Prison Break Hostage
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Anna J. Stewart
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16.1K
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17
Chapter 1
Three hours and one minute. Dr. Ashley McTavish smothered a yawn and reached for the last of her stone-cold coffee. Just three hours and sixty seconds until she could sink into a nice hot bath and soak the last eight days out of her system. “Note to self.” She leaned forward to peer into the black night through her windshield. “No more volunteering to cover for people you barely know.” More like, no more being conned by a small-town doctor desperate for some alone time with his wife.
She was such a sucker for romance. Her dubious experience with it didn’t matter; the thought just made her heart happy. After spending time with the charming sixty-something Dr. Fallon at a Northern California medical conference months before, she’d found herself offering her services so the good doctor could take his missus on a five-day cruise for their anniversary. She’d been new to the area and unemployed at the time. She’d needed to make professional contacts. Not that serving as the only doctor to fewer than two hundred people in a town so small she could have sneezed and missed it expanded her network. But she’d had some interesting visitors in the small Shasta Lake town and gotten her fill of fresh eggs, homemade pies and carb-laden casseroles.
Staring into the receding darkness off I-5, she wished she’d waited the few extra hours until dawn before heading out. The expansive overnight road construction on the main highway meant she was white-knuckling the unfamiliar, lonely drive. She didn’t even want to think what these neglected roads were doing to the tires of her new SUV, but according to her GPS, she’d be home in—she squinted at the dashboard clock—two hours and fifty-nine minutes.
She’d enjoyed her time caring for Dr. Fallon’s patients, and the slow pace gave her lots of time to catch up on her reading. Still, she missed her new job as the head of the emergency department at Folsom General. So much so she’d used her comfortable turquoise hospital scrubs at Dr. Fallon’s clinic. But at least she wasn’t going to miss Chloe Ann’s christening. She couldn’t wait to witness her brother, Jack, officially become godfather to Eden and Cole Delaney’s infant daughter next weekend.
She tapped a button on the dimly lit dash screen and activated her phone. “Call Greta.” Her new sister-in-law was a notorious night owl and Ashley needed something to keep her awake and alert since her coffee had run out.
The highway and back roads in this part of Northern California were known for their long stretches of boredom and lack of scenery, but at this time of night she may as well have been flying a ship in outer space, given the only good light came from the moon and stars. As Greta’s phone rang, Ashley flipped her visor down to block against the oncoming high beams. She hadn’t seen a car in miles. Nice to be reminded there was still someone else about despite the van’s excessive speed as it whooshed past.
“This is Greta. My phone’s either off or buried where I can’t find it. You know what to do.” Beep.
“Typical,” Ashley grumbled. Her sister-in-law’s attention was probably a thousand percent focused on painting a new canvas. “Hey, Greta, it’s me. Just calling to check in. I’m on my way home now. I’m free for lunch tomorrow if you want to catch up and tell me all about the honeymoon.” Ashley cringed. That sounded weird. She didn’t need a lunch to know how her brother and his wife spent the last week and a half. She’d been married before. She knew how honeymoons worked. “Anyway, call me when you get a chance. Bye. Holy—”
A loud bang exploded ahead of her. The headlights coming toward her swerved into her lane. Instinct had Ashley aiming for the narrow shoulder. She hit the brakes and skidded to a stop as a dark-colored bus with Sheriff written in bright neon letters above the windshield shot past. She could see the driver struggling with the steering wheel as the bus went completely sideways. Ashley opened her window and leaned out just as the vehicle flipped. Metal pieces flew into the air as the bus rolled. Banging crash after banging crash exploding into the silent night. Glass shattered. Metal crunched. Smoke billowed out of the back of the bus as it slid to rest on its side, tires spinning.
Instinct and training kicked in. Ashley flew out of her car, raced around the back, and yanked out her emergency bag and flashlight. She ran full out, surprised at how far the bus had skidded. It was pure luck the bus had ended up directly under one of the sporadic streetlights. She could see deep black welts in the cement, could hear groans of pain, curses of anger. Cries of fear.
The rear emergency door on the bus burst open. Ashley dived toward it as two men stumbled out, the larger of the two clutching an obviously broken arm against his chest. The thinner, wiry man had blood streaming down the side of his face. Both were wearing bright orange prison jumpsuits. Both were handcuffed and belly chained.
The one with the head wound dropped to the ground. He groaned and rolled onto his back, stared dazedly up at the stars before his lids drifted shut.
