Page 135 of Dustwalker

“That’s a possibility. But I’m not?—”

“Every moment we keep her here is a drain on our resources. Those machines draw power from a limited pool, and nobody’s making new medical supplies anymore. She’s an outsider, and she’s taking up the time of our medical staff.”

“She’s used hardly anything so far, and she’s ahuman being. Isn’t a life still worth more than a few plastic tubes and bit of my time?” Nancy demanded quietly.

“And if she never comes out of it? The cost only adds up as the days go by. She’s going to need to be fed, and that’ll cause more complications. We can’t let this go on indefinitely.”

“That’s not your call to make, Dave. And you’re stupid if you think her companion will let you cut her off.”

“He couldn’t lay a hand on me,” Dave said uncertainly.

“You think rules will stop him?”

Who were they?

Where am I?

Lara blinked again and dragged her gaze around the room. The glaring light had dissolved into solid objects in varied shades of white—the ceiling, the hanging cloths, the wall, the sheet draped over her body. No real place could be so pure, so clean.

The beeping picked up speed and volume.

She parted her dry lips, wincing as they split, and tasted blood when she slid her tongue out to wet them. Her left arm was wrapped tight in a sling that looped around her neck. She tried to move it, but she was stopped by a bone-deep ache radiating up to her shoulder and down to the tips of her fingers. Lara lifted her right hand instead, only for something to tug at it, producing a sharp pain in the back of her hand.

Turning her head, she ran her gaze along the tubes and wires that connected her hand to the equipment beside the bed.

What the fuck?

“She’s awake,” Nancy said breathlessly. “Go get Ronin!”

People crowded around the bed, their features obscured by shadows as their bodies blocked the light. They all spoke at once, rapidly, using words Lara didn’t understand.

Her heart quickened. The beeping gained speed along with it, and Lara’s chest hurt, her every breath more labored than the last. She lifted her right hand again, moving it closer to her left. She needed to pull the foreign things from her body, needed to get away from these people, needed air…

“Hold her down, before she hurts herself!”

Hands fell upon Lara and pressed her down on the bed. She cried out.

“Lara,” Nancy said, “please remain calm. My name is—oh, no, don’t!”

Lara yanked her arm. There was a moment of resistance, another flare of sharp pain, and then the wires tore free. The beeping became a monotone, ceaseless drone.

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were on fire.

The hands closed around her arms and legs, dragging her down. Lara struggled against them. Agony swept through her body, and fear permeated her very soul.

Warlord stood above her, fist swinging toward her face, raining blow after blow after blow.

Lara screamed. She thrashed, battling the strangers’ holds.

They’d deactivated Ronin, had taken him from her, and Warlordkept hitting her, over and over, and the pain wouldn’t end. Her throat was raw from her screams, but the hands wouldn’t relent.

“Lara, I’m Nancy, I’ve been?—”

Lara’s right arm escaped their hold, and she swung her fist. The blow struck Nancy, who cried out and flinched, blood oozing from her lip. More hands clamped around Lara’s forearm and forced it down.

No! I need to get to Ronin!

“Are you okay?” someone asked.