Priscilla breathed as instructed.
“Your lungs sound clear, and your heart rate is within the normal limit.” Dr. Collins put his stethoscope into his lab coat pocket. “On a scale of one to ten, where does your headache fall?”
“Nine maybe? It’s sliding into the migraine realm.” Priscilla pressed her temples as the pounding morphed into jackhammering inside her skull.
“That’s because of the carbon dioxide you inhaled.” He poked his head out and called for assistance. Priscilla expected the younger nurse to return, but this time, an older woman wearing dark green scrubs with little dogs romping around on the smock entered the cubicle.
“Martha, would you please bring me 600 milligrams of ibuprofen and a bronchodilator inhaler?” Dr. Collins requested.
The nurse nodded and disappeared.
Dr. Collins turned back to Priscilla. “The ibuprofen should take care of your headache, and the bronchodilator will ease the muscles around your airways to relieve any coughing or shortness of breath you may experience because of the smoke inhalation. The best thing for you is to rest, though. Any questions?”
“When should I use the inhaler?” Priscilla hoped she wouldn’t have to use it at all.
“It’s a precaution in case you start coughing more later on tonight.” He glanced at his watch. “Or this morning, as it’s now 2:00 a.m.”
“I only use the inhaler if I cough a lot.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” She wanted to ask about Mac and Luc, but the man smiled at her, then left the cubicle before she could.
Martha returned with a pill cup in one hand and cup of water in the other. “Here you go.”
Priscilla smiled her thanks and tossed back the tablets, then drained the water. “Are Mac and Luc ready to go?”
The nurse shrugged and took back both cups. “I don’t know. I’ll check.”
“That would be great.”
As the woman left the cubicle, she drew the curtain partially closed.
“Priscilla? Can I come in?” Luc’s voice had a scratchy tone to it, but he sounded much more upbeat than she felt.
“Yes.”
The curtain twitched and Luc poked his head around, then entered the cubicle. “How are you feeling?” He sported a scrubbed face, loose navy scrubs, and a fresh white bandage on his upper left arm poking out from under the short sleeve.
Priscilla slid off the bed and steadied herself against the railing. “Like I breathed in a ton of smoke. How about you?” She assessed him, noting the tired lines around his eyes and damp hair.
“The doctor let me shower. Then he rebandaged my arm.”
“You got a shower? I’m jealous.” She picked at her soot-covered jeans. “Maybe I can grab one too.”
Mac joined Luc in the cubicle. “I think that can be arranged.” He too was dressed in borrowed scrubs, a bandage on his forehead where he had scraped it during their escape from the crawl space. “Ilene’s scrounging up something for you to wear. Then she’ll stand guard while you get cleaned up.”
“Are we going to another safe house?” Priscilla leaned back against the bed. Man, she was tired. She wanted to collapse in a puddle on the floor, but the thought of washing some of the smoke from her body and hair kept her upright.
“Still working on that.” Mac fiddled with his phone. “We should have a destination by the time you’re ready to go.”
Ilene entered, another set of scrubs in her hand. “I think these will do for now. Ready for that shower?”
Priscilla nodded and followed Ilene into the women’s locker area, where the female staff showered and stored their street clothes.
Ilene stopped in front of a cubicle that held a small changing area, then a shower beyond that. “There’s soap and shampoo, with a couple of towels in there. Leave your clothes on the floor, and I’ll bag them. We should be able to wash them at the next safe house.”
“Thanks.” After cleaning up, she wrapped her hair in a towel, turban style, and put on the clean clothes Ilene had left for her.
The navy scrubs fit well enough, although she had to cinch the drawstring tight to avoid having droopy drawers. She shivered in the short sleeves. Hopefully, Ilene had found a coat or sweater to wear too. Priscilla pulled on fresh socks, then shoved her feet back into her black flats. Hanging the towel over the shower rod, she adjusted her hair towel more securely around her head and exited the cubicle.