Delaney had already tucked the scanner away, gun now in hand. She nodded once, silent communication between them.
They slipped through the door behind Vivian, footsteps careful, breath shallow. He immediately spotted Vivian, pushed ahead and caught her arm,halting her just in time.
“Stop,” he whispered in her ear. “You’ll get her killed if you charge in blind.”
Vivian’s chest heaved. She looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t speak. However, she did whip out a small handgun from her purse that was strapped cross-body.
Shit. Eli considered taking it from her, but this wasn’t the time or place to get into an argument. Besides, he couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to protect herself and her daughter.
Still, he didn’t like her being armed. This situation was dangerous enough without adding an extra gun to the mix.
“Do you know how to use that?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“I know how,” Vivian assured him, and he heard the fierce determination in her voice. Yeah, she wouldn’t be giving that gun up without a fight.
Delaney eased up beside them, gun raised. “We go together,” she murmured. “Slow. Quiet.”
Eli gave a single nod. His pulse was a hammer in his ears, but his grip was steady. They would get Ava out. They had to.
They stepped deeper into the darkened building, his boots scuffing the grit-covered floor. The old mental health institute felt like it was holding its breath. No lights. No electricity. Just shadows pressing in from all sides.
He pulled out his phone and flicked on the flashlight.
The narrow beam cut through the dark, bouncing off peeling paint and rust-streaked walls. Cracks lined the concrete floor like old scars. Water dripped somewhere in the distance, a slow and steady rhythm echoing off the high ceiling.
The place smelled of mildew and old insulation. Something metallic, too. Like rusted pipes or dried blood.
He swept the light across the front room. An overturned gurney lay against the wall, and a stack of broken furniture was heaped in the far corner. Worn-out wheelchairs and empty medical carts had been pushed aside, as if someone had tried to clear a path through the mess.
No sign of anyone. No sound at all.
But the floor told its own story.
Eli lowered the beam to the dust-covered tiles. Several sets of footprints crisscrossed the room. Some moved in straight lines. Others looked hurried.
He turned slightly and spoke just loud enough for Delaney to hear. “These prints are fresh. More than just Ava and Jason.”
She nodded, already glancing around with her gun drawn.
Eli’s grip tightened around his weapon. There were too many places for someone to hide. Every open doorway was a question mark. Every dark hallway a threat.
Beside him, Vivian fidgeted. “We have to keep going.”
Eli turned off the flashlight and glanced back toward the door. Rain still fell outside, faint and cold against the wind. He looked at Vivian and lowered his voice.
“Stay close,” he whispered. “No sudden moves.”
Then he and Delaney stepped forward into the black hall, the air around them thick with tension and silence.
Eli froze, one hand lifting slightly as Noah’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “We’ve got eyes on someone who came in through the rear entrance,” Noah relayed. “Dark raincoat. Couldn’t get a clear face.”
Eli exchanged a look with Delaney. “Lawrence?” he murmured. “Or Hale.”
“Could be a hired gun,” Delaney whispered back.
He didn’t like any of the options.
They moved deeper into the hall, every step muted by the thick layer of dust. With a dead grip on her gun, Vivian stayed close, her breath coming shallow and quick. Eli kept his weapon angled low but ready, his senses straining for the smallest noise, the faintest shift in the air.
