With Chen Shi off his hands, Bryan felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
He glanced around idly and happened to notice the university hospital adjacent to the school campus. A certain figure flashed through his mind—slender, lovely—and a smile tugged at his lips. He changed course and headed that way.
Emory University Hospital.
Situated in the heart of District G, it was one of the most critical facilities in the entire QZ. Teams of medical staff worked around the clock, treating countless specialized personnel and soldiers. Even some senior government officials' parents were permanently housed here for long-term care.
Since the QZ had abandoned its Cordyceps vaccine research, the specialists and precision instruments from the medical school had all been relocated here, folded entirely into the hospital's operations.
Consequently, the surrounding blocks were cleared and patrolled by soldiers twenty-four hours a day. Security was airtight—the QZ couldn't afford anything happening to the talent or the officials' family members inside.
When Bryan entered the hospital's main lobby, he found the usual sparse crowd—a few doctors making rounds, nurses moving through corridors, and a handful of patients waiting for treatment.
Nothing unusual. It was nearly noon, for one thing, and just like every other clinic in the QZ, ordinary civilians could no longer afford to come here. Anyone sitting in this waiting area had connections of some kind.
Bryan checked the time. Lunch break would be soon. Rather than go searching for someone, he sat down in the waiting area and settled in to wait.
His eyes kept flicking between his watch and the hospital's two elevators. One was for medical staff only; the other was the large service elevator that could fit a hospital bed. Both went directly to the upper floors and were closed to regular patients—two soldiers stood guard at each one, barring unauthorized access. Patients were limited to the first two floors, with stairwell access to the upper levels locked behind heavy iron doors, also guarded.
Medical personnel came and went from the staff elevator, but the figure he was waiting for never appeared.
Strange. It was nearly twelve-thirty. Bryan frowned slightly, his gaze still fixed on the elevators.
His prolonged, purposeless lingering apparently raised a flag. A patrolling soldier approached and stopped beside him.
"Excuse me, sir. May I see your identification?"
Bryan blinked, turning to find an armed soldier eyeing him warily. He realized how suspicious his behavior must have looked, smacked his own forehead, and stood up with an easy smile. He fished out his military ID and explained why he was there.
The soldier relaxed upon seeing the military seal, rattled off a list of security reminders, and moved on.
No sooner had Bryan returned to his seat than the elevator doors opened, and a familiar figure stepped out.
He started to rise, ready to call out—then froze.
Something was wrong.
Unlike the bright, cheerful Sarah he'd parted with days ago, the girl before him now walked with her head down, completely oblivious to the people around her. She moved forward mechanically, clearly lost in her own troubled thoughts.
Concern washed over Bryan. He got to his feet slowly and walked toward her. "Sarah."
She flinched at the sound. Her head lifted slightly, eyes scanning left and right—but she didn't see him. Assuming she'd imagined it, a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, and she kept walking.
"Sarah!"
At the second call, she stopped dead. Her head came all the way up, and she spun around, searching. She'd heard it clearly this time—she hadn't imagined it.
Her eyes swept the lobby until they found the figure walking toward her. She stared for a frozen moment, emotion flooding her face, then broke into a run.
"Hey—easy!"
He caught her in his arms as she threw herself at him. They held each other tightly, Bryan's hand gently stroking her long hair. "Take it easy," he murmured, his voice impossibly tender.
Sarah's arms locked around his waist. She pressed herself against his broad chest and wouldn't let go. The worry and sadness of the past few days dissolved in an instant, replaced by a feeling of safety she'd desperately needed.
They stood there in the hospital lobby, holding each other for a long time. It wasn't an unusual sight in times like these, but it still drew curious glances from passersby. Some of the nurses on their lunch break recognized Sarah and began whispering among themselves.
As the stares multiplied, Bryan cleared his throat. He didn't particularly care, but being watched like a zoo exhibit wasn't exactly comfortable. He patted Sarah's back gently and leaned close to her ear. "I think we've given them enough of a show. Unless you want to stand here all day?"
Sarah, who'd been quietly savoring the moment, looked up and noticed the audience. A pink flush crept across her cheeks. She pulled away from the embrace, took Bryan's hand, and led him toward the exit.
Outside the hospital, they found a small park nearby—the closest green space, preserved by the QZ government for patients and medical staff who needed fresh air. You couldn't keep people cooped up inside a hospital twenty-four hours a day; sometimes they needed room to breathe.
Bryan found a bench and sat down. It was a little dusty, but after years of crawling through the wasteland, he wasn't about to complain.
He patted the spot beside him for Sarah to sit, then caught her warning look and realized—she was wearing her white coat. He scratched his head sheepishly, thought for a moment, then extended his leg and gestured toward his lap with exaggerated sincerity.
Sarah pressed her lips together to stifle a laugh, then sat sideways on his lap without a shred of hesitation. Her arms looped around his neck, her head settling against him naturally.
Bryan wrapped his arm around her slender waist. Despite the apparent improvement in her mood, he could sense it was only surface-deep. He hesitated, then asked softly, "If something's bothering you, maybe tell me about it?"
Sarah's body tensed instantly. She knew he'd noticed her state when she'd come out of the hospital. A quiet sigh escaped her, and she decided not to hide it—she needed someone to talk to.
She raised her eyes toward the hospital entrance, as if searching through memories. "Bryan... do you know why I decided to become a doctor?"
He didn't push. "Why?"
Honestly, when Sarah had first told him she wanted to study medicine, he'd been surprised. The profession was invaluable in the apocalypse, so he hadn't interfered—but he'd never asked the reason, either.
"Because of Sylvia..."
Sarah lowered her gaze to meet his, her expression raw. "I watched her die right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything. I hated myself so much—hated how powerless I was. That's why I chose to become a doctor. I can't stand that feeling of helplessness."
Drip. Drip.
As she spoke, tears began falling without warning, trailing silently down her cheeks and landing on Bryan's hand. Her face crumpled with grief she could no longer contain.
"But after I actually became a doctor... that feeling only got worse. I watch them get carried in one after another, and then I'm the one pulling the sheet over their faces. I'm the one who has to look at their families and... tell them they're gone. I can't save them... I can't..."
Her voice broke into quiet sobs. Bryan's chest ached. He didn't know what to say, so he simply held her tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles on her back—the same way he'd comforted her when they were children.
...
Get 20+ chapters ahead on - P.a.t.r.e.o.n "RoseWhisky"