.

Harry started to get out of the cart.

"What are you doing?" she snapped and grabbing his gown, struggled to haul him back on the seat.

"Trying to save your ass. It's me they want."

"You know, your ego is amazing," she murmured as her brain clicked into overdrive.

The hill. The cart. The incline up. The decline down. The odds.

"Find Jack," Harry said as he reclaimed his hospital gown. "Tell him everything that's happened."

"Stop telling me what to do!" Turning the cart around, she pointed it at the incline.

"You gotta be kidding me." Harry braced a hand against the dash. "We won't make it."

But Quinn couldn't hear him over the scream of the engine, one foot on the brake, the other on the gas pedal pressed to the floor.

Too much speed, and we'll hit the incline with a thud and flip over. Too little and we won't have the momentum to make it over the top.

"You might want to grab on to something," she warned as she took her foot off the brake.

The cart lurched forward. Harry yelled words she didn't quite catch, too intent on meeting the slope as it rushed up to greet them.

They hit the incline a notch under full speed. The force of the collision popped the cart forward and up the steep slope just as she hoped it would. But rather than crest and roll down the other side, it teetered on the slope's narrow peak, gravity threatening to pull it back into the path of a several security guards who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Quinn jumped up and smashed her shoulder into the windscreen using her slight weight to try and tip the cart forward.

"You're gonna get us killed," Harry growled as he mimicked her move.

The cart rocked forward, and Quinn could see what was on the other side: a steep drop through a thickly littered hillside of evergreen stumps, craggy boulders, and tall, broad pines crowding the forest floor far below.

"We are going to die!" Harry repeated and threw himself into the windshield one more time.

Equilibrium disturbed, gravity grabbed the cart's front wheels in its invisible fist, yanked it forward, and the cart plummeted down the hillside, Harry cursing, Quinn squealing, her hands impotent on the steering wheel as she braced for the inevitable.