her as she continued into the room. Occupied gurneys cluttered the walls of the hall. She searched the area for her parents but didn’t see either. Four uninjured people stood in line at the desk, and Jennie stepped up behind them.
“I been waitin’ here for forty-five minutes! Somebody gonna see my son, and I mean NOW!” The heavyset lady at the front of the line slammed her hand on the counter, causing Mickey to shudder in Jennie’s arms.
“I have told you three times, Mrs. Sawyer. Someone will be with your son as soon as possible.”
“That ain’t fast enough.”
“It’s the best I can do.”
“But he could bleed to death.” Mrs. Sawyer’s voice cracked.
“I’m sorry, but we’ll get to him as soon as possible.”
Mrs. Sawyer sobbed in response and walked toward one of the people who lay on a gurney against the wall. Blood stained the sheet that covered him, and it dripped off the corner to a sticky puddle on the floor.
The next person in line spoke so softly that Jennie couldn’t hear her.
“Room 306,” the nurse said in response, and the lady rushed toward the elevators.
The man in front of Jennie stepped up to the desk. “My name’s Earl, and I brought in a guy who was attacked by one of those alien dogs at the grocery store. I don’t know his name, but he’s sitting right there.”
Earl pointed to the guy in a seat near the desk. The man's blood spilled from his neck, reddening his arm. “Can you make sure he gets some help?”
Before the nurse could even answer, Earl walked away.
“Sir? Sir!” The nurse called after him.
Earl sped up to a half-jog and bolted out the stagnant glass doors.
“How am I supposed to fill out this paperwork and get this done?” The nurse mumbled to herself and shuffled through the papers in front of her. When she looked up at Jennie, she snapped, “What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking for Maggie Ransom.” Jennie rushed through the words. “My dad should have brought her in about an hour ago?”
The nurse tapped some keys on the computer in front of her. “Margaret Ransom?”
“Yes,” Jennie said, relived.
“Room 309.”
“Thank you.” Jennie headed for the elevators.
“Thank you,” Mickey repeated.
Jennie smiled in spite of herself.
Wailing began the moment th e elevator doors opened to the third floor. It came from every direction and from every room. Moaning and screaming like she’d never heard before. Mickey’s little fingernails dug into her shoulder, as she remained rooted to the spot.
The blood drained from Jennie’s face, and the elevator doors began to close again. A ding woke her from her freeze. She reached out her free arm and stopped the doors. With tentative steps, she got out before it could close again on her. The sounds of suffering made the panic in her chest rise again.
A man stepped out of a room halfway down the hall. He moved slowly as if he was in great pain, and his face was swollen and red. Pink foam, blood mixed with saliva, accumulated in the corners of his mouth.
Jennie found herself frozen again.
“Sir, you need to go back into your room and lie down. Sir!” The nurse darted around the desk across the hall and marched toward him.
She was a large black woman, wearing peach-colored scrubs with Snoopy on them. Her hands were on her hips, and her face was twisted with an impatient look. She almost towered over the bent man. He groaned, his deep voice joining the chorus of others.
“Sir!” The nurse admonished him and reached a hand toward his shoulder.
Jerking an arm out like a snake, the man gripped her hand and bit down. The nurse screamed and started beating the man over the head with her free arm, but he refused to let go. From three doors down, a woman came out and locked eyes with Jennie. The woman’s face had the same swollen look, the same foam, and a clump of her hair had been torn out. She limped in Jennie’s direction, dragging her left leg behind her. Jennie