SHE LOCKED US IN WITH A MONSTER

The basement tunnels of the hospital smelled of bleach and old concrete.

Anthony led the way, carrying his unconscious mother over his shoulder. I walked closely beside Salvatore, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around his waist to keep him upright.

He was burning up. The synthetic toxin in his blood was accelerating.

“Keep breathing, Salvatore,” I commanded, my clinical voice taking over to mask my terror. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

“I’m fine, Ellen,” he grunted, heavily leaning on me. It was the first time he had used my first name.

“You’re in early-stage organ failure,” I corrected him. “Don’t lie to your nurse.”

A faint, breathless chuckle escaped his lips. “You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

“Then we make a good pair.”

We reached a heavy steel door at the end of the maintenance tunnel. Anthony kicked it open, leading us out into an empty alleyway where a black, unmarked SUV was waiting with the engine running.

Maria sat behind the wheel. She had slipped out the bathroom window before Daniel’s attack.

We loaded Rosa into the back seat. I climbed in beside Salvatore as Anthony took the passenger seat.

“St. Jude’s,” Anthony ordered.

Maria hit the gas, tearing out of the alley and into the slick, rain-swept streets of Chicago.

I checked Rosa’s pulse. It was fading.

“She doesn’t have much time,” I told Anthony. “Maybe an hour.”

Salvatore leaned his head back against the leather seat, closing his eyes. His breathing was becoming shallow.

“Anthony,” Salvatore whispered.

“I’m here, little brother.”

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” Salvatore’s voice was stripped of all its armor. He sounded like a terrified child. “When you found out what Dad was doing… why did you run?”

Anthony didn’t turn around. He stared out the windshield into the rain.

“I didn’t run, Sal. Dad caught me trying to dismantle the electric blanket that Christmas. He realized I knew about the drug trials.” Anthony swallowed hard. “He had his men take me to the docks. They shot me twice in the chest and threw me in the lake.”

I gasped, looking at the older man’s back.

“I survived because the freezing water slowed my heart rate,” Anthony continued softly. “A fisherman pulled me out. By the time I recovered, Dad had already staged my funeral. I knew if I came back, he wouldn’t miss a second time. And he would kill you to tie up loose ends.”

Salvatore reached out, his trembling hand gripping the back of Anthony’s seat.

Anthony reached back and covered his brother's hand.

“I’ve been watching you for thirty years, Sal,” Anthony said, his voice breaking. “Waiting for the old man to finally die so I could come home.”

Maria took a sharp turn, the tires squealing on the wet pavement.

The massive stone spires of St. Jude’s Cathedral loomed in the distance.

But as we pulled up to the front steps, my heart plummeted into my stomach.

There were four black vans parked horizontally across the cathedral’s entrance. Standing on the stone steps, holding high-powered rifles, were a dozen men in dark suits.

And standing in the center of them, protected by an umbrella, was Paul.

“He beat us here,” Maria said, throwing the SUV into reverse.

Before she could hit the gas, the radio in the dashboard crackled to life. It was a local frequency override.

A voice echoed through the speakers. It was raspy, ancient, and bone-chillingly calm.

“Hello, Salvatore,” the voice said.