...It was possible that he was correct. Speaking of others' deaths seemed far too random, and in such a way that it seemed doubtful. She nodded, accepted Byrne's excuse, and seemed content to think nothing more of it.

Perhaps that was why--that her mind had emptied out of thought, and she was instead in a state of bland openness. Her attention went to her body, cataloging its state, and she placed that function aside, because she knew well that nothing had happened--

Her eyes, caught the shade, what could be a shadow in the gloom. Still, it caught her attention, enough for her to move the flashlight to her hand and let the light touch her skin.

Red. The flesh there was red. She stared, blankly wondering, and moved to run fingertips over the skin.