and her family huddled in a corner. The woman had her arms around the heads of two children, tucking them in tightly to her body as if trying to hide them. She met Farrah’s eyes for a moment, then motioned sharply to the other doorway out of the room with her chin.
Farrah couldn’t blame the woman for wanting her gone. Without saying a word, she nodded once and hurried out of the room, conscious of the frightened gazes of the children following her. She needed to hurry. Mrs. Diab wouldn’t lie to protect her, not if her family were threatened.
She grabbed a scarf hanging from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around her head before leaving. Hopefully it would make her less conspicuous, though a woman in a white medical coat and pants was sure to stick in the memory of anyone who saw her. Trying to blend in with the early morning foot traffic, she forced herself not to run. Distant gunfire broke the morning’s peace. Around her, people started, paused, and then hurried on their way, some changing direction away from the ominous noise. Farrah broke into a trot along with the rest of them and was soon at her destination.
The old barn had been remodeled some years ago into a garage of sorts. She used one of the keys on her ring to gain entry, closing and locking the door behind her. Several windows set high in the walls flooded the medium-sized building with dusty light. Farrah slipped between the converted van, which served as the Clinic’s ambulance, and Dr. Couruy’s compact little sedan. The other entrance to the safe room was hidden in a corner behind a wheeled tool chest. She tugged and pushed the heavy chest away from the wall just enough to get the door opened. She stood for several seconds, staring at the steep stairs that disappeared into darkness. Her panting was all she could hear, the rush of air in and out seeming to drown out everything else.
Farrah pressed a hand to her chest. She had to do this. Kyle was down there, hurting, possibly bleeding. She needed to be with him. Too bad there wasn’t another brave soldier to go down first and turn on the lights for her.
“You’re not a baby,” she scolded herself in a harsh whisper. “You’re a full grown woman, a doctor for Pete’s sake. Grow a spine, Hastings.”
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Getting the door closed again was awkward. She could only pull the chest back so far without trapping her hand. She sat on the steps when the door was firmly closed, blocking out all light. The darkness seemed to hang like a thick shroud around her, making it hard to breathe. Sweat trickled down her back and dust tickled her nose. Only the knowledge that Kyle was waiting for her kept her from shoving the door open again.
She finally made herself stand, one hand pressed against the wall, the other out in front of her. One step. Two steps. Her legs shook hard, threatening to give out. Farrah sat abruptly. She buried her face in her hands and caught back a sob. Why in the world hadn’t she brought a flashlight? It wouldn’t be so bad if she could see something.
Deciding to stay low instead of risking a tumble, she inched her way down several more steps. When she reached the bottom, she stood up cautiously, staying close to the wall. There was a light switch here somewhere. She blinked back tears as she ran her hands over the rough surface. It had to be here. She had to have light. The darkness was so absolute, adding to her feeling of suffocation. She could feel the press of the earth above her, the buildings, two and three stories high, sitting heavy on their foundations. Crowds of people stomping back and forth. Vehicles rolling along, their metal bodies pounding over the uneven roads. The thought of all that weight pressing down on top of her made her cringe. Dear Lord, the ceiling could give way at any moment!
Caught on the edge of panic, Farrah closed her eyes and hugged the cool wall. She knew she’d have to
Farrah couldn’t blame the woman for wanting her gone. Without saying a word, she nodded once and hurried out of the room, conscious of the frightened gazes of the children following her. She needed to hurry. Mrs. Diab wouldn’t lie to protect her, not if her family were threatened.
She grabbed a scarf hanging from a hook on the wall and wrapped it around her head before leaving. Hopefully it would make her less conspicuous, though a woman in a white medical coat and pants was sure to stick in the memory of anyone who saw her. Trying to blend in with the early morning foot traffic, she forced herself not to run. Distant gunfire broke the morning’s peace. Around her, people started, paused, and then hurried on their way, some changing direction away from the ominous noise. Farrah broke into a trot along with the rest of them and was soon at her destination.
The old barn had been remodeled some years ago into a garage of sorts. She used one of the keys on her ring to gain entry, closing and locking the door behind her. Several windows set high in the walls flooded the medium-sized building with dusty light. Farrah slipped between the converted van, which served as the Clinic’s ambulance, and Dr. Couruy’s compact little sedan. The other entrance to the safe room was hidden in a corner behind a wheeled tool chest. She tugged and pushed the heavy chest away from the wall just enough to get the door opened. She stood for several seconds, staring at the steep stairs that disappeared into darkness. Her panting was all she could hear, the rush of air in and out seeming to drown out everything else.
Farrah pressed a hand to her chest. She had to do this. Kyle was down there, hurting, possibly bleeding. She needed to be with him. Too bad there wasn’t another brave soldier to go down first and turn on the lights for her.
“You’re not a baby,” she scolded herself in a harsh whisper. “You’re a full grown woman, a doctor for Pete’s sake. Grow a spine, Hastings.”
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. Getting the door closed again was awkward. She could only pull the chest back so far without trapping her hand. She sat on the steps when the door was firmly closed, blocking out all light. The darkness seemed to hang like a thick shroud around her, making it hard to breathe. Sweat trickled down her back and dust tickled her nose. Only the knowledge that Kyle was waiting for her kept her from shoving the door open again.
She finally made herself stand, one hand pressed against the wall, the other out in front of her. One step. Two steps. Her legs shook hard, threatening to give out. Farrah sat abruptly. She buried her face in her hands and caught back a sob. Why in the world hadn’t she brought a flashlight? It wouldn’t be so bad if she could see something.
Deciding to stay low instead of risking a tumble, she inched her way down several more steps. When she reached the bottom, she stood up cautiously, staying close to the wall. There was a light switch here somewhere. She blinked back tears as she ran her hands over the rough surface. It had to be here. She had to have light. The darkness was so absolute, adding to her feeling of suffocation. She could feel the press of the earth above her, the buildings, two and three stories high, sitting heavy on their foundations. Crowds of people stomping back and forth. Vehicles rolling along, their metal bodies pounding over the uneven roads. The thought of all that weight pressing down on top of her made her cringe. Dear Lord, the ceiling could give way at any moment!
Caught on the edge of panic, Farrah closed her eyes and hugged the cool wall. She knew she’d have to
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