Take the Key and Lock Her Up

The man behind Viktor is massive. He wears dingy gray scrubs, and when he pushes past Viktor, toward me, it’s almost like a tornado bearing down. But he never reaches me. Alexei blasts across the room, leaping and catching the massive orderly in midair, the two of them crashing to the floor in what feels like a blur of hits and kicks.

The man is strong. He’s huge. But Alexei has something to fight for. And I realize with a start that the something is me.

I watch him twist, launching himself over the bigger man, and in a flash Alexei has his arms around his neck and he’s squeezing.

“Alexei!”

Just a few weeks ago, most of the world thought Alexei was a killer. I never thought it possible—never thought him capable—until now. Jamie told me once that Alexei’s father was some kind of Russian special forces—that Alexei was the only kid who could ever keep up with the son of an Army Ranger. Only now do I see what he meant. He’s not the perfect boy next door anymore. He’s the guy my grandfather warned me about as he staggers upright, the orderly’s head and neck gripped too tightly in his grasp.

“Alexei, no!” I snap. Alexei sees me, and a new terror fills his eyes as his gaze shifts.

“Gracie!” he shouts, and I turn to see Viktor behind me. There’s a syringe in his hand, and a new terror fills me.

I don’t know what drug it is, but my body can feel it long before the syringe touches my skin. I know the foggy haze that it will bring, the sense of floating, distant and free. And I know that it’s not right—not real. I know that whatever peace that syringe might bring me would be a lie—would be worse. I know that I don’t belong in a place like this. Not anymore. I may be crazy, but I’m not insane, so I lash out, kicking and clawing like a fiend.

Like a madwoman.

The orderly slumps as Alexei cuts off his air, but I can’t stop to think about that. Viktor swings his arm down, wielding the syringe like an ax. I throw my hands up, catching his wrist with both hands, pressing up as he presses down.

Viktor mutters something under his breath. I don’t speak the language, but I know what he’s saying. That I’m reckless. That I’m dangerous. That I should just shut up and be the meek little girl that would make the world so much more comfortable for the likes of him.

But I’m not that girl. And I never, ever will be.

I’m the lost freaking princess of Adria, and I’m not going to take it anymore.

The orderly’s on the ground, and Alexei’s jumping the man’s body, coming in my direction, but I don’t wait. Viktor lunges toward me, one last-ditch feat of strength, and I use his force and his weight against him, spinning like my father taught me long ago, twisting Viktor’s arm back until the syringe lands in his own leg. I hear his cry. I see the pain in his eyes. But I just reach for the plunger and push until that pain is erased by a mindless, empty bliss.

Slowly, he slumps, falling to the floor.

I look down but don’t have time to think about what’s just happened. Alexei grabs me, makes me look into his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks. I could ask him the same thing. There’s a scratch on his face, a growing bruise. But we’re both still here and we’re still breathing.

Then I remember the bad part: We’re still here.

“I told you they were storming the gates,” a voice says from the window, and I look at Karina.

Alexei moves to the window and lets out a Russian curse when he see what’s going on outside.

I already know even before I look out and see it for myself. Dust clouds fill the road, kicked up by a convoy of SUVs.

“Well, I guess now we know why they changed their minds and let us in,” I say.

“Yes. And why they insisted that we wait so long,” Alexei says, but he’s not waiting anymore.

He grabs my hand, tugging me toward the door. “We must leave. Now!”

“But, Alexei—” I turn back to his mother, who is running her hand along the cinder-block wall.

“‘Hush, little princess …’”

“We must leave her,” he says.

“But …”

I don’t get to argue. There’s no time to fight. Because just as I open my mouth to speak, a blast shakes the room, throwing me off of my feet and into Alexei, who grabs me and then presses me to the floor, shielding me with his body as dust and debris cloud the air. I’m choking, gagging, as I hear a familiar voice say, “I told you there were explosives.”

Rosie looks larger than usual as she stands silhouetted against the gray sky, surrounded by a cloud of dust. She’s a conquering hero. And she’s not taking any prisoners.

“What are you two waiting for? We’ve got to go. Now!”

The caravan of SUVs is at the gates, but the guards are nowhere to be seen. The gates are wide-open and they’re coming in fast.

“Now!” Rosie shouts again, and then jumps. I run to the hole in the wall only to notice for the first time that there’s a roof not far below. There must be a single-story section of the hospital because Rosie is running across the roof, then climbing down a ladder that leads to the back of the facility.

“Go, Gracie. Now.” Alexei is trying to push me outside, but I look back at the woman who is still behind us, singing and swaying in the dust.

There’s no time to argue. Alexei just spins and walks toward his mother, sweeps her up into his arms, and runs in my direction, climbing through the hole in the wall that Rosie left in her wake.