I turn my head as much as my sore muscles will allow toward Zoë's bed. Doctors and nurses surround it calling out commands I've heard countless times on television.
"Where's the A negative?"
"Her pressure is dropping."
"Get the crash cart."
A long, monotone beep pierces my eardrums. My weak arms are useless as I feebly try to prop myself up in the bed. I call out Zoë's name but my throat is so dry that speech fails me. This can't be happening. Not to Zoë. Not like this.
"Clear!"
The defibrillator zaps against her skin, triggering a few quick beeps from the heart monitor before it returns to its monotone state.
"Clear!"
Again. The same.
"Clear!"
Nothing changes.
"Push the A negative. Resuming compressions."
Weak and fighting to keep my eyes open, I fall back against the bed, losing what little strength I have. As I drift in and out of consciousness, my mind picks up random words here and there. Bag her... more A negative... never seen anything like this before... get Dr. Milton...
I panic, not knowing how much time is passing, not knowing if Zoë is alive or dead.
Gathering all my strength, I peer over the edge of my pod. A nurse steps away from Zoë's bed to the dirty linen bin with a pile of blood-soaked towels. I gasp as I get a better look at Zoë. Blood is smeared around her face and neck, the sheet she lies on and the shoulders of her hospital gown are drenched in it.
Just as I push my upper body off the bed, a nurse rushes over and drains a syringe into my I.V., knocking me unconscious.
YOU ARE READING
Dreamwalkers: The Awakening
FantasyBeing able to create alternate universes in your sleep might seem like the ultimate super power, but when a malevolent force from the dream realm tracks you down in real life, how do you escape it? Seventeen-year-old dreamwalkers and life-long best...
