Chapter 79
I shake my head, redirecting my eyes to the chart. Work. Focus. This is what I came here for.
But then, a sound cuts through the stillness. A groan of strained metal, faint but wrong. My skin prickles.
I glance up. One of the overhead rigs, the kind used to support heavy monitoring equipment, is swaying ever so slightly. I frown, half–convinced it’s my imagination.
A coworker mutters something about the calibration being overdue, and I try to shake it off. Machines make noise. That’s all. Still, unease coils in my stomach. It prickles my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
Maybe it’s because I’ve watched too many movies. Maybe it’s because I’ve been constantly anxious, as if something terrible is going to happen, or maybe I’m just overreacting but for some weird reason this almost feels like a scene from Final Destination.
I force my eyes back to the paper. My pen scratches one line, two and then…
“Sierra p>
The shout rips across the lab like a whipcrack. I freeze from just the terror infused in it.
My head jerks up. Carl’s face is pale, his hand raised as he points-
The rig groans again, louder, and before I can think, before I can move, a massive shadow breaks loose above me.
Metal shrieks. My heart slams against my ribs. The crash is seconds away and I’m completely frozen, watching as I’m about to be squashed like a damn mosquito. 1
I close my eyes, accepting my fate, but then something slams into me. Hard. A body, a force, shoves me clear of my chair, across the floor. The air leaves my lungs in a rush as I hit the ground.
The impact comes behind us. A deafening, bone–shaking crash. Equipment shatters, sparks flash. Dust fills the air in a choking cloud.
I cough, blinking against the sting, disoriented. Strong hands grip my shoulders.
“Sierra–hey, are you hurt p>
My eyes focus, finally, and I see him. Carl. His face is far too close, eyes wild with urgency, chest heaving. 2
“I–I,” I stammer, voice trembling. My hands clutch at the floor as if it can steady the quake inside me. My ears are still ringing.
Around us, voices rise. Coworkers rush in, someone shouts to kill the power, and someone else swears loudly.
Carl doesn’t move his hands from me, not until I nod, not until he’s sure I’m steady. Then, and only then, does he sit back. His jaw is tight, his eyes cutting to the wreckage like he wants to beat the crap out of it. 3
My heart won’t stop hammering.
If he hadn’t been there… if he hadn’t pushed me p>
I glance at the twisted hunk of metal sprawled across my station, and a chill slides down my spine. That could have been me. I could have been under that.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the trembling. My coworkers are still shouting, assessing the damage, but their voices feel distant. All I can hear is the echo of the crashing sound, over and over again.
Carl shifts closer, lowering his voice. “I know you’re not fine, but we need to leave so that they can clean this mess p>
I want to argue, want to tell him I’m fine. But my throat tightens around the lie. My body won’t stop shaking.
Because the truth is, I’m not fine.
The wreckage stares back at me, silent and mocking. And all I can think about is how my baby and I would have been dead had Carl not reacted on time. 2