CHAPTER 22
Kennedy blinked herself awake. How long had she been knocked out? Her eyes were dry, as if her contacts had crusted onto her corneas.
Thirsty. She was thirsty.
“Easy, now.” The voice was garbled somehow, like someone talking at her through a wall of water. An enormous hand covered with a yellow glove held her down.
She tried to ask for a drink, but all that came out was, Wifter.
“Calm down. You were injured, but you’re going to be just fine.”
Kennedy’s eyes traveled up from the hands to the giant rubber suit. The hazmat helmet.
“Where am I?” This time, the words came out more clearly.
“You’re in an isolation unit.”
She blinked as memories coursed and flooded through her brain.
The explosion. The lockdown. The epidemic.
“Am I sick?”
She didn’t know if the healthcare w
