Free Identity (Eyes Wide Open) by Ted Dekker Page B

tracks.”
    “But which way is out?”
    “How did you get in here?”
    “I walked down the hall.”
    “Your door wasn’t locked?”
    “No.”
    “Were there guards in the hall?”
    “Not that I could see.”
    “Are you sure?”
    She nodded. “I’m sure.”
    “They must have some other security measures in place. Video cameras probably, which means we have to move fast.”
    “Don’t they lock these sorts of places down? It’s not like we can just walk out of here.”
    “We have to try. There’s got to be an exit somewhere.”
    “What if they see us?”
    “We’ve got nothing to lose. Fisher probably thinks I’m still sleeping off the sedative.” He grabbed Christy’s hand and led her toward the door. “What did you see in the hallway?”
    She glanced through the door’s narrow window. “There’s an administration office to the left. It dead-ends there.”
    “To the right?”
    “Just more hallway.”
    “Where does it go?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “That’s fine. It’ll lead somewhere. We’ll follow it until we find a door. We’ll find a way out.” He squeezed her hand. “You ready?”
    She nodded.
    “We run and we don’t look back, understand?”
    “Okay.”
    “No matter what you hear behind us, keep running forward. Stay close.”
    Austin pulled the door open gently. Peered out. Except for an old woman with a walker, the hallway was empty.
    “Okay, let’s go.”
    They turned down the hall and started to run. Doorways lined the hallway on either side every ten feet or so. Patient rooms.
    They skirted past the old woman, who shuffled slowly in the middle of the hallway.
    She smiled a crooked smile and waved. “Don’t touch the whiskey, you hear? Stuff’ll rot you dead.”
    They both ignored her.
    “Hey, kids,” she said, “got any whiskey on you?”
    A plastic sign hung next to a fire extinguisher. A fire evacuation chart.
    “Over here,” Austin said. They pulled to a stop in front of it. A rough schematic of the facility was etched into it. The psych ward was U-shaped. They stood where the left side of the U met the bottom.
    He glanced down the hall. “Down that way and to the left. Main exit. Hurry.
    They followed the hallway until it jogged left again. Took the turn at a run.
    Deserted except for two patients: One, a bald Asian man who stood in a doorway doing nothing. Just beyond him, a teenage boy sitting in a wheelchair backed against the wall. He watched them without expression. Just another day for a patient without much of a mind.
    Austin veered to the left side of the hall to keep distance between them. “Keep going, don’t stop,” he whispered.
    The Asian patient lifted his arm and pointed at them as they passed but addressed the boy in the wheelchair. “Jacob. Look, Jacob. Two birds running. I hear the wolf snap-snap-snapping at their heels. I hear him. Do you hear him, Jacob?”
    The man’s laugher filled the hallway.
    “Snap-snap-snapping. Gonna chew ’em up.”
    Double doors, straight ahead. Austin quickened his pace to a sprint, and Christy matched his stride. As they moved his eyes scanned for video cameras, but he hadn’t seen any.
    They were going to make it.
    His hand slammed down on the lever and they pushed through.
    The stark clinical lights of the psych ward faded as the doors closed behind them. They pulled up in a warmly lit room. A reception area of some sort. To the far right, an unmarked metal door. Ahead, another door with the word EXIT glowing in green letters above it. To the immediate right, a small receiving area enclosed in Plexiglas. It reminded Austin of the reception area at a family physician’s office. To the right of it, another door no doubt opened to the office area behind the glass.
    “There’s no one in there,” Christy said. “Let’s go.”
    She rushed forward and pushed the release lever on the EXIT door, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried again. Locked.
    Austin walked to the receptionist’s window. Empty. Lunch time?