She shifts her weight onto the balls of her feet, knife ready.
“Open it.”
I turn the handle and push, and the door gives with a soft click, swinging inward with a large enough space for me to clear the frame. I race through first, weapon up, eyes moving left, right, center, but the light hits harshly, blinding me.
Compelling my eyes to adjust in fragments.
Then the smell follows.
Antiseptic, overwhelmingly sharp stinging the back of my throat, more than the first room.
The room comes into focus piece by piece.
Multiple machines wired together and monitors.
Two general surgical tables.
Two bodies.
Laid out side by side, not moving. Both of their skin pale under the light, too still.
Multiple lines running into them, tubes, IVs, something feeding, and something taking.
In between them, a doctor mid-motion with his hands inside of one, like this is routine and normal.
A nurse stands somewhat off his shoulder, an item clutched in her hand, a surgical instrument. The instant the door swings open, alarm ignites behind her widened eyes.
For a moment, nobody moves. Then everything breaks loose.
The doctor draws back; his eyes pinching together behind his mask filled with perplexity.
“What the- “
“Don’t.” My Glock is up before he finishes, aiming at his head. “Step away. Now.”
He wavers, stealing a glance downward as though he is debating whether to finish what he has already started before dealing with us.
Cassidy is next to me before the thought finishes forming.
Her gaze takes in the room, once, then locks.
On the tables.
Something in her hardens, rage churns beneath the surface, held together by the tiniest thread of control.
The nurse lets out a shrill sound. “You can’t be in here – this is a procedure – “
“Step. Away.” I repeat, leaving no room for argument.
The doctor eventually raises his hands reluctantly; his gloves are slick with blood as he backs away from the table, only half a step.
“We’re harvesting what we can.”
“Stop talking,” Cassidy intervenes, her voice neutral.
She walks up to the table, controlled. She’s holding something back inside her, at war with it, restraint written all over her face.
I track the room, keeping the doctor and nurse in my line of sight, but my attention is on her.
