Frog Season, Pt 3
Back at the settlement, deep inside the clinic, past the foyer, and beyond the welcome desk. Past the general prognosis station, and past the patient recovery rooms. Upstairs, inside of the special care unit, a young man slept on a medical pad. A rebreather was attached to his mouth and nostrils, and it ensured that his chest rose and fell with regularity.
Even as he slept with a face scrunched up in pain.
His clammy and pale skin was accentuated by dark and highly visible veins just underneath. Anyone who looked closely could see his blood pumping weakly inside them.
He looked like a corpse on the brink of being alive.
Around him were a handful of other beds, all filled with children roughly his age. All just as poisoned as he was. Each of them seemed to be in pain, and all wore rebreathers.
All looked to be on the verge of death.