On the street below, Mahsood and Brand got into a shiny BMW and drove off.
Trevor forced a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about Ian too much. According to Ivy, he’s been running them and everyone else in circles for the better part of three days. I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
Brooklyn didn’t look convinced.
“While Mahsood and Brand are away and most of the orderlies are out in the woods, we should seize the opportunity and try to get into the isolation ward,” he said, both because it was the best time to try and because Brooklyn looked like she could use a distraction. “We could be in and out of there in a flash and catching up with Ian in a couple of hours.”
Trevor had been looking for a chance to sneak into the isolation ward since Friday, but the opportunity had never presented itself, which had been frustrating as hell. Since their meeting with Ivy, Mahsood and Brand had that part of the Stillwater facility under constant guard by anywhere from four to eight men. He and Brooklyn had tried to go to the janitor’s room several times and hadn’t gotten close even once. Mahsood and his goons had just given him and Brooklyn their first—and maybe only—chance to get where they needed to go. Trevor couldn’t waste this opportunity.
The thought of meeting up with Ian soon seemed to brighten Brooklyn’s mood. With a small smile, she wandered casually over to move the white piece of surgical tape on the far window in the corner. The two of them had been taking turns moving that damn piece of tape every four hours since late Saturday afternoon, and it was getting old. He was ready to get into the isolation ward and get this mission over with. He just hoped he hadn’t waited too long. If that shifter in there had died because he’d been too cautious, he’d never forgive himself.
He and Brooklyn headed down the same hallway they’d used a few nights ago when they’d first tried to sneak into the isolation ward. Even though it was late afternoon now, it was quiet. Since Ian had escaped, most of the patients had taken to staying in their rooms. It was like they could feel something bad coming and didn’t want to have anything to do with it.
Man, he hoped they were wrong about that bad feeling.
He and Brooklyn made it to the door of the janitor’s closet easily, and Trevor was relieved to see that no one had gotten around to putting a better lock on it. While it was a new one, it was as cheap as it had been before. His nose and ears told him there were four orderlies manning the recently repaired doors to the isolation ward, but they were around the corner and down the hallway from where they were, so he wasn’t too worried about them. As long as he didn’t make a lot of noise popping the lock, it’d be fine.
Brooklyn slipped to the corner to keep an eye on the orderlies while he went to work on the door. The lock snapped so soundlessly that Trevor couldn’t help thinking this might actually work out even better than he’d hoped.
Then he picked up the scent of a man coming down the hallway behind him.
Shit.
He’d been so focused on the four orderlies by the isolation ward that he hadn’t even thought about anyone sneaking up on them from behind. But the guy was already close and coming fast.
Trevor shoved the door to the janitor’s closet open and turned to yank Brooklyn in with him, only to realize she was still at the far end of the hall, keeping an eye on the orderlies near the isolation ward. She had her back to him and didn’t have a clue what was coming, and it wasn’t like he could shout to get her attention.
Cursing silently, Trevor closed the door of the janitor’s closet just as the man rounded the corner and saw them. Trevor prayed the man wouldn’t notice the broken door. Maybe then, he and Brooklyn could talk themselves out of this situation.
“Hey! What are you two doing here?” the blond man demanded.
At the end of the hallway, Brooklyn spun around, her eyes wide.
Trevor cringed. No chance that the other orderlies hadn’t heard that. This was getting messier by the second.
“We were just taking a walk.” Trevor glanced at Brooklyn to see her hurrying down the hallway toward him. He grinned at the blond orderly. “Getting some air, you know?”
The guy frowned, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Uh-huh. Step over to that wall there, and stay where I can see you.”
Trevor had the urge to point out that they were standing in a wide open hallway and that there wasn’t anywhere he or Brooklyn could go that the man wouldn’t be able to see them. But he refrained. Pissing off the orderly any more than he had wouldn’t be a good idea.
It turned out that it didn’t matter.
The man walked straight over to the door on the janitor’s closet and twisted the knob. Not only did the door open up easily, but the knob spun in his hand, some piece of the lock mechanism falling off and bouncing loudly across the hard floor.
The orderly immediately spun and advanced on them, his face angry. “Turn around and face the wall!” he shouted, pointing as if Trevor and Brooklyn were too mental to understand the simple instructions.
Trevor nodded at Brooklyn, then turned and faced the wall, only to have the man shove him against it. The orderly grabbed his arms, twisting them around behind his back. It grated on Trevor to let a guy four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter manhandle him like this, but he knew he had to put up with it. Hopefully, the orderly would simply take them to their rooms, and this would be a temporary speed bump to their plans.
But then the asshole reached into the pouch at his hip and came out with a set of thick, plastic police zip ties, putting them on Trevor and cinching them tight. Then he moved over to Brooklyn and did the same. The guy seemed to get his jollies restraining the teenager, yanking the ties so tight, he practically lifted her right off the floor.
“Ow! That hurts,” Brooklyn protested.
“Come on, man. Back off,” Trevor growled. “She’s just a kid.”
The orderly gave him a smirk as he jerked the plastic restraints even tighter, cutting them into Brooklyn’s wrists. “Right, she’s just a kid. Is that why the two of you were sneaking into the janitor’s closet?”
Brooklyn let out another cry of pain, and Trevor decided he’d had enough. Screw this perverted a-hole.
