Alex woke up, her eyes snapped open. But then drowsiness set in. She wasn't accustomed to drowsiness. Eyelids heavy, she blinked a few times. The top bunk was overhead.
She looked around the room.
Back in her cell.
"Kora?" she asked.
Normally, she would just get out of bed and jump up to Kora's bunk, but her body felt heavy, like it had been pumped full of heavy metals. The sleeping-smoke stuff really took a toll.
"Kora? You awake?"
No response.
They'd done it—caused a Riot. Alex had been sure she would wake up in solitary, for the crime of having started the riot. She wondered, then, if Kora had been put in solitary.
"Kora?"
Concern for her new friend roused her out of bed. She rolled off onto the floor, catching herself with her hands.
Barely had the strength to stand—low-as-heck blood sugar.
Tired blood and veins.
Heart starting to pick up, Alex got to her feet.
Kora wasn't on the top bunk. Or anywhere in the cell. Wasn't here.
Alex breathed heavy, angry.
A pang of sadness hit her—she'd been to solitary. It wasn't an experience she'd wish on anyone. "God help her," she said.
*****
Kora woke up.
Drowsy eyes.
Tired beyond belief.
Hot white lights, on the ceiling, beating down.
Sweat on her forehead.
She shifted on the bed, uncomfortable.
She was still waking up.
Still confused.
What had happened?
A riot.
Gas. Sleeping gas.
Where was she?
"You sustained a concussion," a man said, standing over her, his head blocking the light.
The man was dressed in white.
A lab coat.
Like a doctor.
"We gave you an anesthetic. You need rest."
She was in the hospital?
Probably a good thing.
Theresa couldn't get her here.
But what about Alex?
Kora's heart raised, but she couldn't fight the anesthesia.
She fell soundly asleep, under the hot lights.