The hallway’s a slaughterhouse, the air thick with the reek of blood and drek. My stomach knots and threatens to spew, and my heart feels like it’s turned to ice. I want to be sick, I want to scream, but I can’t let myself. I clamp down the old control and turn off the emotions. Let the brain handle things, but don’t let the heart in on the party. Not yet. I can have my nervous reaction later. Icy, soulless now, I look around.