Her pulse visibly jackhammered in her gaunt stomach, shuddering beneath her navel. Moving her hand from her chest to her belly, she pushed her fingertips against her flesh and down onto her aorta. She was fuckin’ disappointed that it didn’t beat out some sort of morse-code solution to her problem.
Then there was movement against her back. Ah. Right. Her. Dessie rolled her head back until it came into contact with a well muscled shoulder. “You know.” she lifted her hand into the air, studying the backs of her grimy and ragged nails. “If any of us had to be awake, somehow, I didn’t expect this combination.”