Chapter 17 - THE NURSE WITH COLD EYES
The world flipped upside down in a violent kaleidoscope of shattering glass, spinning headlights, and the deafening shriek of torn steel. The Suburban crashed through the wooden guardrail, spun 360 degrees on the slick bridge deck, and slammed backward into the concrete pylon, lodging wedged into the barrier just inches above the roaring black abyss of the gorge below.
Silence fell, broken only by the hiss of steam escaping the crushed radiator and the steady drip of gasoline onto the asphalt.
Inside, Nora opened her eyes. The passenger side airbag had deployed, filling the cabin with white chemical powder. Her forehead throbbed with a deep, blinding ache where it had struck the window pillar, but her arms were locked tight over Iris’s safety seat.
"Ethan?" she coughed, her vision swimming with dark spots. "Ethan!"
Ethan was slumped over the steering wheel, blood streaming down the side of his temple from a jagged cut across his hairline. He grooned softly, his hand weakly twitching toward the gearshift. "Nora... Iris..."
Across the bridge, the Mercedes had spun out into the opposing ditch, its front axle snapped. But the passenger door was already being kicked open.
Nora didn't wait for Ethan to regain full consciousness. She unbuckled Iris, pulled the baby against her chest beneath her torn coat, kicked open the jammed passenger door with both boots, and stumbled out into the freezing rain.
The headlights of an approaching emergency vehicle sliced through the darkness from the north—red and blue flashing strobes reflecting off the wet pavement. An ambulance, followed by a state trooper cruiser.
"Over here!" Nora screamed, waving her bloodied hand in the air. "Help! We’re here!"
The ambulance screeched to a halt twenty yards from the wrecked Suburban. Two paramedics jumped out, followed by a tall, slender woman dressed in clinical navy scrubs beneath a heavy winter parka.
"Ma'am! Don't move!" the female paramedic called out, rushing forward with a medical kit. "Keep the baby still! We have to secure the cervical spine!"
"My husband is trapped inside!" Nora sobbed, collapsing onto her knees on the asphalt as her strength finally deserted her. "He's bleeding from the head! Please, help him!"
The woman knelt down beside Nora. Her hands were remarkably steady, wearing thin surgical gloves that felt like ice against Nora’s feverish skin. "We’ll get him, sweetheart. Let me take the baby. Let me get her into the heated unit."
Nora’s maternal instinct hesitated. She pulled back slightly, looking up through the rain at the woman’s face.
The paramedic had sharp, porcelain features, cold gray eyes that showed no panic, and a perfectly manicured thumb resting against the infant’s blanket. And on that thumb, partially concealed beneath the cuff of her latex glove, was a heavy gold signet ring: *The Vance coiled viper.*
A jolt of pure adrenaline bypassed Nora’s exhaustion.
"You're not a paramedic," Nora whispered, her voice dropping into horrified recognition.
The woman’s lips parted into a razor-thin smile. Her grip on Iris’s blanket didn't loosen; it tightened with the strength of a vice.
"Julian sends his regards, little sister," the woman whispered into Nora’s ear. "Mother always said you were tougher than you looked. But a dead mother can't claim guardianship of a trust fund."
From inside the paramedic’s parka, the woman’s other hand slid out, holding a pre-loaded glass syringe filled with a clear, lethal dose of potassium chloride.
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"Give me the child, Nora," she purred, leveling the needle straight at Nora’s exposed neck. "Or I administer this right into your carotid artery, and you can join your father before the sun comes up."
***
