Page 129 of A Stop in Time
They never succeeded, of course. Because someone was instructed to kill them.
Me.
When my palm touches the handle, preparing to enter, more cognizance of the past comes trickling in.
My body had given out, and these motherfuckers still insisted on reviving me.
Because he wasn’t done with me.
“You’re my prized pupil.” Dr. Pinney would whisper this when no one else was within earshot.
Even in catatonic states he’d induced, I somehow remember this. He’d stroke my face so affectionately. Possessively.
With the gun still in hand, I silently crack open the door and am confronted by the sight of a man and woman who are seated. But that’s not what sends a spike of terror pulsing through me.
Both appear completely unaffected by my ability to stop time. Immediately, my mind replays what the intern had said about this particular room. “Effectively, it insulates it from anything that can be disruptive.”
Fuckfuckfuck! Even though a part of me knows it’s likely futile, I press my thumb and finger together.
Nothing happens. Not a damn thing. I should’ve known better than to think it’d be that easy.
The man and woman face an enormous viewing window. One-way, soundproof glass separates them from where Dr. Pinney is currently isolated with a young woman, accompanied by an intern.
I don’t recognize the intern, so he must also be new. Even from this distance, I spot the sweat lining his upper lip and the anxious way he tugs at his collar. It gives the impression this is the last place he wants to be.
In this section of space, the wall opposite the window is covered with labeled drawers containing syringes, medicine vials, and other items.
The man and woman turn in a startled rush once they notice me enter, their white lab coats swishing around their bodies. When I register their faces, shock batters away at me with tsunami-like force.
The trial doctor, Dr. Phillips, and the new nurse, Tabitha, who took Lara’s place.
Dr. Phillips’ mouth goes slack, and he scrambles away from me. Palms held up in surrender, he slams back against the drawers of supplies with a wince. “Easy, Mackenzie.”
“How could you?” I raise the gun, aiming at the man I thought had been trying to help me all this time. But he’d been in on it.
Dr. Pinney may have made me into a monster, but this man had ensured that I’d stay that way.
“You took the Hippocratic oath and vowed to never do harm.” When my voice cracks, I force myself to regain composure, allowing anger to rush to the forefront. My chest rises and falls with heaving breaths, my heart thudding against my rib cage. “You broke that vow.”
I fire the gun, and the first bullet hits him square in his chest. He clutches at the wound, eyes bulging at the sight of blood pouring out. I fire another shot at his head, and his blood and brain matter decorate the shelves behind him. His body teeters before slumping to the floor.
Tabitha rushes at me, a syringe in one hand and a large surgical blade in the other. It elicits a flash of memory of how they’d often restrain me and slice my back as punishment for not reacting “properly.”
She slashes at my arm holding the gun, and I jerk back, my finger pulling the trigger reflexively. The bullet goes wide, landing in the wall.
When she lashes out again with the blade, I deflect it with my arm, barely registering the lance of pain, because she lunges at me with the syringe.
I grab her wrist, cinching it tightly. My arm shakes with the effort to push it out of range from sinking into my flesh. I fire off another shot, and because of our struggle, it only grazes the side of her cheek. Dammit, I only have one more bullet left.
She suddenly slams her head into my face, sending me reeling back against the door, the impact rendering me sightless for a moment. Excruciating agony erupts and wetness drips down past my upper lip. Fuck. This bitch broke my nose.
A deep, biting pain along my wrist from where’s she sunk her blade in has me dropping the gun from my hold. It skitters along the tile floor, out of reach.
I dodge another attempted strike of the syringe and use all my effort to shove her back. She stumbles, nearly losing her balance, but manages to regain her footing.
Her face is an ugly mask of hatred. “I told him you were worthless. That you’d betray us. But he wouldn’t listen.” She sneers at me. “He thinks you’re so special.”
I force a laugh. “Jealous much?”