Someone moaned. Usually that was enough to cause the more nervous amongst them to get up and police the gym with flashlights blazing, making sure doors were closed and locked, windows intact; but tonight everyone was too tired.
The moan came again, haunting, pathetic. Mrs. Reese was dying, but not of the virus: her kidneys had shut down. Naomi, who had two years of nursing school, got up and went to the woman, whispering to her reassuringly. That was all she could do: had there been a dialysis machine handy, there would still have been no power to run it.
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