Once there, Striker turned onto Penzance Drive and drove down the steep decline until the gravel road became dirt and river mud. The lower road fronted the Burrard Inlet, where gusts of mill steam clouded the view of Mount Seymour Provincial Park. Felicia pointed to a row ...
When they reached the locked entrance to the Critical Care Unit, Striker grabbed a gown from the bin and put it on. He tied the ends behind his back and looked around for a nurse. Moments later, the same nurse he’d dealt with last time came out of the staff lounge. He called her over and requeste...
No signs show the way. There’s just a pair of grey doors leading to a cargo elevator. That’s it. Striker had been there too many times to count. Long-forgotten memories bombarded him, one after another, whenever he came here – the murder victims, the car accident casualtie...