The cold vacuum tore at Elena Rostova’s eyelashes like an open gale.
Three inches from her face, the heavy black rubber bell of the extraction nozzle vibrated with furious negative pressure. The negative eighteen pounds per square inch of suction pulled the skin across her cheekbones and bridge of her nose so tight her vision blurred at the edges.
Inside her mouth, her salivary glands flooded with the sharp, metallic taste of raw copper pennies.
Beside her, Clara gasped, her hands flying to her temples. The three nozzles targeted on Clara dipped half an inch lower. Their circular rubber skirts trembled as internal steel resection needles rotated like a miniature surgical lathe.
“Don’t pull back!” Elena shouted, her voice cutting through the roar of rushing air.
Her right arm shot out, wrapping tight around nineteen-year-old Clara’s waist. With a surge of triage adrenaline, Elena yanked Clara firmly behind her own right shoulder, using her body as a human shield against the descending bells.
“Elena, my boots!” Clara cried out, her heels digging into the floor.
“Plant them, Clara!” Elena barked. “Heels flat!”
