Broken

Chapter 4

Sam stood in the parking lot of the doctor's office, the gun hidden in his coat pocket. It was a heavy coat for autumn, but it could be passed off as normal. God, was it autumn already? He hadn't noticed the changing seasons, it felt like it had been spring just a few days ago...dead leaves rustled as they dragged along the dark asphalt of the parking lot, being pushed by a soft wind that carried the scent of fall, a scent that filled one's lungs with the earthy scent of wet, decaying leaves, with soft notes of cinnamon and nutmeg. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself, as his heart was pounding with anticipation. The gun felt heavy in his coat pocket.

The parking lot was mostly empty, which was good. Though the doctor's office was open 24 hours a day, he knew that it wouldn't be too busy late at night--that was what emergency rooms and bigger hospitals were for. Plus, he was pretty sure that there would be less people working this late at night, and that was good too--the less people, the better.

He left the side of his car and started towards the building, his hands in his coat pockets, feeling the gun there, making sure that it hadn't somehow vanished. He felt shaky and nervous, but that was fine, he just had to get inside and do what he had to do.

The automatic doors swished open and let out a breath of cold air. He walked into the waiting room and looked around.

As he had thought, it was mostly empty. A few people sat in the plastic chairs that lined the walls of the room, looking tired and sick, and a single guard sat in the corner, dozing quietly, his head resting on his shoulder, his hands folded over his abdomen. A nurse watched him from behind the reception counter, thick glasses magnifying her bagged eyes.

He walked up to her, trying to look casual and calm. "Hi, I'm just doing a walk in." He said as he stopped in front of the counter. The nurse stared up at him for a moment, then looked down at her computer, the keyboard clacking as she typed something.

"It'll be a moment. Fill out this paperwork while you wait." She said in a flat, tired voice, not looking up as her hand moved under the counter and returned with a clipboard and a pen. Sam took the clipboard and thanked her quietly, walking away briskly and sitting down in the chair nearest to the pharmacy doors.

The pharmacy, he knew, closed at ten. It was twelve now, and the windows in the pharmacy doors showed nothing but darkness. He knew the doors would be locked, but quietly  tried them anyways as he sat there. The doorknobs did not turn.

He wrote a random name on the clipboard and filled out a few arbitrary  symptoms. He wasn't very focused on the paper, he was trying to review his plan, which was slow going with his muddled brain. First, he would go quietly into the doctor's office. He would then knock out the doctor and...yes, yeah, he would then leave the room and find the backdoor to the pharmacy. If it were unlocked, he'd thank his luck, but if it weren't, he'd just have to break in. Then he'd grab his pills and run for it. The gun was just for show really, he didn't want to have to shoot anyone, he was hoping just the sight of the gun would be deterrent enough if anyone tried to stop him.

Finished with the paperwork, he walked back to the reception counter and deposited the clipboard there. He walked back to his chair and sat, waiting. He kept going over the plan as he waited. People's names were called and they slowly stood up before walking into the hallways beyond the waiting rooms, being led by doctors to go be examined. Now they were calling someone's name and they weren't responding. Idiot. What name had he put down anyways? He tried to remember, straining his useless brain as the doctor, growing frustrated, kept calling the name. Shit, he couldn't recall what the name was! But no one was going, surely it must be him? He jumped up from the chair and quickly walked over to the doctor, blurting out apologies.