[The hotel hallway was real musty, and it looked like no one had bothered dusting in years. It made Clem think of her momma fussing at the maids, which was familiar in a way that was plenty soothing. The place wasn't much to look at, true enough, but there wasn't a door keeping her trapped in, and that was plenty. She'd tried to be real calm throughout things in Gotham, and she'd managed some at first. She kept it quiet, the panic that went bubbling when she and Amelia tried to get through the streets to the hospital, because it had first reminded her of zombies then. Folks all over, dying for no reason, and the whole world dark as night. No food, barely a lick of water, and the people that came into the ER were covered more and more with gore every damn day.
But she'd tried keeping it quiet. She'd known Graham was off working, and Shane was off doing something or another, and there wasn't any point in screaming in that antiseptic building where everyone was screaming. But that morning, some man had taken out another man's eye with a knife, and Clem was done for. Medicine had felt like some thrill when she was in Georgia, but now it was just the kind of thrilling she didn't want a thing to do with. If she never saw bleeding again, it would be too soon.
She was sitting outside the DC door, just like she'd said, white hospital scrubs splattered in blood, her hair pulled back and there hadn't been any washing it for a week.]