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She helps John drag Dr Gordon to the car after they find him passed out in the labyrinth of hallways, having cauterized his stump on a steaming pipe. He’s slumped in the back seat, looking like death. She doesn't think he will make it to the warehouse but John is on the phone to Logan. He will meet them there and she would never think to question John.
***
Logan has finished with Dr Gordon. Dropping his bloodied latex gloves in the trash. He brought blood with him and the other doctor looks less like his heart will stop at any second, colour starting to return to his face.
“When will he wake up?” Is the first thing John asks after Logan tells them Dr Gordon is stable.
“Don't know, could be hours, could be days,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Either way he needs to get to a real hospital there's only so much I can do here,”
John nods. “He stays here until I can talk to him,” There’s no question in it. If it’s what John says then it’s for the best, Logan doesn't press further.
***
Two days, that's how long it takes Dr Gordon to wake up. Amanda is with him and gets John as soon as he starts to stir.
“Stay out of sight for now,” he tells her. “We don't want to overwhelm him,”
She doesn't like the idea of leaving John alone with him but he is restrained and still weak so she does as she's asked. She hides behind the wall separating the two rooms listening in on their conversation just in case John needs her though.
Dr Gordon asks about his family first, still disoriented and unaware of where he is. John comforts him, tells him how they escaped and made it to the police.
“And Adam?” His voice hoarse and barely more than a whisper. “You have to find Adam,”
“Adam died from his wounds while you were unconscious,” the lie surprises her but John always has a plan and she trusts that it must be necessary to get the doctor on board.
She hears Lawrence sob.
She can't help but think about Adam trapped down there in the dark. If he's lucky his wound will get infected and he will be dead in a couple of days. If he isn't it would take weeks to die of starvation. If he’s smart he won’t drink the water from the faucet in the tub, dehydration will kill him quicker but he probably won't be lucid enough to think that far ahead.
She doesn't like thinking about that. What a long torturous death that would be, no way to fight no matter how much you want to live.
She leaves without listening to any more of John's conversation with Dr Gordon.
***
It's not a conscious decision to go there but she was restless and unable to sleep. It's almost 2am when she pulls up outside the abandoned house.
She takes the flashlight from the seat beside her with shaking hands. Afraid of what she will find inside.
She's never killed anyone before, not outside of her game and she didn't know that's what she was doing then.
The door to the bathroom is heavy and creaks loudly as she opens it. She pulls it open still hoping to see Adam's lifeless corpse as she turns the flash light on him.
He is still, unmoving and that hope sparks inside her. She goes to him, crouching beside him.
“Adam, Adam,” he remains unresponsive.
She holds her shaking hand up under his nose. She can almost convince herself that what she feels isn't there until he gasps, coming to the edge of consciousness. Her heart sinks, she takes a breath stealing herself.
“Come here. I can help you.” She says trying to sound comforting, pulling him to her.
“I can help you,” she can barely get the words out this time, tears stinging her eyes.
She's never killed anyone before, not really.
She holds him as a sob escapes her.
“I'm gonna free you,” she whispers, taking the plastic from her back pocket and pulling it over his face.
He struggles more than she thought he would from his previous state and she can't stop the sobbing now. Tears flowing freely as pulls the plastic tighter. Tighter. Tighter.
It's a mercy she tells herself. It could take days or more if she doesn't. It's the humane thing to do.
He tries to get away, grabbing for her hands behind his head. He smashes his face into the toilet during the struggle. She pulls him back to her as blood pools between the plastic and his face. Then he stops.
She gently guides him to the ground. Her tears fall on his face as she removes the plastic, her breath hitching with each sob.
She's never killed anyone before, not like that.
She brushes his hair from his face as she tries to push the feelings that threaten to consume her away.
She strokes her hand down the side of his face and brushes it over his skin trying to remove as much of the blood as she can.
“I'm sorry Adam, I'm sorry,” she whispers. Remembering the man in the hallway who just wanted to make her smile, it was barely two weeks ago.
Then she feels it, the slight puff of air from his nostrils, it comes again a second later and she can't deny it's there.
“FUCK!” she screams and finds she has no more tears to shed. Fuck.
She looks at Adam, remarkably alive. She looks at the blood covered sheet of plastic beside her. She can't do it again.
