TEARS OF RAGE

Chapter 27

Captured amidst a whirlwind of tormented emotions, it's hard to regard a hospital as anything other than a place for the sick and injured.

The shuffle of activity within its walls is based upon doctors, nurses, and physicians scrambling to save lives and prevent critical patients from going into a state of remiss.

The antiseptic smell of industrial cleaners, fear, and the pungent odor of the sick, bombarded the senses of anyone who came to visit.

When Swaylo entered the emergency room and strode along the fluorescent-lit hallway, it was like moving in a submerged maze.

Lost in the grasp of grief and anguish, the past was like a wave washing over him.

A myriad of memories about his dad began to surface within his mind, leaving him lost and in a daze.

Guilt clung to his conscience as a caterpillar clings to its cocoon. A man never understands the impact of his actions until he gets confronted with tragedy and doom.

When Swaylo walked up to the nurses' station fear had his heart pounding.

His face was a mask of anxiety, covered with a sheen of perspiration.

He had the worried expression of a man, moving in the realm of oblivion.

"Excuse me, ma'am... I'm trying to check on the status of my grandmother. She was brought into the emergency room, after being shot in Eastlake Meadows."

The nurse gave a sympathetic nod and pulled up something on her computer.

"What's her name?"

"Ananda Mitchell."

As she types the information into the computer, Swaylo tried to hold back the cascade of tears that were brimming in his eyes.

It took a few minutes to confirm the admission, and find the details documented on her computer.

"Okay. Here we are," she stated, perusing over the information recorded on the screen before her.

Before she could divulge any information, the slide of the emergency room doors sounded.

Preoccupied with his thoughts of guilt and grief, Swaylo did not pay attention to his surroundings.

A collection of voices could be heard resonating around him, like butterflies fluttering in the wind.

But, only one voice registered in his consciousness, when the electronic doors slid open...

"Hey, Kenny... I haven't seen you in a minute. Is everything alright with you and Shonda?" Charmaine's voice was distinguishable from any other woman. It registered with clarity and set his threat meter pinging towards danger.

Within that moment, it was as though time had frozen.

Swaylo glanced over his shoulder and saw Kirkwood Kenny step through the emergency room entrance, brandishing an assault weapon, tucked along the side of his right leg.

When it became clear that his ambush had been exposed, Kenny rose his weapon and began to charge his target.

Trapped within the corridor of the emergency room, with nowhere to run, Swaylo knew that his time had come...

As the elevator made its descent to the lobby floor, special agents Anthony Price and Carl Wainwright could not disguise their feelings of disappointment.

When they arrived at the hospital and found Bald Bull and C-murder, they were expecting to find some clues and information involving the bandits that had robbed the Kennesaw Bank.

That was not what happened...

Both teens had claimed not to know anything about a crime, although instinct told them that they were lying.

The two teenagers that they had encountered, had driven the victim to the hospital.

They had claimed to not know anything, aside from the fact that the woman that had been shot, had needed a ride to the hospital...

And they had only been good Samaritans.

With the information that they had gathered, there did not seem to be any sort of connection between the shooting of a fifty-eight-year-old woman, and the bank robbery.

In the microcosm of time in which the elevator doors came open, and they were about to step out, the drumroll of gunfire thundered through the hallway.

Both agents exchanged a glance and ran toward the action.

When the first volley of gunfire erupted, Karen Carmichael wanted to abandon Kenny and the rental.

She had not signed up for that sort of action...

Her eyes scan the lot, searching for somewhere to run. She did not want to be involved in a potential murder.

On a whim, she decided to take a peek inside of the duffel bags.

If the saying about how curiosity killed the cat were true, satisfaction had to be the secret to bringing it back, because Karen felt overwhelmed with elation.

When she saw the bundles of cash, her hands began shaking.

Searching for a quick place to escape, she felt like a cat in a canary's cage...

She knew that once she made her move, Kenny would be hunting her like prey.

And, she knew that murder was the type of game that Kenny played when seeking vengeance.

The biggest risk was remaining in the city, and waiting for a consequence to come calling.

But for the moment, that day was far enough away not to matter right then, so she grabbed a duffle bag and ran.

As chaos erupted from inside of the emergency room, Karen Carmichael was making a mad dash across the darkened parking lot.

The bark of gunfire could be heard resonating in her wake.

Like a flutter of wind that blows across the skin, Karen vanished in the darkness...

Carrying a duffel bag of cash across her shoulders, like Santa Claus running over a rooftop.