The medical unit had been designed to treat a dozen injured Adventurers, not the survivors of a city torn apart by an Infernal general. By the time the sky began to lighten, its beds were full, its storage cases were nearly empty, and the medics had started examining patients on the floor between the treatment platforms.
Adam stood near the entrance with a cup of coffee he had forgotten to drink. An ambulance arrived outside, followed by two more vehicles carrying civilians. He watched a pair of volunteers unload a man whose lower leg had been crushed beneath a concrete wall. His daughter gripped his jacket, asking whether he would live. The medics needed to examine him first.
Adam moved a supply case and held the door as the stretcher passed. The coffee had gone cold in his hand.
"You should sit down," Elesch said behind him.
"I did. About an hour ago."
"For three minutes, while you argued with a radio operator. That doesn't count."
