Skye woke up confused. Not that this was new—while working for the Rising Tide, she'd driven across the country till she could barely remember what town she was in, let alone state.
Right, then, see what's outside. That would at least narrow things down.
No windows. She glanced around the room. White. Absolutely, completely, clinical white, with a glass wall on one side leading to a lab. Monitors flickered and beeped at her—no, with her, keeping time with her breathing and heartbeat.
A hospital? Then why the lab? Something else hummed, faint but steady under the whining medical equipment.
The Bus. She's on the Bus.
Every limb ached, a dull, throbbing foreshadowing. "Guys? You there? Fitz? Simmons? Anybody?" It was so bright. Her eyes squeezed shut.