Back outside, Maya’s legs burned. Sirens wailed in the distance. She ripped off the safety cap, pressed the auto-injector into Elijah’s thigh, and held it there for the agonizing three-count.
Suddenly, the screen filled with names. Hundreds of them. Not just immunization records or appointment dates — but live vitals. Heart rates. Blood oxygen levels. Geolocation dots moving across the CCSU campus map, each labeled with a student’s ID and a triage color: ccsu medicat
She didn’t think. She just ran again — up the hill to Vance Hall, pounded on the RA’s door, explained in three breathless sentences what was happening. They had a master key. In Elijah’s room, on his desk, under a playbill for The Crucible : a small red case. One EpiPen. Back outside, Maya’s legs burned
The portal loaded. Then flickered.
He shook his head weakly, eyes wide with panic. Suddenly, the screen filled with names