The guards were shouting, and one of them ducked back into the shack. I heard alarms sounding, and thudding boots. Nobody touched me, so I slowly flipped myself over on my side. My head was pounding, I was too dizzy to sit up, and, with a sudden spasm, I threw up. Mostly the water that Id been drinking, but disgustingly convincing that I wasnt faking anything. The swelling on my arm was bad, and getting worse.

They patted me down for explosives, yelled for medical assistance, and finally, one of them leaned down and barked, Name!

Jo, I whispered. Joanne Baldwin. Security clearance. Checkcheck withmilitary. I wasnt lying. Wardens had security clearances. Mine was as good as his, Id be willing to bet. I hadnt endured all those questions and poking around in my personal life to fail to cash in my chips now. Rattlesnake.

I can see that, he said. Some of the ferocity left his voice. Stay still. Helps on the way.

The other man, I was sure, would be running my name back through channels. That was fine. I was fairly sure that nobody would turn away the help of a Warden, even an injured one, at a sensitive installationnot in times like these. Hell, I was security.

I felt filthy, doing it, but they were making their own logical assumptions. I wasnt lying to them, not one bit. I lay there on the pavement, retching helplessly, feeling miserable and in severe pain, but David had done as I askedI wasnt getting worse. Not yet, anyway.

There were conversations, hurried and clipped ones, with people who I assumed were higher up in the organization. Phones were used. Pictures were taken. A medical team arrived with a gurney, evaluated me, not surprisingly came up with a diagnosis of snakebite and some kind of animal attack, and loaded me up with a pile of hospital-approved blankets on top.

The gates parted, and I was wheeled inside the compound, past neatly lettered signs that warned of criminal prosecution to the fullest extent of the law for any violations of security protocols. More guards accompanied the medical team. I supposed I would have been handcuffed to the gurney, except for the snakebite, which made that impossible.

The first building we came to was obviously some kind of administration complexbig, blocky, heavily secure. Lots of locks, key cards, biometric scans just to get me into a hallway. A security officer was there, and he clipped a badge on my shirt, neon red, that proclaimed I was a supervised visitor. I didnt feel like a visitor. I felt like a prisoner. It probably had tracking devices built in, so I could be found and caught in seconds if I managed to totter up off the bed.

I didnt think I was going to bump the terror alert level any, given how I felt right now.

A doctor took over, clearly the Head Medical Cheese, and he did some unsympathetic probing of the snakebite wound. Its genuine, he said to a guard standing next to him. Probably a stage four bite. Shes very sick, and she needs antivenin urgently. He bent over to look into my pale, sweating face. Whats your name?

Joanne Baldwin.

Howd you get here, Joanne?

I was walking, I said. Snake bit me. Car picked me up but he dropped me here.

All completely true. The doctor frowned, clearly not thinking much of someone whod dump me and drive away, but he shook it off. Looks like a prairie rattler bite, he said. Lets get some CroFab in her, stat.

In a gratifyingly short timealthough every heartbeat felt like it lasted a year, thanks to the unbelievable and escalating paina nurse hustled back in with a vial and a hypodermic. He checked the labelthorough, I liked that in a doctorand filled the hypo with the straw-colored liquid. I hadnt really noticed, but someone had already put in a central lineand they must have been good at it, because I didnt like IVs, not at all. The doctor added the antivenin to the flow, then reached for another vial. There were six on the table. I wondered if that was some kind of a record.

Okay, this is going to take about an hour to get into your system, the doctor said, after emptying the last vial. If you start having trouble breathing, let us know immediately. Anaphylaxis is a possibility with this antivenin, but it isnt common. Youre not allergic to sheep, are you?

I gave him a blank look. Sheep? Really?

Really.

How the hell would I know?

Good point, he said, and grinned. Lie back and relax. Keep your heart rate down. I know its miserable, but the antivenin will help, trust me. Im going to take a look at the bite on your leg.

In the great scheme of things, Id almost forgotten the coyote bite; truthfully, it hardly registered, on the scale of Ow That Hurts right now. But when he started probing the wound, I found myself gasping and guarding, and he shook his head. Lets irrigate, get some antibiotics on board, and Ill need to lay in some stitches. You are some lucky girl.

Id have given him the finger if Id felt up to it.

Someone arrived and handed him a packet of notes, which he speed-read, and as the nurse worked on cleaning the bite, he leaned casually on the gurney and flipped pages. I wasnt fooled.

So, he said. Youre a Warden.

Yes.

Not an Earth Warden?

This was the tricky part, because I was going to have to lie to answer, or explain more than I wanted. Earth Wardens cant heal themselves, I said. Not easily. Its a drawback.

He nodded. So it is. Is it as bad out there as weve heard? Storms, fires, earthquakes? Some people are calling it the end of the world.

Its not, I said. But it could be the end of us.

That sobered him up. He closed the file and tucked it under his arm, looking down at me. Doctors always looked similar to me; there was some kind of posture they had, upright and ever so slightly arrogant, but with good reason. This particular doctors name badge read REID, HOWARD. He didnt look like a Howard to me; he had thick dark hair, a long, thin nose, and smile lines around his mouth. An angular, mobile kind of face. Eyes of indeterminate color, maybe a dark blue. Not kind, though. Assessing and guarded.

Is that your professional opinion? he asked. Since thats your job, isnt it?

Yes, I said.

How serious is it?

I wouldnt go buying any long-term investments. I coughed, because talking was making me feel sick again. A nurse got me water and a sippy straw.

Dr. Reid stared at me for a few long seconds, and whatever calculations were going on, I couldnt follow them.

I shut my eyes as he got around to the stitches.

Dr. Reid wasnt the only person on the base who knew what a Warden was; I could tell from the steady stream of gawkers who found a reason to drop into the infirmary over the next hour. Among them was a tall man wearing casual clothes but with a straight-up military bearing. No rank visible on the badges, but I was willing to bet, from the way people gave him room, that this man was high up.

Hello, he said to me immediately, with the assurance of somebody who doesnt often meet equals, much less superiors. How are you feeling?

I wasnt feeling well at all, and was starting to think that this snakebite ploy was a Very Bad Idea, but I forced a smile. Ill live, I said, and cleared my throat. Joanne Baldwin.

He nodded. I had you checked out. Roland Miles. Im the director of the plant. I had to give special authorization to get you inside the gates. By the look he gave me, Id better humbly appreciate the sacrifice. Oh, and I did. Really. Ive given instructions that youre not to leave this bed for any reason, and that as soon as youre stable, youre going in an ambulance to a hospital.

Im a prisoner.

If you were a prisoner, youd be handcuffed to the rail, he pointed out pleasantly. Were just taking all necessary precautions for your health.

Including not letting me out of bed. What if I have to go to the bathroom?