CHAPTER 123
Kate heard the sound of hissing air all around her. She still couldn’t feel her body, but the air was warm, only a little warm at first, but it grew warmer with every passing second. She tried to push up off the floor, but she fell back face-first. She was so tired. She let her limp body collapse into the frigid suit.
Gradually, the warmth filled the suit, and the feeling returned to her body. They — whoever they were — were bringing her body temperature up. The fog on the helmet’s face mask turned to drops of water that ran down in streaks, and a view of the floor materialized in lines, like a shredded picture being reassembled, one skinny strip at a time. It was a metal grate, except… she couldn’t see through it; no, it was a solid metal floor with dimples.
She turned over, onto her back, and stared at the smooth iron ceiling. The fog was receding now. It still felt cool, but it was downright balmy compared to the ice cathedral outside. Where was she? Some sort of decontamination chamber?
Kate sat up. She could feel her fingers now, and she began fiddling with the clamps at her wrists. After some effort, the gloves came off, and she worked at the helmet. Ten minutes later, she was free of the suit and standing in the clothes she had left Gibraltar in. She surveyed the room. It was well lit, about forty feet wide, and probably twice as long. Behind her, she saw the enormous door she had entered through — it was much larger than the door at the other end. She walked deeper into the room, and the smaller door opened. She walked through it and lights popped to life at the ceiling and floor. Each light was faint, but taken together, they shed more than enough light on the gray iron corridor. They reminded her of the running beads of light in the floor of a limo.
She was standing in a giant T-intersection. Which way to go? Before she could decide, she heard something moving toward her. Footsteps.