Chapter 7 - The Emergency C-Section
"Clara, look at me. Stay awake!" Mark shouted, applying direct pressure with sterile pads. His mind raced through the pathology: placental abruption. The trauma from the fall or the smoke had detached the placenta. Both mother and child were suffocating from the inside out.
There were no doctors. No operating room. No blood transfusions. If he waited for another rescue team that might never come, both of them would be dead within ten minutes.
"You have to cut," Clara whispered, her eyes meeting his with terrifying clarity through the delirium of shock. She reached up with a bloodied hand and touched his cheek. "Save our daughter, Mark. Don't let her die up here."
"I can't lose you, Clara," Mark choked out, tears finally breaking through the layer of soot on his face.
"You won't," she breathed, her pulse fluttering weaker under his fingers. "Save her. Please."
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Sterling crept closer, his eyes wide with horror. "You can't do surgery out here! You'll kill them both!"
Mark ignored him. He drew his sterile surgical blade from the field kit, soaked it in iodine, and pressed his fingers against Clara’s lower abdomen to map the incision line. Just as the blade touched skin, a massive vibration shook the entire roof—the elevator cables inside the central core had snapped, and the roof beneath their feet began to tilt downward.
