“He doesn’t feel regret,” Lucy said.
The nurse led them through the automatic doors out into the warm night, the chair’s wheels clicking along the pavement.
In the distance, a gaggle of news vans topped with satellite dishes had taken over the far corner of the general parking lot.
“Which way?” Lucy asked. Her breath was labored. Behind her, Donaldson grunted like a draft horse.
“We’re almost there,” the nurse said.
She guided them toward a satellite lot with numbered parking spaces, semi-illuminated by a handful of street lamps. The nurse stopped abruptly, causing Lucy to bump into her, prompting another howl.
“I’m sorry, I…um, forgot that it isn’t handicapped accessible.”
Lucy and Donaldson peered down the concrete stairs.
Twelve in all.
“Which car is it?” Donaldson asked.
The nurse pointed to the black sedan parked next to a streetlight.
“Thanks, kindly. You can do me one more favor, if you don’t mind.”
The nurse’s face crinkled in fear. “What?”
“You can be our diversion.”
Donaldson raised the gun and shot the nurse in the leg. She collapsed, moaning and clutching the newly-formed hole.
“Let’s bright side this,” Lucy said. “At least you’re already at the hospital.”
Donaldson leaned down and whispered in Lucy’s ear. “You like roller coasters, little girl?”
Lucy set her jaw. “The bigger the better.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Donaldson shoved the wheelchair forward. For a brief moment, the front wheels hung out over empty space, and time seemed to stop. Then gravity took control, and the chair tilted forward.
Donaldson wedged his gun between Lucy’s back and the chair, and held on tight.
The first two steps were accompanied by Lucy’s screams, each one shrill and childlike.
Momentum kicked in, jerking Donaldson forward.
Bump.
Scream.
Bump.
Scream.
Bump. Bump.
Scream. Scream.
By the time they reached the bottom, Lucy’s voice was hoarse.
“It hurts!” she cried.
Sweating, heaving, Donaldson leaned his bulk onto the wheelchair. He bent down, panting hot against Lucy’s cheek.
“You got pain meds on you, bitch?”
“We can talk about it in the car. Let’s move, D! You have any idea how many cops will be swarming this place any minute?”
“The lady doth protest too fucking much. I think you’re faking it. Do you have any idea the fucking agony I’m in, while you’re playing games? My arm is broken in fifteen places. If you want me to drive out of here, I need the pain to stop. Now if you’ve got meds, give them up.”
Lucy batted her eyelashes. “Pain is a beautiful thing, Donaldson. It’s intensity. It makes you feel alive. So SUCK IT UP, YOU FUCKING CRYBABY! I don’t have any meds. I haven’t hit my morphine in seven hours. How do you think I got out of my room? Now wheel me to the fucking car!”
Donaldson jerked his handcuffed wrist back and shoved it between the seat and Lucy’s back. Then he pulled out the gun and took careful aim at her left foot.
“Tell me how beautiful this is, little girl.”
He fired.
Three of her toes disappeared with a BANG! and a small cloud of blood.
“Fuck!!!! Goddamn! You fucking fuck!”
Lucy bellowed at the top of voice, the echo bouncing back off the hospital and rushing out into the forest.
What was left of her foot shook like an aspen leaf.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Lucy took a deep, trembling breath.
“Pain is good,” she said in a steady, level voice. “Pain is good. I still don’t have any meds, D. You want to shoot off my other foot?”
“Had to make sure,” Donaldson said. “No offense.”
He tucked the gun behind the curve of her back and pushed her toward the Honda. “How the hell are we supposed to get inside?” he asked.
“Lift me.”
“Fuck you. Undo the goddamn cuffs.”