Free Dead Reckoning by Ronie Kendig Page A

Khalid.
    Shrugging into her black T-shirt, she rehearsed what she remembered of the hospital. Double front doors with Noor labels. Yellow-hued vinyl, highly polished. Slick. Forty feet to the information desk. Surgery to the right. Waiting area immediately to the left of the entrance. Side exit. She’d have to use that. No doubt Kodiyeri would be watching for her. Was there a back entrance? She had to find a way in that wouldn’t arouse attention or suspicion.
    Shirt tucked into her jeans, she bent to retrieve her boots. Silently, she thanked Brutus—she couldn’t live without her Columbias. They supported her ankles, which were throbbing from all the trotting around town avoiding terrorists. The word still sat bitter on her tongue. Brutus had to be wrong. He wanted to frighten her, knock her off balance. She gritted her teeth as she secured her hair in a French twist.
    Well, she had a lakh of rupees. In the morning, when life in the city rose to a boisterous level, she’d venture to Market Lane, buy back her bracelet, then head to Crawford Market and stock up.
    Keeping to the shadows and with her pack slung over her shoulder, Shiloh wound her way through town to thehospital. Alert for her pursuers, she pulled into hiding places when cars whizzed by and tucked her chin when strangers appeared on the sidewalks. Scattered and lonely cars sat in the parking lot as she cased the medical facility. Bright lights illuminated the emergency and front entrances. Her hand trailed over the wall as she crouched along the perimeter of the building. Finally, she spied a steel door at the back and watched for a few moments. No foot traffic. Confident the coast was clear, she hustled to the entrance.
    Suddenly, the door swung out and hit the wall with a bang. Shiloh pressed herself against the cement siding. Adrenaline exploded through every vein.
    “ Apna khayal rakhna ,” a voice inside shouted, apparently from across a large distance, for someone to “take care.” A man stepped into the night, waved, and carelessly slammed the door behind him. He never looked back.
    Shiloh lunged and caught the handle. Inside, she huddled next to a thrumming refrigerator as she eased the door shut, assessing her situation. To the right, movement. She peeked over the sheen of a steel table. One … no, two men working a machine of some sort. Silence filled the left side of the room. Light from a doorway spilled across the waxed-to-a-slick-shine floors.
    Lowering herself to peer under the steel center island, she spied her escape route—a semi-darkened hall. She kept her eyes on the men as she inched around the island. A cart shielded her from the workers as she calculated the speed and maneuverability she would need to make the hallway without being seen. With a deep breath, she burst across the open area, bringing herself to her full height just as her foot touched light.
    “Oh!” A woman in scrubs gasped when Shiloh surprised her.
    “ Mujhey bhookh lagi hai .” Shiloh pressed her hand to her stomach, forcing a hungry look into her face. Would they believe she was visiting someone and looking for a cafeteria?
    The woman considered her for a moment.
    She still hadn’t eaten, so the confirmation of a growling stomach didn’t surprise her.
    The woman's knotted brows eased. “I will show you.” The nurse motioned for her to follow as she pivoted and headed in the opposite direction toward the cafeteria. “Down the hall, then right.”
    “Dhanyavaad.” With a nod and thanks, Shiloh breathed easier with each step that took her away from the woman.
    At the end of the hall she spotted a directory hanging on the wall. According to the map, two flights up there was a station directly above her. She pushed through the door and took the stairs two at a time, reaching the third floor in less than thirty seconds.
    Slowing her breathing, she stepped into the hall and paused to let her eyes adjust. Squeaky shoes approached from the left.
    “ Kya mein