By the time lunch rolled around, Jana found herself even more nauseated by whatever it was mixed into the drink - she didn't even bother naming everything she'd been served this time. What was strange to her was that the nurse was still on duty - and she could actually see her grandmother, who pressed a finger to her lips in a quieting gesture before gesturing to the food. "Eat, Deborah," the ghostly woman said smoothly. "You need your strength."This thread is backdated to the aftermath of the Black Thursday event.
Her arm itched like nothing else, and she couldn't deny a slight dizziness, like she'd sat up too quickly. Yet she ate every bite of the food laid out before her, blue eyes caught on the nurse by the door, who was reading the paper. "Any word on how bad the damage is?" she asked, taking a bite of something.
"No, not yet. Be a couple days before they have estimates," he said, turning the page. She could see the ruined front doors of the Necropolis in one of the photos on the front page, along with other area buildings that she couldn't be bothered to name off right now. But she continued eating. "You feeling all right?"
"Mostly. Little bit startled, I guess. My first time in a major earthquake and all." She shook her head slightly, then put a hand to her forehead, trying to ease the lightheadedness. "What was the magnitude?"
"Speculation's around 7.5, but I don't think it's that high, really. That's close, though."
So it was that bad, Jana thought. The San Fransisco quake in 1906 was a 7.8, and that destroyed an entire city. Oh, hell. And then there's the snowstorm and freeze factor to go with it, of course. She hadn't forgotten the rushing water that had threatened to freeze her feet to the dance floor. So she finished her meal and settled in, but this time not to sleep. She had some other questions.
"Who are you?"
"Just a nurse here, Miss Vaughn. Name's Richard."
"Well, Richard," she said, "when do you get off shift?"
"After you're discharged. Took an extra shift to make sure they take proper care of you. Took a guess as to who was in the Necropolis with you. And saw those little scars on your throat."
What's that supposed to mean? she wondered, sliding her hand against the pale column of her neck, through flame-shaded strands of hair. She didn't feel any scars on her skin, but Richard claimed they were there...ah, well. It wasn't what she was really worried about. "What's up with the food?"
Something unusual flashed across Richard's face. "Nothing. Why?"
"It tastes different, is all."
