The trailer’s engine rumbled hoarsely before falling silent.
“We've arrived!” Andrew turned to us. “You can get out.”
Birds hovered close to the ground, and the stifling heat outside seemed saturated with sweet, smoky smells, as if the wind had vanished altogether. The air carried the scent of an approaching storm.
Beyond the hospital building, where tall fences loomed, soldiers and a police convoy stood guard. A black helicopter flew overhead with a loud roar; the emblem of the Three had been covered by a design of coiling serpents, but I didn't get a chance to fully make out the symbol.
“Are you coming with us?” I asked Andrew, standing by the trailer door as I watched the helicopter pass by. “Or will you be waiting?”
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a bit,” Andrew said. “I want to stretch my legs and get a look around. We haven’t been this far before…”
I nodded in agreement, concealing the slight nervousness I felt. Sam, hurriedly grabbing the equipment bag and throwing on a more or less decent windbreaker over his favorite hoodie, darted out of the stifling trailer and slammed the door behind him. I shot a quick glance at Dort, then, taking a deep breath, looked around.
We needed material. And we would get it. Or create it.
I nudged Sam in the side and hurried toward the hospital doors, still surveying the scene behind the building. Everything looked unsettling and serious, which, in some way, was reassuring – it increased the chances of finding something valuable, a big story that could truly tarnish the godlike image of the Three. Perhaps confirmation of the epidemic in the North could not only open people’s eyes but spur them to action.
And, thank the heavens, there were no Reaper vehicles in sight.
Sam caught up with me on the stairs, muttering something under his breath as he opened the door for me and motioned me through.
The hospital smelled of various medications, and an almost tangible sense of sadness and despair hung in the air. I flinched, pausing for a moment and trying to steady the tremor in my body. My legs felt like stone, and my palms grew clammy; there are things that leave a mark on our lives forever – things you can learn to live with, but never truly erase. I forced myself to push away those intrusive thoughts and remind myself why we were here and what we hoped to accomplish. I stepped forward, casting a quick glance around the room: yes, it was just another hospital, like hundreds of others. Flustered medical staff in sterile uniforms hurried past, each with their own bag of tools, each lost in thoughts about patients, difficult cases, hopes, and fears. Patients either lay in beds or stood by the windows, gazing enviously at the people outside those cursed walls. Someone was always crying; someone was always celebrating and leaving the hospital, determined never to come back. In the corners were large white pots with tall plants, their green leaves meant to be calming. And all this silence, broken only by soft voices, moans, cries, and the hum of machines, was slowly starting to drive me mad…