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Show 201 "Yeah. Then we collect our money." When the plate-glass window of "Pacific Biologies" suddenly shattered, crashing loudly into small pieces on the floor, the woman was not the only one to scream. But she was the only one who tried to sit up. Her movement forced the needle deep into her arm. She screamed again with the new abrupt pain. "Be careful," said the man on cot twenty-three, "lie back down. Don't move." She did not lay back down. She tore frantically at the plastic tubing and the adhesive tape which formed the "X" on her bleeding arm. The bottle of saline, above her head, swayed on its hook and with one of her furious tugs smashed to the floor. No one seemed to notice. The needle flew-sprang really-from her arm. Blood sprayed over her blouse and face. She got off the cot and stood uneasily on the floor. She did not reach for her shoes. She paid no attention to her blood. "Don't worry," said the man, removing the tape from his own arm and withdrawing the needle as quickly and as safely as he could. "Just hold on. It'll be all right, I'll help you." She was bleeding badly. Blood ran from her arm down to her hand and dripped from her fingers. She did not seem to notice. "I don't want your help," she said. Her voice was unbearably |
