It was the pounding on the door that woke her up. She must’ve drifted off sleep. The bulb was emitting a weird green light. Strange, she thought. Why would they change the color of the light?
She slowly stood up, still feeling a little woozy from the blood loss; the back of her shirt was stiff with caked blood. She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them; the lighting of the room was back to its original hue. Must’ve hallucinated that, she concluded. This worried her. She couldn’t start imagining things now.
Somebody fumbled with the lock and the door swung open. It was Lawrence and Travis.
“Have you made up your mind?” Lawrence wasted no time beating around the bush. “Will you answer the questions we have for you?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling both like a coward and a traitor at the same time.
A look of disappointment crossed Travis’ face. I guess he really wanted me to die.
“Travis, get her to the first aid room and have the doctors fix her up a bit. I’m afraid her back and shoulders are going to become infected if they’re not treated soon,” Lawrence instructed.
Travis gave a curt nod and shoved her in front of him. They left Lawrence, who appeared to be deep in thought. Neither Pierce nor Travis attempted to strike up conversation the entire way to the first aid room. The only time Travis spoke was to bark out directions, telling her which way to turn.
They attracted a fair amount of attention in the hallways, but everybody refused to meet Pierce’s eyes. She felt estranged and alone.
Travis quickly guided her to the back of the first aid room and summoned a doctor dressed in a crisp white uniform. The doctor—a tall, stately woman with auburn hair swept into a sleek pony tail—gave a quick glance at her back and whistled.
“What ever happened? Looks like you got mauled by a cave bear.”
“You’re actually not too far off the mark,” Pierce said dryly.
The doctor went to the cabinet and retrieved some clean cloth, antiseptic and cotton pads. “My name’s Dr. Norrison.” She deftly cut away the back of her shirt and began cleaning the wounds again, applying a thick layer of the pain numbing cream first. “Travis, what’s with the cuffs? How is a patient supposed to recover like that?”
“She’s dangerous,” Travis said. “Murdered Ruth and Chelsa’s leopard. Almost got Troop too. “
Dr. Norrison pressed her lips into a thin line. “Take the handcuffs off. She’s in no state to fight and I can’t properly treat her injuries like this.”
Travis let out a resigned sigh but obeyed the doctor. Pierce tenderly rubbed her wrists where the sharp metal edges had rubbed them raw.
“Will she have to stay here overnight?” Travis asked.
“Yes. Go now. I’m sure you could be more useful somewhere else.”
Dr. Norrison drew a curtain around them for some privacy and indicated for Pierce to sit on the examination table. She gently prodded her back and asked, “Does that hurt?”
Pierce shook her head. The antiseptic was doing its job.
Dr. Norrison rummaged around a drawer and returned holding something long and metallic. Why does she have a dagger? Pierce wondered. Her muscles clenched, poised to run. Pierce blinked a few times and she realized it was actually a needle Dr. Norrison held in her hand. I must have hallucinated again.
