Out of the Black - Lee Doty [55]
This was not normal Harm behavior! They were violent, they were psychotic, but they did not work together, they did not have a plan or a purpose. Sure, Harms seemed evil, but these guys looked like the devil's butler on payday.
Like a preoccupied moviegoer might take a bite of popcorn, the Harm bent down and bit a chunk out of Wyler's ear without breaking his stare at Anne. Screams were everywhere. The ambulatory and uncowed were scrambling for the exits. Two beds away from the melee, a mother tried to cover her unconscious and bandaged daughter with her body. This was a bad night to visit your local ER.
Wyler's eyes were straining at their sockets, casting about wildly for help, solace- anything. His hands were clawing ineffectively at the arm around his neck. She could clearly distinguish his scream from the rest of the cacophony.
The ruse worked. Both orderlies fired, one hit the doctor in the side, knocking him thankfully insensate. The other shot hit the Harm full in the face. He staggered back. Wyler began to slip out of his loosening grip. Both orderlies rushed forward, one fired again, but the shot went wide.
Anne noticed three things essentially at once:
First: Things were moving in that surreal dream-state slow motion that trauma survivors often describe.
Second: The Harm wasn't as stunned as he appeared- she could tell from the horrible grin that a direct hit from a stunner should have made impossible. She could actually see his eyes darting between the approaching orderlies, little evil wheels turning in his head. Things were about to get much, much worse. Blood ran down Wyler's slack face, staining his shirt, the Harm's grip was tightening again around his neck. Anne knew Wyler's wife, had played with his new baby in the break room just last week. The Harm wasn't done with him.
And third: (and most disturbing of all) Anne noticed that she was now lumbering toward the Harm, feeling like a slightly heavier version of an enraged rhino. A new feeling coursed through her, warm and smooth. She was going to help.
Well, she was going to die trying to help anyway- 'A' for effort.
She charged toward inevitable death feeling free.
***
"Less subtle?" Rae said, astounded. "How could they possibly be less subtle?"
"They've probably got uniforms they're going to go put on." Ping said.
"Maybe that was a signal to start a musical number?" Alex said, struggling to keep his voice quiet.
Outside, Good Cop lifted a hand and shouted, "Game's over! Scanners!"
Rae spoke first. "Ok. That is slightly less subtle."
Ping didn't yet see a way out. He pulled out his tablet and switched it out of private mode. He left the recorder running. Nobody was going to believe this.
"What'cha doin?" Rae asked.
"Calling for help."
"Yeah. Good luck." Alex said without enthusiasm.
Ping opened a connection through the emergency ports at dispatch, or tried to. The tablet was out of private mode, but it had not yet connected to the Library's network.
"No luck eh?" Alex was shaking his head. "The first thing they did was yank down the net here. I checked when I first realized we were trapped."
"How're you maintaining connectivity with the camera out there?" Rae asked.
"I love it when you talk technical." Alex smiled, "Old school direct connection. Guy at the spy store told me it was better not to connect to some appliances through the net... guess he was right. I'm direct wired to the archive's bookshelf controls through the box there, too." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the junction box on the wall.
"I'm really trying to resist saying, 'we need to get out of here', guys." Rae said.
Alex was flipping his stylus again. "I've got the beginnings of a plan. You shoot as well as you draw Detective?"
***
Terror, sympathy, fury; the emotions chased each other through Anne's mind. Black, white,