ON HANDS AND KNEES, Gillian groped through the darkness, the familiar room now just a series of tactile sensations on her fingertips. The cold, clean-swept tile floors, the hard steel tube of the hospital bed's frame, the soft warmth of a blanket with a body beneath it. Using the bed as both a support and a navigational tool, Gillian rose to her feet.

As she stood, she realized that she could see a little. Just outlines. There was just enough dawn light from beyond the curtained window to turn the darkness into a series of semi-familiar shapes.

The girl had gone quiet, and in the silence Gillian felt like she could hear the whole hospital sleeping. From beyond the walls, a soft beep came from the life-support machine in the room next door. Other than that, there was no sound. The dead silence was eerie. She should be hearing Tim and Shane by now: The light in the hallway had gone off with the room's light, which meant that the power outage was likely spread over the whole ER, maybe even the whole hospital.

But there was nothing.

"Tim?" she called timidly into the dark. "Shane? Anyone there?"

Getting no response, Gillian walked carefully toward the door, feeling her way across the floor slowly with shuffling steps. At the door, she poked her head into the hallway and was greeted with only more darkness.

Where was everybody? Gillian felt like she was in a bad dream, and if she could just wake up it would all be over. Maybe the whole night had been a dream, and there had been no man with dark hair who made the lights flicker.

But Gillian knew that wasn't true.

In the hallway, at the far end by the swinging doors that led to the ER's reception room, something moved. Gillian was just about to call out when she heard Tim's voice moan weakly. The sound seemed to float down the hallway like a ghost. Gillian froze, listening and watching, her head still barely peeking through the door.

The shape she'd seen in the hallway swung toward the sound of Tim's voice, and one of the doors creaked open. There was a scraping sound, like metal on metal, and the entire hallway lit up for a brief second in a blinding strobe of blue light.

In that snapshot, Gillian saw Tim Rollins crawling through the swinging door on his belly, his fat hand bloody and stretched out in front of him, holding the door open. More blood covered the floor under him, streaking back into the reception room where he'd crawled over the floor.

And in front of him, standing over him, a tall figure in a black cloak holding a gleaming rifle toward his head. Gillian wasn't sure she actually saw it in the flash or if it was just a vague impression, but it looked like Tim's head caved in.

As quickly as the light had come, it faded away, leaving only bright orange pricks in Gillian's vision. She gasped and the cloaked figure whirled to face down the hallway.

Gillian ducked back into the room and clamped a hand over her mouth. Her breath came in hot spurts against her palm, and she willed her racing heart to calm down. It beat through her body like a war drum. Gillian was sure the man in the cloak could hear it. That, or her wheezing, terrified breaths.

For several moments, Gillian crouched like that in the darkness, just inside the door. When no further sounds came from the hallway, she slowly rose on quaking legs.

Then she heard it. Just the softest whisper. A door closing on a hydraulic hinge. Further down the hallway. Room 2B, Gillian thought. Three doors away.

Someone just killed Tim.

The thought raced wildly through her head, and again she felt that weird, hazy sensation that she was in a dream. Through the drywall, another muffled rrap sliced across her ears, accompanied by a split-second flash of light from the hallway.

This isn't a dream, Gillian told herself. There's a killer in the hospital, so just get yourself together and do something, Missy.

There was a linen closet in the corner of the room. It was small, but Gillian thought she'd be able to fit beneath the lowest shelf if she sat down. As softly as she could, Gillian shuffled across the room toward the closet. Her knee bumped the edge of the bed where Rachel was still sleeping, and Gillian froze, listening.

Rrap.

This one was closer. Two rooms away.

Gillian scurried faster. The room was getting lighter. She opened the closet door, then paused. The blonde girl was curled under the window, still shivering despite the blanket Gillian had laid across her.

With two strides, Gillian was at the girl's side and sweeping her into her arms. The girl moaned, but didn't wake up. Gillian silently thanked whatever god was hanging out in the sky, then carried the girl with her to the closet.

Behind her, the hallway door eased open.

Thanks for reading my story! Please VOTE and let me know what you think of it so far, then check out Chapter 20!