Sentinel Event

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The orderly behind Aidriel held the handles of the wheelchair in a death grip, his focus completely on the patient as he pushed him toward the ambulance bay doors. Through the glass panels, the two men could see Dr. deTarlo and a nurse motioning with their arms for visitors to stay away from the building. The few people nearby stepped back to watch and wait obediently, while the Passers remained wherever they were standing, their ghostly forms like clumps of fog in the early morning light. They were far enough away that they didn't appear to notice Aidriel, but he could see them. He sat frozen, his eyes unblinking, his attention focused on his senses, waiting for even the slightest sign he was going to be attacked. Besides his heart pounding like a dynamo, he was fine.

Eventually deTarlo was satisfied everything outside was under control. She stepped back through the doors anxiously and motioned for the orderly to bring Aidriel out to a waiting ambulance.

"I'm kind of surprised," the patient commented to the shrink as she fell into step beside him.

"Really, at what?"

"I figured you'd want to walk me straight out into a mob of Passers to see what would happen."

To Aidriel's astonishment, deTarlo nodded in genuine agreement.

"That option crossed my mind," she answered. "But Williams didn't think it was a good idea, what with the way the electromagnetic radiation would affect the ambulance."

She sounded serious; Aidriel was speechless.

Reaching the open back of the van, he got up from the chair and climbed in.

"Lie down," deTarlo ordered, pointing at the cot to one side. The EMTs staffing the vehicle kept their lips sealed and watched Aidriel for a reaction.

"What?" he asked, annoyed. "Why?"

"Do as I say," the shrink answered coolly, taking a seat on the bench.

Aidriel sat down on the stretcher and plopped onto his back. The EMTs strapped him in and hovered nearby attentively, as if expecting him to stop breathing at any moment.

Aidriel's intuitive sense of warning kicked in and pounded. The orderly took his time returning the wheelchair to the building before he hopped into the back of the van, pulling the doors closed. They waited without speaking, listening to the rumbling of the engine, and Aidriel prayed it wouldn't suddenly stall.

Eventually the vehicle began to move, and deTarlo insisted the siren be turned on.

"We're transporting a high-risk patient."

No one noticed the vague, sour smile on Aidriel's face.

"How're you feeling?" deTarlo asked him.

"I'm sure you're more excited than I am."

"You aren't looking forward to the personal attention of Chester Williams and his staff?"

Aidriel didn't reply, but he was thinking that Williams's staff was probably half Passers. They had to be, with the work he did.

The drive went remarkably quickly with the lights and sirens, and soon they found themselves at the airport. Aidriel was itching to get off the cot and was up and moving as soon as the EMTs undid the straps.

"We're at the helipad," deTarlo told him. "This is where the chopper comes to drop off patients to the plane for transport. There aren't many people around. Less Passers."

The orderly opened the back doors and Aidriel peered out into the bright morning sunshine. He could see a private jet parked some ways off on a runway as he and the psychologist climbed out of the ambulance. Printed on the side of the aircraft was American Sentience Movement in bold, scrolly letters.