The Bride Wore Black Leather

the bastard. “How else do you think I know everything?”
    “I know a lot of people, too,” I said.
    “Ah yes,” said Julien. “But you know people like Dead Boy and Razor Eddie, while I know people who matter.”
    “Shut up and run,” said Benway. “Save your breath and your strength. You’re going to need them.”
    She actually increased her speed, racing along with her arms pumping at her sides, sprinting through the deserted Hospice corridors with a turn of speed that was frankly astonishing in a woman who had to be well into her sixties. She darted in and out of a series of short cuts, ignoring the directions on the walls, and soon I hadn’t a clue where I was. The corridors were starting to remind me uncomfortably of the hedgerow maze. But I knew when we were finally getting close to Ward 12A because I started to hear things. From up ahead of us, to every side, and, even more worryingly, behind us, I heard a series of heavy, slamming sounds.
    “That’s the steel security doors dropping down into place,” said Dr. Benway. “Sealing off the corridors. No-one in, no-one out, until this mess is sorted, and the danger is over. If all the security doors are dropped, that means all the patients who can be moved have been; so we’re pretty much alone in here, with the problem.”
    “What about the patients who couldn’t be moved?” said Julien. Typical of the man, to be concerned with innocents even as he raced into danger.
    “They’ll have to take their chances,” Benway said curtly. “They’re under guard; God bless the Fortress. Concentrate on what’s ahead of us, Julien. If we can’t bring this under control quickly, we could lose the whole Hospice.”
    “What is ahead of us?” I said, not unreasonably, I thought. “What the hell has happened in Ward 12 bloody A?”
    “Something got loose,” said Benway, in a voice like the end of the world.
    •  •  •
    We rounded a final corner, and there at the end of the corridor before us was a heavily reinforced steel door, marked simply: 12A . Two young men in white doctor’s coats were barricading the door with everything they could get their hands on. Furniture, medical trolleys, even a Hot Drinks! Machine that they were man-handling into place. They suddenly realised they weren’t alone. Their heads snapped round, and they both let out girlish shrieks of alarm. They started to run, only to stop immediately as Dr. Benway yelled at them.
    “Dr. Burke! Dr. Rabette! Stand right where you are!”
    And they did. They turned immediately to look at her, ignoring Julien and me, as the three of us finally came to a halt before the door to Ward 12A. I had black spots dancing before my eyes, my ribs ached, and I had to lean against a wall while I concentrated on getting my breath back. Julien breathed deeply a few times, then strolled forward to observe the barricaded door with a keen interest. Dr. Benway put her hands on her hips and rotated her back a few times. I heard bones creak and crack. She glared at the two young doctors standing uneasily before her, then glared at me.
    “These two young fools are supposed to be in charge here. On the grounds that I can’t do everything myself. Talk to me, Burke, Rabette! What’s the situation?”
    The two young doctors looked at each other guiltily. The older of the two was barely into his midtwenties, and they both looked shocked as well as scared as they glanced at the barricaded door. Finally, the older one, Burke, swallowed hard.
    “The door is locked and sealed. It can’t get out. But we can’t go in there! It’s too dangerous! Who are these two?”
    “Julien Advent and John Taylor,” said Benway.
    “I think I felt safer before they got here,” said Rabette in a high, shaky voice. He smiled quickly, to show it was meant to be a joke. “We’ll take all the help we can get, but I don’t know what you can do. I don’t know there’s anything anyone can do. All hell’s breaking loose in there.”
    “We should get the hell out of here!” said Burke, actually wringing his hands together.
    “Shut up, both of you!” snarled Benway. “Call yourselves doctors . . .” She turned her back on them and marched over to stand before the barricaded door. She started to push the drinks machine out of the way, then found she couldn’t. Julien and I had to help her. Burke and Rabette reluctantly shifted everything else they’d piled up against the door, revealing a portholelike window in