A FRACTURE IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS ✓

TYLER

It was dark outside when he woke up. Spencer still hadn't arrived. Tyler half-consciously grabbed for the phone, slotting in the batteries in the back, and dialed the only number saved.

He didn't get an answer, but a text almost immediately after.

can't talk
in the hospital
your bastard boss shot me

That woke him up the rest of the way. Tyler frowned. He must've been talking about Brad, as he was the only one from their team near the holding cells when he escaped.

So, I assume you won't be joining me.

no shit ive got a bullet in my stomach

There went their entire plan. Spencer couldn't escape with an injury that severe. Tyler groaned and tossed the phone aside.

"Goddamnit," he muttered, running his hand through his hair. He really needed to cut it.

Since there was nothing much to do before morning when he would have a better chance of sneaking into the hospital, Tyler grabbed the hair bleach and scissors, finding a bathroom with enough light coming through the window to see.

He ran his hand through his scraggly beard. They would probably be looking for him with a beard, so he left himself clean shaven, the paling scars clearly visible against his tan skin. Tyler proceeded to massage the bleach into his hair.

By the time he washed it out, his hair was a spiky orange-blonde. Tyler dumped a few bottles worth of water over his head and scrubbed the bleach out of his scalp, feeling relief from the itchy heat.

He was nearly unrecognizable with blonde hair and no beard, except for the scars that could easily identify him in a crowd. If only he'd gotten some concealer or something to cover them up.

"Ow," Tyler hissed, lightly touching the corners of his mouth. He really should've stayed in physical therapy, maybe then the nerve damage wouldn't be as bad as it was now.

The phone buzzed insistently, and Tyler picked it up, still staring at his reflection.

"Plan C?" He asked.

"No," Spencer grunted in the phone. "It won't work. I'm not going to jail. You need to kill those fuckers you call a team before they get enough proof. Eventually they'll figure out the gun I turned in as proof isn't the gun you used to shoot Weekes."

Tyler tilted his head back, his fingers twitching around the phone. "You know that's not happening. They're my family."

"That's hilarious. Last I checked, the reason we're in this mess is because you killed one member of your so-called family."

A wave of icy hot emotion washed over him, a mixture of shock and rage. "You gave me no choice."

"But you enjoyed it, didn't you?"

Tyler had to grit his teeth from not saying anything he would regret.

"Look, Joseph, I'll give you the same ultimatum as before." Spencer sounded so cocky. If Tyler was there, he'd punch his teeth in. "Either you kill them, or I will. I trust you'll make the same decision you did before. You're too weak to say no."

Tyler's eyes adjusted to the darkness and he watched as his reflection scowled, his eyes darkening to a menacing glare. Damn, he was terrifying.

"Take that back, and I'll think about not ripping your spleen out through your ass the next time I see you," he said coldly, already planning how to kill Spencer when he tracked him down.

Spencer laughed. "I might be in the hospital, but you know damn well I won't hesitate to pull the trigger. You, on the other hand..."

Before Spencer could finish, Tyler chucked the phone at the nearest wall, hearing it crack and fall to the ground in plastic splinters. He stuffed everything he'd bought into heir respective bags and hid them under a trash can outside of the rundown hotel.

Once he confirmed that there were no police patrolling in his area, Tyler hopped onto the nearest bus to the closest hospital, scissors tucked in he waistband of his jeans.

His mind had gone completely into autopilot, thoughts whizzing around about whether or not he could actually get away with all of this, but none of them ever sticking. All he could think about was, no way in hell I'm going to let this undiagnosed sociopath murder my family. He'll die before I let that happen.

Spencer's room was on the second floor, which meant ninja sneaking into the ICU through stairwells. He stole a lab coat and some nurse's ID from a break room and made his way to the room.

Tyler didn't stop on his anger fueled trip until he saw who was on guard duty.

Josh stood beside the door leading to Spencer's room, his eyes half open and red. A maroon bruise wrapped around his neck, courtesy of Tyler.

He somewhat smiled at his handiwork, proud of the damage he did in such little time, before shaking his head. Tyler scolded himself for feeling glee after he hurt the one person in the world that he never wanted to hurt. Hell, he killed for Josh.

But that wasn't important now. He assumed that they would put another mindless local officer guarding, but they must've known Tyler would be coming for Spencer. They were right.

Josh must've felt him staring because he looked up, and his face went deathly white. He blinked hard, and Tyler took a step back. As luck would have it, a swarm of nurses and doctors came rushing down the hall with a cot in tow.

Tyler stepped back again, effectively disappearing from Josh's view before he could see him again. He blended into the crowd before slipping into a cold room lined wall to wall with medicines.

A new idea formed. He initially thought about just stabbing Spencer with scissors, but it would be near impossible to get into his room with Josh guarding the door. Plus, to Tyler, it was giving him a taste of his own medicine.

The saline bags were labeled with room numbers. Like a kid in a candy store, Tyler prodded through the poison cabinet and stuck as many as he could grab with one hand.

He found the saline bag labeled to Ryan's room and injecting the syringes into the needle slot. Why they still kept an array of toxins in hospitals, he didn't know, but now he was glad.

After finding the antidotes to the poisons he used, Tyler stashed them in the pockets of his stolen scrubs and placed the saline bag back in its place, walking out and loitering in the stairwell just one room down from Spencer's.

He could hear the machine's beeping and the doctor's yelling of him flatlining from the stairs. Tyler grinned to himself and watched through the door's window as they wheeled Spencer into the ICU. Josh followed close behind. 

"Try and hurt him now, you bastard," he muttered, relishing in his success enough to not fully realize that someone was standing behind him.

"G- get on the ground."

Tyler looked over his shoulder. A rookie police officer with trembling hands had his gun pointed at his back, eyes wide and pale face sweaty. He rolled his eyes and slipped his scissors into the sleeve of the scrubs.

"Oh no, you foiled my evil plan," Tyler lamented, turning slowly with his hands up.

The rookie swallowed roughly and tucked his gun back into its holster, shakily pulling out his handcuffs. As soon as he grabbed for his wrist, Tyler shook the scissors into his hand and jammed them deep into the officer's gut, hearing a satisfying grunt and whimper. 

When he dropped onto the stairs, clutching his stomach with one hand, Tyler stepped over him, going down the stairs with a smile on his face. Everything was finally going smoothly. If he could get to the border either by tonight or the next morning, he'd be ahead of the police enough to disappear forever.

And if not, he knew their system, he was smarter than all of them combined. He could outsmart the law for as long as he-

A loud shot pierced his thoughts, just as a bullet pierced his chest.