Ashley looked to the other man, who had braced himself against the back of the bus. “I’m a doctor. Can you walk on your own?”
“I’m okay,” he croaked. He gestured to his friend. “Not sure about Clive.”
Neither was she. She dropped down beside the suddenly still man, reached into her bag and snapped on a pair of gloves. She checked his eyes with her penlight, looking for pupil reaction. “He probably has a concussion. And that gash is going to need stitches. How many more are inside?” She didn’t want to move this one until she had to. Darn it, she’d left her phone in the car. She dug around for the spare disposable she carried in her bag. No luck.
“There were six of us, plus two guards and the driver.”
“What’s your name?” She got up to check on him.
“Javier. Javi.”
“Hi, Javi, I’m Ashley. I’m just going to take a quick look at you, okay?”
“I’m fine.” He pushed her hand away. “Busted arm. Had worse.”
With no time to argue, she pointed to Clive. “You go over there with your friend, okay? I’ll check on you both later.”
She grabbed the flashlight, headed for the open door. The second she crawled inside, she was stopped by two firm hands on her shoulders. “You need to leave.”
Ashley straightened, taken aback by the almost gentle quality of his voice. He was tall, well over six feet, and if he hadn’t been a convicted criminal, he probably could have been an MMA superstar. She could see the outlines of tattoos on his neck, a scar arcing from temple to nose on the right side of his face and eyes the color of a summer sea beneath too-long hair. What the—Ashley attempted to shake off his grip. “I’m a doctor. I can help.”
“Go. Now.” He lowered his voice, leaned over her to the point she couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, anything but him. “Get in your car and drive away. You don’t know what—”
“Lucky, Valeri’s hurt bad, man. We gotta get him out! We gotta call Taras and get him back here! Man, oh, man. This is all going to crap!”
Ashley planted a hand on Lucky’s chest and shoved. She may as well have been trying to move a mountain. “Out of my way.”
“Lucky? You hear me?” A small man tripped and shuffled his way toward them. “Valeri’s hurt.”
“I heard you, Elliot.” The rumble of Lucky’s voice rippled through Ashley.
“Then what—” Beady brown eyes locked onto Ashley. “She a nurse?”
“She’s a doctor.” Ashley used Elliot to wedge herself past Lucky and clicked on her flashlight. “Who else is hurt?”
“Valeri’s all that matters.” Elliot scrambled around her, pointing at someone.
“I’m not anyone’s private physician.” She bent down beside the prone man.
“Look, Doc—” Lucky began.
Ashley shot to her feet so fast the man stepped back. “Tell me to leave one more time, I dare you.” She moved in, looked up at him, eye to throat. “And it’s Ashley. Or Doctor. Doc makes me sound like a soap opera heroine.” Was it her imagination or did his lips twitch?
“Don’t know why you’re bothering with them,” a uniformed officer yelled from the front of the bus. “They’re bottom of the food chain.”
“But they’re first on my route,” Ashley shot back. “Can you move everything?” she called to the officer, and at the same time bent over an unconscious man to assess his condition. His skin was glistening with blood. She pressed her fingers against the side of his neck.
“I can move,” the guard answered.
“Good. Then get up and move out. Can someone get me some more—”
A light clicked on. She shielded her eyes, looked over her shoulder and found Lucky holding an additional flashlight.
“Put that down!” The guard yelled and reached to his side. An odd panic settled on his face.
“It’s a flashlight, not a truncheon,” Ashley snapped, continuing to search for a pulse on the unconscious man’s neck. “And where are the keys to their restraints? They can’t help if they can’t move.”
“Then they can’t help.” The guard seemed to still be fumbling for something.
Lucky bent down beside her and her adrenaline surged. She could smell sweat and blood. Along with tangy, metallic fear. Whether it was her own or his, she couldn’t be certain.
“What’s his name?” Ashley almost whispered, asking about the man she was treating.
“Dante,” Lucky said. “We call him Inferno. He’s gone?”
Ashley nodded, looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“Dr. Ashley,” Elliot whined. “Or whatever I can call you, would you please—”
“Tell me that one has a nickname,” Ashley muttered and grabbed Lucky’s flashlight.
Lucky’s expression didn’t flicker. “Badger.”
“Fits. Once you get the others outside, please go and help the guard. Also, there’s a phone back in my car. We need to call 911.”