And it wouldn't be fair. It was Lawrence's game not Adam's, not really. Adam's key got pulled down the drain before he even woke up. He never had a chance to prove himself but here he was fighting and alive and wanting to live.
The realisation has her feeling strangely calm but a kind of calm that's more numb than anything else. She isn't thinking of the future or tomorrow. How she will look John in the eye again. She just acts.
She takes the key from her pocket and unlocks his chain. Hooking her arms under his she drags him to the hallway. The wheeled board she had brought him in on, all those days ago, is still out in the hall. Leaning against the wall where she left it.
There's a fire station with an ambulance bay twelve minutes from the house. Part of her job with scoping the place out had been finding out first response times. She takes him there. Leaving him where he will be found while no one is looking.
***
She follows them to the hospital keeping her distance so they won't notice her.
At the hospital she waits, head down and avoids security cameras as best she can.
She buys a small bouquet of wilted flowers and a get well card from the gift shop, borrowing a pen from the cashier so she can write it.
She slips inside a staff room and changes into a pair of orderly scrubs, no one will pay attention to her in them.
After three hours they take Adam from triage to surgery to the ICU.
There's a pretty looking nurse leaving his bedside when she gets there.
“Who's that?” Amanda asks her. Hiding the flowers behind her back and hoping she looks and sounds casual.
“John Doe,” the nurse sounds sad, overflowing with empathy for this man whose name she doesn't even know. “Brought him a couple hours ago,”
“Will he be okay?”
“He was in a rough way but he should be,” she smiles.
Amanda nods and the nurse seems to take that as her cue to leave and goes back to her busy schedule.
Amanda leaves the flowers and card on the night stand beside his bed.
Opening it up and retrieving his personal effects, the clothes he was wearing, from inside. The t-shirt had been cut open but it was just a plain white tee. She can get another one from somewhere around here. She leaves it behind.
She takes a final moment to look at him. He looks almost peaceful like this, like he could be sleeping, he will wake up tomorrow and all of this will be a bad dream.
She finds a match for Adam’s t-shirt three beds down and takes it.
She slips past a doctor on her way out of the ICU lifting her ID as she does and heads to the elevator.
She presses the button to the basement scanning her newly acquired ID tag to grant her access.
***
There are six bodies in the morgue. Two are women. Two are black. One is a heavy set man in his sixties. The last one must be about forty and doesn't look much like Adam at all, but he's a similar build with darkish hair. He will have to do.
She looks at his toe tag, Miles Carter, 43, drug overdose.
“Looks like you’re coming with me Miles,”
She transfers Miles’ body to a gurney along with Adams' clothes, covering him with a sheet and heading back to the elevator.
No one questions what she's doing or where she's going, it seems to be a busy night. People rushing to and fro. Too busy with living patients to wonder what's happening to the deceased ones.
She wheels Miles’ body out the ambulance bay and hauls him into the trunk of her car.
***
Back in the basement she dresses Miles in Adams’ clothes, chains him to the pipe, shoots him in the shoulder and dowses him in some pig's blood. She hopes that no one will look too closely.
It's almost 8am. John will start to wonder where she is soon.
He doesn't look like Adam even now but in a month when decay has set in. No one will be able to tell. And it will be at least that long if not longer before anyone comes down here.
***
She goes back to the warehouse stopping to buy breakfast on the way.
“Where were you?” John asks when he sees her.
“Went for a walk,” the lie burns in her throat.
She's never lied to him before.
“Got breakfast while I was out,” at least that was true.
She hands him a bag with a breakfast sandwich and a Styrofoam cup with green tea. He would prefer coffee but the tea is better for him.
"How's Dr Gordon?” She asks, wanting to change the subject.
“He will be a powerful ally one day and I think we can get him to see our side of things,” he takes a sip of his tea wincing when he realises it's not coffee but not voicing his displeasure, it's an argument they've had before. “Especially after what he did to Adam,”
Amanda nods, swallowing the bile in her throat.
Dr Gordon will help them, he will see that they are helping people and that those that don't survive weren't strong enough. Besides he already thinks he killed Adam, what's a few more?
She eats her breakfast with John. They talk about traps, ones that exist and ones that don't yet. She silently hopes that the rushed message she left in the card is enough to keep Adam dead and gone for good.
Adam Faulkner-Stanheight is dead.
If he isn't you will be.