Julian knelt at the edge of the arrestor platform with his yellow China marker uncapped.
The thick wax core was worn down to a blunt bevel. He set the point against the damp concrete slab and drew a firm, unbroken circle around Bed 412.
The bright yellow line sizzled softly as it met the moisture on the stone.
“A continuous boundary,” Julian said, standing up. “A complete geometric circuit. As long as this circle remains unbroken, the biohazard perimeter holds.”
Devon stood behind the gurney’s chrome foot-rail, his boots planted firmly inside the wax perimeter. He held the heavy anodized aluminum backing plate of the White Nurse’s Chart with both hands.
“I have the board,” Devon said. “My hands are locked on the metal. The backing plate is chained directly to the frame.”
“And your time card is in your pocket,” Elena told him. “You are an active, clocked-in employee of St. Jude’s Municipal Hospital.”
“Under White Rule W-One, an employee behind the station anchor maintains the sanctuary.”
