leg into the crack in the door which had opened up in the blast. She used it as a lever until the lock mechanism broke and splintered, weakened as it was by the blast. Morgan forced the door back until she could slip through.
The corridor was full of panicked patients and nurses trying to keep them calm while leading them out of the building. Smoke was pouring into the corridor and there were visible flames at the far end. Morgan knew it wouldn’t be long until the fire caught hold and the whole building would be destroyed. She grabbed the arm of a passing nurse and shouted,
“Where do you keep the headsets for the patients? Where’s your storage area?”
“We need to get out. Please help me with the patients.” The nurse was clearly in shock but Morgan had to find Dinah.
“Which way?” she shouted at the woman, shaking her. The nurse pointed towards the flames.
“It’s back there, but you can’t go now, the fire is too close.”
But Morgan was already sprinting down the corridor. As the smoke made it harder to see and breathe, she dropped to her hands and knees. Covering her mouth with a discarded robe, she crawled onwards as the blazing heat threatened to push her back. Through stinging eyes, she saw a doorway open on her left and through the smoke, the shape of a body. Dinah was lying on the floor, her head bloody. It looked like she had been attacked before the explosion.
Morgan grabbed a sheet from the pile in the storeroom and laid it down. She rolled her friend onto it. Then she spotted a number of headsets with oversized earpieces in a box marked with the Zoebios logo. But there was no time to examine them now. Taking the end of the sheet, Morgan began to crawl back down the corridor, dragging Dinah’s body behind her, grateful that the linoleum meant she could pull the body easily on the slippery surface.
The smoke was heavy and thick now, billowing near the ceiling with flashes of flame shot through it. Morgan knew that the gases were building up to the point where there would soon be another explosion. They had to get out. She took another breath from the air close to the floor and then stood up, eyes squinting. She had more leverage standing, but had to hold her breath in order not to inhale the gases. Drawing on her last reserves of energy, Morgan pulled Dinah faster down the corridor, until they turned a corner and the air began to clear. At the end was a door opened to the courtyard beyond. Re-energized now, Morgan ran for it, pulling her friend to safety. They were spotted by firemen who were entering to tackle the flames and who helped them to safety.
Three ambulances with lights flashing stood in the yard outside the block. The patients who were still standing were being helped further away from the building. A paramedic moved to take the sheet from Morgan’s hand but she clutched it tighter, unwilling to let Dinah out of her sight.
“It’s OK,” the young paramedic said. “You can let go now. We’ll help your friend.”
Coughing and retching from the smoke, as her eyes streamed, Morgan finally relented and let go. She watched as they lifted Dinah onto a stretcher, briefly assessed her and began wheeling her to an ambulance. Morgan sat down on the pavement and breathed from the oxygen mask they had given her. She looked back towards the wards of the Ezra Institute, flames curling from the windows up the walls, the noise of roaring as fire consumed the building. The old furnishings, linen supplies and even the paint meant the fire caught quickly. People around her were talking about a bomb attack, perhaps the Palestinians or an extremist religious group. But Morgan knew this wasn’t a coincidence. There had to be a connection between the deaths of the men, the prophecy and this explosion. Perhaps it was a way to silence a particular doctor from investigating just a little too thoroughly.
Dinah.
Morgan had lost sight of where they had taken her.
Back in the Saddle (v5.0)