Page 320 of Scars of Fate

Beneath it, a narrow panel sat flush with the floor.

No handle.

Four screws held it in place.

Hawk searched the medical equipment.

“I need a screwdriver.”

I grabbed a pair of surgical scissors.

Lucas stared at them.

“That isn’t a screwdriver.”

“It is today.”

I dropped to my knees and forced one blade into the first screw.

The scissors slipped.

Metal cut into my palm.

Blood appeared.

Lucas crouched beside me.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m busy.”

He took the scissors.

“I’ll turn them. You hold the mask.”

Together, we removed the screws.

The first.

Second.

Third.

The pressure alarm screamed faster.

My thoughts began to feel slow.

Heavy.

Lucas’s movements lost some of their precision.

“Stay with me,” he said.

“I’m here.”

“Keep breathing.”

“I am.”