He whispered again, louder this time, but the syllables tangled. “Ma…rr…in…rr…evacuate.” The muscles in his neck strained; sensors blinked red, recording a pulse racing from something deeper than pain. Helen steadied his shoulder, murmuring calm, though unease spread through her chest like an echo from underground.
“Easy,” she said. “You’re at Memorial Medical Center.” He blinked as if the words meant nothing, gaze sweeping the room of machines, digital screens, sterile light. To a man last conscious so long ago, even safety must have looked unfamiliar, like waking in the future by mistake.