At that moment the overhead lights flickered and died and the emergency lights clicked on, sending battery‑powered beams through the smoke.
"Christ, Ally," he declared gazing around still dazed as his consciousness seemed to be slowly returning. "We've got to get people out of here."
There didn't appear to be a sprinkler system. Probably, she thought, because an onslaught of water would wipe out all the computers.
Now she was thinking about the automatic air locks. How did those steel‑and‑glass doors work without electricity? Did they have a battery backup, or some kind of fail‑safe mechanism, which provided a manual override in case of a power outage?
Now Winston Bartlett was striding toward the center of the room. From the dazed look in his eyes, it wasn't clear whether he knew where he was or not. Kristen was walking toward him, on a collision course.
"You let this happen," she said "You wanted to ruin my life."
"Kristy, nobody made you do anything," he said choking from the smoke. "But now we've got to—"
"It's too late," she declared lashing out with the side of her hand against his neck. He staggered back, flailing, and seized an iron girder.
There was a blast of voltage, a shower of sparks, and he screamed as he crumpled sideways. Then the force of his fall broke his hand loose from the electrical short. He lay prostrate on the smoky floor of the lab, twitching.
My God, Ally thought, she really is determined to kill us all before she's through.