He lunged, scything the air with a blade. Jack removed his jacket and used it to tangle up his weapon hand, and twisted it behind him. He plowed his foot into Sutton’s back, knocking him down. Sutton was fast and able to take a beating. Flipping back over he took out Jack’s leg and followed through with a strike to his neck with the ridge of his hand.
It took his breath and allowed Sutton to scramble for the blade he’d dropped.
Seconds, that’s all he had. There was no time to catch his breath, Jack fired up and threw himself onto the back of Sutton as he scrambled forward, his hand inches away from a makeshift blade made from a filed toothbrush and a razor. He cracked him twice in the ear and then put his left arm around Sutton’s neck while digging his knee into his back. Sutton’s fingers clawed at the earth until he latched onto the shank. In a stabbing frenzy, he launched his attack trying to get Jack off his back even as he rose. Here were two men over two hundred pounds, one gripping the other with the hope of choking him out while the other stabbed furiously over his shoulder. Only twice did the blade strike Jack but they were nicks more than deep wounds. Hanging on for dear life, Jack tightened his grip, cutting off air to the brain until Sutton’s legs buckled and he collapsed.
As Jack rolled off and tried to catch a breath, the hospital siren blared.
Minutes from now, cops would barrel in, restrain and throw them all in seclusion. Like a light switch turning on, Sutton gasped taking in a deep breath as he came up, then coughed hard. Jack rolled forward preparing for another attack when Charlie raced in, snagged up the shank near Sutton’s hand and stabbed him in the neck. It happened so fast.
“Charlie.”
He jabbed his finger at Jack. “Go. Get out of here before they come.”
“But—”
“Go!” he yelled as Sutton gripped his neck, toppled over and bled out on the ground. “He got what was coming to him.” Charlie looked over at Boone who was performing CPR because nurse Cross was struggling to breathe. As Jack rose to leave he saw her double over and start coughing which was a good sign. No doubt she’d suffered some vocal damage but at least she was alive.
He took off into the grove of trees just as cops burst out of the building, their dogs yelping and tugging on the short chains. He glanced back at Charlie who laid down, placed the shank beside him and interlocked his fingers behind his head. The shank. He didn’t even try to get rid of it. He wanted them to know it was him but why? Why had he done that? What had Sutton done to him? There wasn’t much about the people or the place that made sense. That’s why they were here.
“You okay?” Boone asked. He placed a hand on her back as she sucked in air and rubbed her neck with her other hand. She nodded but didn’t say anything. Boone looked on at the chaotic scene as hospital cops took control, placing all patients in restraints and calling for paramedics over the radio. Where was Jack? He surveyed the terrain before security made sure Boone was okay and released him to return to the chapel.
He returned with a heavy heart knowing full well he’d have to postpone the memorial. Any time hospital police were called in to deal with a murder, patients had to go back to their rooms and the entire facility was placed on lockdown.
Nurse Byrd looked shaken up as she guided the patients back.
He smiled at her, hoping to raise her spirit, but it was useless.
Boone collected his belongings and left the equipment. He closed the trunk on his vehicle and got inside. He fired up the engine and rolled out, glancing one final time at the chaos. Some days he questioned whether it was worth it, whether time invested in the patients’ lives had any effect at all. Charlie had been a model patient not prone to violence and yet in an instant had snapped and taken another person’s life without hesitation. It was in these moments that he was reminded of the dangers of working with the mentally ill.
He eased off the gas as he came down to the sally port and a hospital cop stepped out of the booth while another one was on the phone, no doubt speaking to his colleagues back at the facility. Both of them look disturbed and preoccupied. Boone brought his window down.
“Hell of a day, eh?”
“Telling me. You all good?” The guard asked.
“Yeah, will have to come back next week.”
The guard glanced in and asked him to pop the trunk. He did so and the cop came around. Just as he was leaning in, the alarm at the facility went off again. “Terry, you got that?”
“They need more support, you done?”
The guard groaned and slammed the trunk shut without properly looking. “Yeah, he’s good.” The gate groaned open and they waved him out. His tires bit into gravel, then the vehicle bounced up onto asphalt and away from the hospital.
A few minutes along the long stretch of road cutting through the forest, Boone reached down to his glove compartment for a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out with his teeth and tossed the pack on the passenger seat. As he looked up to light it, his eyes widened and he nearly lost control of the vehicle. There in the back, now partially covered by the heavy blankets, was Jack Winchester staring back. “I thought pastors didn’t smoke?”
“What the? How did…?”
The car screeched a little as it swerved.
Jack placed a hand on his shoulder. “Settle down, pastor, and keep your eyes on the road.” He glanced back. “You’ll be fine. Just keep going and take us back to your place.”
“That second alarm. That was
