glass doors that led outside.
On the other side of the glass the darkness was cross-cut with the cherry-red pulse of police lights. White lights, too, refracting in starbursts.
Chip said, 'What's going on?'
Without turning her head, a nurse nearby said, 'Someone got attacked.
In the parking lot.'
Attacked? By whom?'
The nurse looked at him, saw he was a civilian and moved away.
I looked around for a familiar face. None. Too many years.
A pale, thin orderly with short platinum hair and a white Fu Manchu said, 'Enough, already,' in a nasal voice. All I want to do is go home.'
Someone groaned a chorus.
Unintelligible whispers passed through the lobby. I saw a uniform on the other side of the glass, blocking the door. A burst of radio talk leaked through from the outside. Lots of movement. A vehicle swung its lights toward the glass, then turned away and sped off. I read a flash of letters: AMBULANCE. But no blinkers or siren.
'Whyn't they just bring her in here?' said someone.
'Who says it's a her?'
A woman said, 'It's always a her.'
'Dinja hear? No howler,' someone answered. 'Probably not an emergency.'
'Or maybe,' said the blond man, 'it's too late.'
The crowd rippled like gel in a petri dish.
Someone said, 'I tried to get out the back way but they had it blocked.
I'm like, this sucks.'
'I think I heard one of them say it was a doctor.'
'Who?'
'That's all I heard.'
Buzz. Whisper.
Chip said, 'Wonderful.' Turning abruptly, he began pushing his way toward the rear of the crowd, back into the hospital. Before I could say anything, he was gone.
Five minutes later, the glass door opened and the crowd surged forward.
Sergeant Perkins slipped through and held out a tan palm. He looked like a substitute teacher before an unruly high school class.
'Can I have your attention for a moment?' He waited for silence, finally settled for relative quiet. An assault's occurred in your parking lot. We need you to file out one by one and answer some questions.'
'What kind of assault?
'Is he okay?'
'Who was it?'
'Was it a doctor?'
