Bound by Night(24)

every labored breath. This was not good, and the situation became a lot more not good when she slid her gaze upward. His trachea had cranked hard to the left side of his neck, flanked on either side by distended veins
that bulged up from under the skin. Dropping her ear
to his chest, she cursed. The diminished breath sounds
in his right lung confirmed her suspicions.
Tension pneumothorax.
Her vampire-physiology schooling had included
medical classes, and Riker’s signs and symptoms were
straight from the basic trauma manual. Under normal
circumstances, a vampire could survive, but there was
nothing normal about these circumstances, not when
Riker’s natural healing ability was being compromised
by the acid she’d dosed him with.
Hastily, she rummaged through the first-aid kit, cursing at the contents. She wasn’t a medical doctor, but with her knowledge of vampire anatomy, she figured she could perform a minor operation if she had to.
But not with gauze, dull scissors, and tweezers.
Shoving the first-aid kit aside, she dug into the bag of remaining supplies. Water, protein bars, a pad of sticky notes, more candles, and a blanket that might come in handy later, but they weren’t going to help with Riker’s out-of-control bleeding now.
Which left her with no choice but to handle the boric-acid poisoning.
Closing her eyes, she flipped through mental files pertaining to the development of the antivampire powder—basically, mace for fanged people—and the cure. Although the highly concentrated boric-acid powder was now in use by both private citizens and law enforcement, Nicole had, only days ago, signed off on large-scale production of the antidote for distribution to the public.
She remembered that day clearly, because a few hours later, she’d been informed that dozens of vampires had been executed in the very lab where the antidote had been perfected, supposedly on her orders.
It had been sunny outside. She’d been planning the company Christmas party, even though it was still months away. She’d even made a teeny origami Christmas tree.
And then Chuck had burst into her office to show her the video of the vampires being dosed with boric acid and left to die in writhing agony in their cells.
Nicole had thrown up in the garbage can next to her desk. When she’d finally stopped heaving, she’d gone on a rampage that included firing most of the staff at the Minot lab facility. Then she’d been forced to hire them all back when Chuck shoved a signed execution directive under her nose.
The signature had been hers. It didn’t matter that she swore she hadn’t signed the order. What mattered was that suddenly, she’d had her eyes opened to a reality she hadn’t wanted to face. How many vampire test subjects had suffered in Daedalus labs in order for her company to profit from the weapon she’d used on Riker? How many vampires had died horrible, excruciating deaths?#p#分页标题#e#
Nicole had dedicated her life to saving humanity from the vampire scourge. But right now, as she looked at Riker, helpless on the ground, and thought about Lucy, who only wanted candy, not blood, Nicole couldn’t work up any pride in what she’d done.
Riker gasped, spitting blood onto the cave floor, and she shoved her shame into a box to be explored later. She couldn’t be responsible for killing him. Not with a Daedalus weapon, anyway.
So the antidote . . . she bit her lip, her brain working a million miles an hour. A large percentage of the cure contained calcium carbonate as a neutralizing agent. Calcium carbonate was often used in antacids. A frisson of hope shot through her, and she dug through the first-aid kit again, hoping like hell that vampires used Tums.
 Nothing. Dammit. She stared at the candles while her mind spun like a centrifuge. In the background, Riker’s breathing grew more labored. He had a couple of hours at the most.
One of the candles flickered, spitting a drop of wax down the side of the white pillar.
Ash.
Son of a bitch, of course!
“Hold on, vampire.” She darted to the cave entrance, hesitating only a second to listen for the poachers before creeping out into the twilight to gather an armful of twigs, sticks, and rotted wood.
She hurried back inside, but her heart sank at the sound of Riker’s uneven respirations filling the cave with an ominous death rattle. He didn’t have much time.
Adrenaline and fear made her hands shake as she used the wood and a candle to start a fire that was no larger than the burning end of a match.
“Come on,” she urged the tiny flame, but it seemed the fire had its own slow agenda.
Dammit. Had this been any other situation, she’d have burned the sticky notes too. But vampires were so sensitive to chemical vapors that even minute quantities of the chemicals used to process paper could further damage Riker’s already compromised lungs.