She didn’t wait for a response before she moved deeper into the bus, the expansive beam of the industrial flashlight a relief. She stopped where Elliot, aka Badger, was holding a vigil over another man, this one with similar tattoos to the ones Lucky had. Although this guy, Valeri, had them on either side of his face, down his neck and no doubt under his shirt. Blood stained the side of his jumpsuit and white shirt beneath. Ashley shifted the light, then shoved it at Badger. “Hold this.” She ripped open Valeri’s jumpsuit, raised the stained white T-shirt to expose more tattooed skin. Cyrillic, she thought. Intricate. Work like that took time and patience. And it hurt. A lot. She pressed her fingers against his skin. “He’s got at least one broken rib. Maybe more.” She couldn’t be sure without X-rays.
Ashley felt Valeri’s chest, abdomen, blocking out the sounds of groans and warnings continuing to come from the guard. “His pulse is weak. I’m betting he has internal bleeding. I need to get him outside. I can’t work in here.” She looked at the guard, whose name badge said Bradley. “I need help to move him, Bradley.”
“They need your help, too.” He pointed to his fellow guard and the bus driver beyond the metal grate. One look at them told her Bradley was wrong.
“They’re dead. The driver has a broken neck. Your partner’s chest hasn’t risen or fallen since I’ve been here. And I’m still going to need them to move Valeri outside.”
He glared at her. “I’m not giving you the keys to their cuffs.”
“Have it your way.” She reached up and pulled out the metal comb in her hair. She held it out to Badger. “Can you make this work?”
His eyes lit up and he bent out one of the teeth. “Oh, yeah, I can.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Bradley groaned as he shoved himself to his knees. “They’re dangerous—”
“They’re injured,” Ashley cut him off. “That’s all I care about.” She heard a couple of clicks and Badger whipped the cuffs off Valeri’s wrists, untangled them from the belly chain. “Do Lucky next. He can do yours. Then both of you come back here and help carry Valeri.” She took Badger’s place as Bradley moved closer. She leaned down to listen to Valeri’s breathing.
“He going to make it?” Bradley asked.
“Can’t say one way or the other just yet.” But Valeri’s breathing wasn’t good. She could hear the wheezing even without a stethoscope. “I need my bag. I left it outside.”
“My leg’s sore.”
“How about you try before you complain.” Ashley caught Lucky and Badger talking outside the door. “Hey! You two planning a party? Bring me my bag!” She added to Bradley, “You can leave anytime.”
“You’ve got to be the dumbest person I’ve ever met,” Bradley muttered as he kicked himself free of the collapsed seat. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“My choice.” It wasn’t the first bad one she’d made.
Valeri sucked in a breath, blinked open his eyes. His skin was pale, making the ink stand out even more, and when he looked at her, his eyes were the color of polar ice. She laid a gentle hand on his barrel of a chest.
“Valeri, my name is Ashley. I’m a doctor. I’m going to help you, but I need you to stay still for right now, okay?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a quick nod, then cursed. “Hurts. Can’t breathe.”
“You’ve got internal injuries. I’m going to do what I can, but you need a hospital. We’ll get you there as soon as possible.” Frustrated with waiting, she headed back to the door. “You find my phone?” Lucky didn’t answer as he finished unlocking Badger’s cuffs. “I need you to—”
“Doc!” Bradley yelled from inside. “He’s coughing up blood!”
Ashley swore. “Hand me my bag.” She caught it just as Lucky threw it to her. There wasn’t time to move Valeri before she cleared his breathing. “I need more light. As much as you can give me. You have to keep him still. I don’t have any anesthesia to give him.” She grabbed Lucky’s wrist and dragged him behind her. It was like pulling a boulder. “What do you eat for breakfast, rocks or something?”
“Cocoa Pebbles.”
Ashley choked on a laugh. He had a sense of humor. Bonus point for him. They moved aside as Bradley half hobbled off the bus. “You can move? Great. Turn around. You’re going to help.”
Bradley narrowed his eyes as if thinking about arguing. Instead, he muttered, “Yeah, yeah,” and hobbled back. In that flash of a moment, Ashley noticed how young he was. Midtwenties maybe? With bright, suspicious eyes and a head full of brown curls.
“C-can’t breathe,” Valeri wheezed when she dropped back down to his side.
“I know.” She dug in her bag for a decompression needle. “This will hurt. A lot.”
Valeri’s eyes glistened. “Good. Means I’m alive.”
A chill raced down her spine. His tone was pure evil. She chastised herself for the wild thought and focused again. She had a job to do.
