Sea of Shadows eBook - Navy Thriller.com

42 JEFF EDWARDS
She pulled the door open, stepped into the corridor, and immediately
tripped over a heavy bundle of rags lying on the floor. She lost her footing
and pitched forward, just managing to turn her face to the side as she halfstumbled,
half-fell into the far corridor wall. Her shoulder banged
painfully into sculpted plaster and she nearly fell down entirely. Still
swaying and half-dazed, she looked over her shoulder at the bundle of
rags.
But it wasn’t a bundle at all. It was a person … A young woman, lying
on her side with her arms and legs sprawled limply in impossible
directions, like a rag doll dropped on the floor and forgotten. She wasn’t
moving. Was she breathing?
Sarah tried to bend over the woman, but the pain in her head ramped up
so violently that she thought she was going to lose consciousness. Her
blood roared in her ears, and her vision seemed to shift and waver. A hot
flash swept over her like a gust of air from a blast furnace.
She slumped against the wall, panting and praying for the pain in her
head to subside just a little. Through the nauseous fog of her pain, she
could see the young woman’s face. The woman’s eyes were open, staring
vacantly into the distance. Her lips were parted, and a trickle of bloodtinged
saliva dropped from the corner of her slack mouth to a spreading
pool on the floor. Another trickle ran from her right nostril and down her
cheek.
Oh god! What was wrong with this woman? Was she … dead? Sarah
opened her mouth to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. She
looked around for help. Someone. Anyone. She was alone in the corridor
with the dying woman.
Sarah began staggering toward the door of the closest office. She
couldn’t remember whose office it was, but it didn’t really matter. She
needed to call someone. Call for help.
The door couldn’t have been more than seven or eight meters away, but
the distance appeared to stretch and then contract in a dizzying manner that
seemed to be keeping rhythm with the pounding in Sarah’s head. Leaning
against the wall, Sarah made for the door, step after trembling step, her
knees becoming weaker with every movement. The door … the … door
… She stumbled and nearly went down. It was becoming difficult to
breathe.
There was something in her throat. Some sort of hard knot. She tried
to swallow and tasted something strange but distantly familiar. Her nose
was running. She swiped at it blindly with one hand. Her fingers came
away red. She was bleeding … Oh God … What was happening to her?
What was happening to all of them?