Flying through the air Brad screamed out in terror.   But he landed fairly safely on the linoleum-covered floor, twisting his right ankle, but otherwise sustaining no injuries.

Michael Draper was less fortunate.

Hearing his work mate screaming hysterically, Brad looked up and saw that the bearded man had Mike’s neck in his hands.

Despite the orderly’s efforts to break free, the bearded man gave his hands one powerful twist.   There was a sickening snapping of bone as Michael Draper’s neck broke, killing him instantly.

‘Oh, God!’ thought Brad in shock.   Although he had seen dead and dying people before, he had never seen anyone killed in cold blood before.

As the bearded killer ran up the stairs to the next floor, Brad sat on the linoleum in shock for a moment.   Then, wincing at the agony in his right ankle, he climbed painfully to his feet and started down the corridor toward a phone at the corner, using the wooden handrail on the wall for support.

*      *      *

On the second floor Jim Kane and Con Rodriguez were both having trouble staying awake.   Neither man was used to doing night work, since their respective police budgets were too small to include overtime money.

“God this is boring!” complained Jim reaching back as best he could to rub at a crick in the small of his back.

“Yeah,” agreed Con.   He wished that they could at least sit down instead of having to stand up for hours outside the door.   He wanted to stamp his feet to relieve the aching but didn’t want to risk waking the sleepers in other wards, or appear weak in front of his companion.

“I’ll be glad when…” began Jim.   He stopped at the sight of a tall, thickset man walking toward them down the corridor.

Seeing the black-bearded man, Con started to say, “Funny that looks just like…”   Then he stopped, thinking, ‘My God that looks exactly like Kostyn Pavolich!’   Although he knew that Pavolich was dead, in the freezer at the morgue.

He had heard disturbing rumours about a man looking like Pavolich attacking Bear Ross and killing Jacinta Blakey.   Until now he hadn’t taken the reports seriously.   “My God, it’s true,” he said, reaching for the holster at his belt.