“Here we go.” She popped the cap off the thin-gauge needle and inserted it just above the third intercostal rib. She waited a few seconds, listening for the slight whoosh of air. She heard it, but it was weak, and a thin trickle of blood bubbled up and out of the needle. She’d been right. He was bleeding into his lung.
Despite the fact he was breathing a little easier, the effect wouldn’t last long. The fluid would keep building. “Okay, step two. I’ve got to drain the spot, which means finding the tear.” She shoved Valeri’s clothing aside, slathered alcohol gel all over the wound. It wasn’t the best way to sterilize, but it would have to do. “Lucky, he’s going to fight me. You need to hold him still. Hands on his shoulders.”
“How will you see?”
She’d stuck her penlight between her teeth and looked up at him.
“You do know how to improvise.” Lucky did as he was told.
“What do you want me to do?” Bradley ducked down beside her.
“Hold the light,” Ashley managed to say. And Bradley reached toward her mouth. “Not the penlight.” Her voice was muffled and she jerked her head to the one on the floor pointed at them. “That one.”
“Yeah, sorry. Here.” He aimed the flashlight at Valeri’s chest and gagged.
“Don’t you puke,” Ashley ordered after she spit out the penlight. “You wait until I’m done.” With a scalpel she made a small incision into Valeri’s side. As expected, his entire body tensed and he jerked. “Try not to move.” She pressed two fingers into the opening, wincing as she felt for the tear.
“So, uh, Ashley...you do this for a living?” Bradley gasped.
“Hand her that tubing,” Lucky ordered. “She’s going to need it—”
“Now.” Using her free hand, Ashley pushed the tubing in between her fingers, guiding it into the wound. “Come on, come on.” Valeri groaned. Sweat broke out on his temple, trickled down his face. She couldn’t believe he was still conscious. Most people would have passed out long ago. “Almost there. Almost—”
“Got it.” Lucky aimed the light and they could see the blood flow freely out of the tube. He looked at her. “You’re good.”
“You have to say that,” Ashley said with a small smile and wiped a hand across her forehead. Valeri’s breathing eased. The wheezing lessened. “I’m all you’ve got.”
She taped the tubing in place, then with assistance from Bradley and Lucky, wrapped Valeri’s chest tight, leaving the tube open to continue to drain. “It’ll hold until they can get him into surgery. Did 911 say how long they were going to be?” Where were the sirens? Even this far away from a town or city, she should have heard them by now.
“I didn’t call 911,” Lucky said and earned an approving nod from Valeri.
“What do you mean you didn’t call? I told you to—”
“He doesn’t follow your orders.” Valeri’s voice could have frozen lava. “He follows mine.”
“It’s time for you to go now, Dr. Ashley.” Lucky grabbed hold of her arm and started to haul her to her feet. She twisted out of his hold.
It had taken her until this moment to process exactly the situation she was in. These were dangerous men. Criminals. Probably killers. “Yeah.” She nodded, and swore she saw relief in Lucky’s eyes. Snapping off her gloves, she then grabbed her needle and scalpel. “Right, I’ll just get my stuff—”
She heard a gun cock and froze with her hands halfway to her bag.
“You’re not going anywhere, Doc.” Valeri’s words were weak but clear.
She turned, slowly, and her mouth went desert dry. Valeri had a gun and he was holding it on her. “You’re not going to shoot me—I saved you. Saved your life.” Wrong. She could see it in the man’s ice-blue eyes. Dead eyes. Happy thoughts of her family, her friends, surged through her to the point she shivered.
Instinctively, she looked to Lucky, who in turn looked as stoic as a Roman statue.
Bradley gasped, his hand going to his empty holster. “That’s my gun.”
Ashley reached out, squeezed the young guard’s arm. “It’s okay.” Fear, cold as ice and twice as sharp, sliced through her. She knew that look, that vacant expression in Valeri’s eyes. “No one else has to get hurt. Everyone can—”
Valeri fired.
Ashley would have screamed if she’d had the chance. Bradley’s arm jerked in her grasp. For what felt like a long moment she stared at him in shock.
“Bradley?” Ashley touched his chest, but it was too late. The bullet had hit him straight in the heart. He slumped out of her hold. Dead.
“Like you said, Doctor.” Valeri pushed himself up on one arm. She swallowed the bile climbing into her throat as he again aimed the weapon on her. “You’re all we’ve got.” He cocked the gun again. “You can either come with us or join him. Your choice.”
