Outside In. Maria Snyder V.Читать онлайн книгу.
new levels were completed, the infirmaries on levels two and three would be combined into one large medical facility, spanning two grids. This had been an easy decision for the Committee. A shame they all weren’t.
Keeping an eye on his vital signs, I stayed with Emek until he stabilized. When he roused, we moved him to a regular bed in the main room. I ensured he was comfortable, helped him sip a glass of ginger water, then tucked him under a blanket as he drifted off to sleep.
I turned and met Lamont’s measuring gaze. She had watched me, but instead of commenting on my nurturing instincts, she checked Emek, nodded and returned to the operating room to clean up. Knowing the importance of a sterile area, I helped. We worked in silence, but the tension between us wasn’t quite as thick. When the surfaces gleamed and the place smelled of antiseptic, I tossed the dirty rags into a special medical bag and sent it down the laundry chute.
“You did well,” she said. “Thank you.”
I grunted a reply, heading to my room. The rush from the emergency surgery fizzled and exhaustion soaked into my bones.
“There’s a package on your bed from Logan,” Lamont said as I pushed open the door.
Good thing she had mentioned Logan’s name. Because if I hadn’t known he brought it here, I would have assumed it was from Lamont. Then I would have carried it to Lamont’s office and smashed the thing to little pieces. Instead, I set the vampire box on the table. The device had been used by the Pop Cops to test the scrubs for illegal drugs and pregnancy by taking blood samples. It could also settle the issue of my birth mother, determining if Lamont was indeed my parent. It had been Logan’s idea to use the box.
I stretched out on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered why Logan sent it now. He knew I had no desire to prove the relationship. Lamont hadn’t acknowledged me—that was proof enough. Guess I would need to visit Logan and ask him.
Eventually I drifted to sleep. Floating in a sea of blackness and surrounded by nothing, I strained to reach solid ground. But my body thinned. My arms turned translucent. My legs disappeared. I dissolved into a void.
Sound and touch returned with a vengeance. A roar woke me. The noise rattled the floor and my bed lurched so hard it tossed me across the narrow room. I slammed into the wall along with the table. The vampire box clipped my forehead as it shattered against the sheet metal.
Loose items spun around and knocked into me as if the contents of my room had been stuffed into one of the huge laundry dryers and turned on.
The bluelight died, plunging me into darkness. Then it all stopped. I ended up sprawled in a heap on the floor amid a pile of debris. Dazed and confused, I stayed still, trying to clear my head.
Then the silence hit me. As familiar as the beat of my own heart, the Hum had always rumbled throughout Inside. A comforting constant noise noticed more on a subconscious level than noted on a conscious level.
The Hum meant the power plant was doing its job, producing electricity and heat, keeping us alive.
Silence meant the opposite. Until that moment, I hadn’t known true terror.
2
IN THE BLACKNESS OF MY ROOM, I UNTANGLED FROM the heap and stood. A wave of dizziness hit, spinning me back onto the ground. Pressing my fingers to my temple, I touched a tender spot covered with a sticky wetness—blood. I probably had a concussion.
Unable to trust my legs, I crawled, shoving aside debris as I moved toward the door. Or so I hoped. In the darkness, direction was hard to determine.
My hand touched a round dome, and I picked up my exploring helmet with a cry of triumph. Funny how the small things become important in an emergency. I donned the helmet, toggling on the light.
I faced the wrong way and the room was a mess—no surprise. A thick glass splinter jutted from my right forearm—a surprise since it didn’t hurt. Of course once I stared at the blood welling from the wound, pain shot up my arm. Basic first aid instructions that I’d learned when I lived in the care facility replayed in my mind. I left the glass in place.
The crushed innards of the vampire box crunched beneath me as I reached the door. Despite my refusal to use the box, the damn thing had still gotten my blood via the glass shard.
I stumbled through the door and illuminated another disaster area. The sitting room appeared as if a giant had upended all the furniture. I checked Lamont’s bedroom. It mirrored mine, but at least she wasn’t trapped under debris.
The sudden understanding that whatever had shaken Inside most likely caused major injuries and maybe death, cleared the confused fog from my mind in a microsecond. Energized, I wove through the carnage of the apartment. Ignoring the disaster area that used to be her office and exam room, I reached the patient area.
I swept the light around the broken beds. Emek waved a bloody hand from underneath a pile. Digging through the debris, I uncovered him.
“What happened?” he asked.
“No idea. Are you injured?”
“I woke up on the floor.”
“Any pain?”
“Don’t think so.”
I righted a bed, returned the mattress and helped Emek lie down. A groan sounded across the room. I followed it to the other patient. She had a gash on her cheek, but I couldn’t find any other injuries.
“Is Doctor Lamont all right?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen her,” I said.
“She was right here before …”
What to call it? The Big Shake? Then the thought of Lamont being one of the casualties sent panic, fear and … grief? … shooting through my heart. It triggered another horrible possibility—Riley. He could be hurt or worse.
My first impulse was to run to his apartment and check on him, but he could be anywhere. The ten-hour shifts had ceased after the rebellion and no other schedule had replaced it yet. Once I settled my out-of-control pulse, I decided to stay here. Riley knew my location. He would come to me. If he could.
I searched the infirmary and found Lamont unconscious and bleeding from a nasty gouge on her head. Something like relief flowed through me, but, if asked, I would deny the feeling. After I hefted her into a bed and bandaged her wound, I worked to get ready for the inevitable arrival of the injured.
As I rushed to clean up, redlights came on. I skidded to a stop. Redlights? That was new. And creepy. I’d never seen it before or even heard stories from the old-timers. In Inside, bluelights stayed on for sleeping or in temporarily unoccupied areas. Daylights brightened occupied rooms and work places. Darkness stayed in places like the Gap between levels, and closed rooms. In the Expanse, there had been a couple rows of bluelights in the Expanse, marking the walls.
I switched off my light and removed the helmet. The eerie red glow gave enough illumination to see, which meant I had little to no time before my “guests” showed up.
At first, they trickled in, coming in pairs or by themselves, seeking medical treatment. The trickle transformed into a stream then a deluge. I recruited those who had carried friends. We divided the injured into three groups—bad, really bad and dire. The first two groups were taken next door to Quad A3—a common area. The last stayed in the main infirmary.
Then the emergencies arrived. Panicked, I flipped the switch that called Doctor Sanchia even though I knew he would be swamped with his own problems up on level four. I tore through the piles on the floor under the supply cabinets, searching for smelling salts to wake Lamont.
When I found them, I broke the package open and waved it under her nose.
She jerked away, but opened her eyes. “Trella? What—”
Her eyes cleared as I rushed to explain. By the time I finished, she was on her feet and issuing orders. Every ablebodied person was pressed into