As they slowed, Remi cried out, “Look out.”
A rock completed its arc and smashed into the windshield on the passenger side, starbursting instantly in a shower of safety glass.
CHAPTER 32
Sam gunned the accelerator and screeched into a sidelong drift, fighting to keep the SUV from rolling as he abruptly reversed direction. Another rock struck its top, and then they were roaring away, going the wrong way down the one-way street.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked, daring a glance at Remi.
“Yes. Just some glass on me. But no cuts.” She hesitated. “What are we going to do?”
“Get off the road. Somewhere safe.”
“The hospital’s right there. They have guards, don’t they?”
Sam didn’t need to be coached. He made a hard left, aware that the crowd was running down the street following them. “I’d say we should try for the other end of town, but there are no guarantees trouble hasn’t started there, too.”
“This is crazy.”
Sam nodded. “It is. Let’s get to the hospital and wait for the authorities to show up. This strikes me as parasites looking for an excuse to cause mayhem. That will only last until the cops arrive and then it will lose its fun value pretty quick.”
“And if they don’t arrive?”
“That’s a whole different problem. But right now I have to believe these are isolated incidences. That looked to me like a bunch of poor islanders trying to figure out how to get free computers, using the MP’s murder as a pretense. Which is way different than the kind of social outrage that was apparently present during the riots in the mid-2000s.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
They arrived at the hospital, where a security guard raised the gate to admit them and then froze when he saw several bicycles and an ancient motor scooter leading a running throng toward the lot. Sam pulled in and the guard dropped the gate and followed the Toyota to the main hospital entrance. Sam jumped out with his backpack as Remi swung the passenger door open and all three bolted for the hospital as the rush of islanders neared the parking gate.
“Is there some kind of security barricade for the entrance?” Sam asked the terrified-looking guard. He seemed not to understand Sam’s question. Sam turned, his eyes roaming over the few patients waiting in the emergency room area, and then Dr. Vanya emerged from the rear of the ER, a puzzled expression in place.
Sam explained to her what was happening in a few short sentences and she sprang into action, barking orders to the guard and the staff as she hurried to the doors. Sam helped her free a thick cloth ribbon that ran floor to ceiling along one side of the entry and they lowered heavy set of steel shutters designed to protect the hospital in big storms.
They moved to the side windows and barely repeated the procedure before the first loud thumps pounded against the steel.
The security guard and the nurses hurried to the rear of the building to lower the barricades there, and after a few minutes a tense Dr. Vanya declared the building secure. Vanya eyed the Fargos as the frightened patients looked to her for reassurance and then used her cell phone to alert the police that the hospital was under attack. When she hung up, her face was tense.
“You’re lucky you made it in. After the last riots, we fortified the hospital so it could withstand a direct hit from a Category 5 hurricane. Those entry shutters wouldn’t budge even if you ran a car into them. We’re safe—for now.”
“Won’t the police put a stop to this?” Remi asked.
“That’s the hope. But it could take a while, depending on how stretched they are,” Vanya warned. “In the meantime, I have patients I need to attend to.”
Another loud crash sounded from the front entrance, but the metal shutters held. Sam lowered his voice and tilted his head toward Vanya.
“Might not be a terrible idea to push any metal desks and cabinets that are nearby to create another barrier just in case that one gives.”
She shook her head. “If they manage to get through the shutters, a few obstacles in their path won’t stop anyone.”
A woman rose from one of the waiting room benches and approached Dr. Vanya, obviously distraught. “Doctor, I’ve been waiting an hour. It’s Lilly—my daughter’s gone missing. You know how sick she is. We need to do something.”
“What do you mean, gone missing?” Vanya demanded.
“She disappeared yesterday. She’s the third one in my village in the last month. And she needs her meds. You warned her about taking them on time . . .”
Vanya led the woman to a remote area of the waiting room and spoke with her in low tones. Another thump echoed from one of the windows, but it lacked the violent urgency of the previous blows. The crowd was probably tiring of the sport and deciding what easier targets might be in the vicinity before the police arrived and dampened their fun. Free tablets and TVs held far more allure than being arrested for trying to break into the area’s primary health care facility.
The woman’s voice rose in pitch, and even across the room her hysteria was obvious. “But, Doctor, she’s sick. I can’t just wait to see if she returns. Too many of these kids are disappearing and we never hear from any again. And now my Lilly . . .”