"Do you have any idea that if that patient dies, you'll be held responsible? What you're doing right now is killing someone."
Captain Paulson laughed.
"Kid, I've seen this routine a hundred times. Drink it, pass it, and if nothing comes out, you're free to go."
"There's no time!"
I shot to my feet, but two guards shoved me back down by the shoulders.
"My brother is going to die! He's only eighteen!"
"Enough!" Paulson flicked a glance at his men.
One guard clamped my jaw open. The other tipped the cup and poured.
I thrashed, but more than half of it went down.
I collapsed over the table, fingers clawing at my throat.
All that came up was bile.
"That'll do it. Wait for nature to take its course." Paulson dusted off his hands. "Lock her in the back room. Come get me when she's done."
The door slammed shut.
I crumpled to the floor, checked the time, and couldn't stop shaking.
Too late. It was going to be too late.
No. I couldn't just sit here and wait to die.
Before the laxatives kicked in, I dragged myself up and scanned the room.
The door was bolted. The only way out was a small window, set high on the wall.
If I stacked the junk in the corner, I could reach it.
Then my stomach seized.