The big truck flew down the mountain road and hit the smooth highway. The city lights appeared in the distance, shining through the dark rain like tiny stars.
In the back seat, Marcus made a low, weak sound. His skin looked as white as paper, and his breathing was very shallow. Clara looked back and felt a knot of fear in her chest. The floor of the truck was covered in dark red blood.
"He is running out of time, Alexander," Clara said, her voice shaking as she held the steering wheel tight. "He won't make it to a regular hospital."
"We aren't going to a hospital," Alexander said. His face was hard, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "The police watch the main hospitals. Julian would have men waiting there to finish him off. Turn left at the next light."
Clara turned the heavy truck ont
