Chapter Fourteen Noah

He woke the next morning in a cold sweat. After the encounter with Sil the previous night, he had not slept well. Had she been lying to him? He didn't think so. But if Jacob wasn't responsible for the bombing, who was? He'd found it impossible to stop his mind from racing through the possibilities. A rebel group from outside the city? Madeleine, without the rest of the Resistance's knowledge? Danforth herself, even?

When he'd finally drifted off to sleep, it had already been getting light outside.

His head was pounding when he woke, and he had a horrible sense that something was wrong. After a quick shower and hurried breakfast, he entered the hospital half an hour early for his shift. Despite throwing himself into the work, taking as many of the physically demanding tasks as he could, he still couldn't shake the unsettled feeling.

It was eleven a.m. before there was a task on the board which took him to Helen's ward. Cutting in front of another drudge to snag the job, he gave the man an apologetic look and hurried away. A patient needed transporting to the scanning department. He found himself hoping it might be Helen once again.

Grabbing a wheelchair from the lower floor, he fought the urge to fidget as he waited for the lift to arrive. Once inside, he tried to stay calm while various medics and technicians got in. The lift seemed to stop on every floor as it ascended. Finally, it came to rest with the familiar bump on the correct floor.

When he arrived at Ward A9, the doors were closed, and the technicians on duty took their time responding to the buzzer. When the door finally swung open, Noah stepped inside and waited for instructions.

"Patient's in the private room at the end." The technician jerked her head. "Needs a scan."

Noah's heart soared at his wonderful luck. Checking on Helen today would be easy.

Beside him, the technician was tapping a foot. "Don't dawdle!"

Bowing his head in apology, Noah followed the technician along the ward. Why did Helen need another scan when they'd suggested her last one had been clear? When they reached Helen's door, it was standing open. Lining the wheelchair up outside, Noah waited for further instructions.

"Transport's here." The technician's voice was cheery. "Ready for your scan?"

There was a rustling of covers and the sound of feet landing on the floor. The usual fumbling, as a pair of shoes and a robe were pulled on. Noah waited patiently, his eyes cast down, until the figure clambered into the wheelchair.

A hunched-over figure, with greying hair and wrinkled hands.

A figure that was definitely not Helen.

Panic seized him. As he moved on autopilot through the ward, Noah's mind was racing. At the door, he paused, waiting for the technician to release the door lock. Once the doors began to swing open, the technician turned to go back to the office. Noah glanced around. The ground in the immediate vicinity was clear of feet, and whilst there were murmured conversations going on in the main ward, there was nothing to suggest that anyone other than himself and the patient were close by.

Praying he wouldn't be caught, Noah glanced up at the patient progress board. There was one on the wall at the entrance to every single ward in the hospital. Scanning it as fast as he could, he found Helen's name at the very bottom.

Next to it, in large capital letters, was a note:

TRANSFERRED TO DANFORTH ACADEMY.