“Are you the same blood type, young lady?” The doctor continues his work. The bleeding lessens as he pulls the skin together.
“Are you?” The doctor repeats his question.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s get him up to sick bay.”
What will Leif do? He can’t exactly keep me hidden in sick bay.
He doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll take him.” Once again, he hoists me over his shoulder like a sack of floor. As he passes Craven, he says, “You’re fired. Get your things and get off the boat.”
“You can’t do that. Half the men on this rig are loyal to me.”
“Feel free to take them with you.” He shoves by Craven and Craven thumps against the wall.
“This is your fault, freak.”
“You jerk. If you are responsible and my brother dies, I will find you and you will regret it.” Amy’s voice is low and flat.
Surprise ripples in colorful waves around me. I’m stunned. Amy doesn’t have a violent bone in her body.
“I’m worried,” Craven sneers.
“You should be,” she snarls.
“Come on, little wild cat.” Leif’s voice is indulgent. He loves brash and brave. He has no patience for cowards.
I float above my body as we hurry down the hall, up the stairs and down another hall.
“Get back to work,” Leif snaps at gawkers. He pushes through the door into sick bay, heads for the back, and dumps me on a bed.
“Lie down on the other bed,” the doctor directs Amy. He washes her arm and gets an IV ready.
There are two other patients. Leif pulls the curtains shut around us. I’m so tired. Even from the ceiling, I’m having problems keeping my eyes open. I feel the prick of the needle. This is it. Will Amy’s blood kill me or cure me?
I’m exhausted. I just want peace. I no longer try to fight off unconsciousness, but welcome it. Something thick and potent enters my veins. My last thought is of a child’s prayer my mother taught me before she passed. If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord, my soul to take…
Chapter 5
I wake weak as a newborn kitten. Leif is bending over me. “What the hell happened?”
I look at him, confused. Memory snaps back. The men on the boat waiting for me. Craven trying to kill me. Amy’s blood must have been compatible. I’m still alive. “I’m not sure.” This could be tricky. I have no proof that Craven set those men on me, just a gut feeling. But who else could it be? Stranger? Maybe. I lift my arm to scratch my jaw. It takes too much effort. My arm drops back to my side.
“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”
“Mr. Voorhees,” the doctor protests. “He’s not strong enough to be interrogated.”
Leif motions him back.
“The oil was coming from another boat. When I went on board to talk to them, they pulled a gun on me, several guns.”
Leif jerks. His eyes widen. “Do you know why? Did you walk into a drug deal? Punks fooling around? What?”
“They knew me, Leif.”
“How could they?” He leans forward into my space. “Who do you think is responsible for this?”
I don’t say anything. What can I say without proof?
He swears low and fluently before he asks, “Did you get the boat’s decal number?”
I shake my head.
“Doesn’t matter. They’d be gone by now. Don’t worry, kid, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” He turns to the rig’s doctor, who’s hovering anxiously nearby.
I wonder what he thinks of all this.
“Doc, would you excuse us for a minute.”
“Don’t overdo it, Mr. Voorhees. He lost a lot of blood.” With that parting shot, he leaves, casting a speculative look over his shoulder.
“We took a gamble and gave you a transfusion with Amy’s blood. Figured it would either kill you or cure you. Looks like you survived.”
“It was a good call.” My eyelids are heavy. I’m about to drift off again. “How long have I been out?”
“Three days.”
Three days. I can’t afford three days. “I have to get up.” But even as I say the words, darkness engulfs me.
* * * *
The next time I wake, I’m myself again. I pull myself up in bed as the doctor steps in, smiling. “How do you feel?”
“Much better. Thanks.” My stomach rumbles.
The doctor grins. “I’ll have some food sent up.” He checks my vitals. “You’re doing great. We gave you a second transfusion. Mr. Voorhees told me you had a rare blood disease. I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it there for a while, but your sister’s blood seems to have done the trick. She donated several pints.”
“Is she alright?”
“She just needs to rest and build her strength back up.” He clears his throat. His voice becomes guarded. “He wouldn’t even let me do a compatibility match. Or check to see what type she is. All hush-hush. ‘National security’ is what he said.”
For a moment, my mind goes blank. I rub my fingers against the sheets seeking inspiration. All I can think to say is, “You know Ziccon. Everything is hush-hush.”
“Yeah, I guess the more money you make, the more paranoid you become.”
“I guess so.”
“I’ll send you something to eat.” He takes one last look at the chart then hangs it at the foot of the bed.
Minutes later, Leif walks in.
“Looks like you’re going to live,” he observes.
“Planning on it. Any news on the boat?”
“No.” He scowls.
“What about Craven?”
“He’s outta here.”
“And his friends?”
“No one’s going to buck me.”
“Not unless he’s psychotic.” The problem is Craven’s crazy and so are his associates.
“Listen, I’m going to send you and Amy back to Houston to recuperate. Ziccon has an apartment complex. You can rest there.”
Will it help or hurt our chances of getting away? I do a quick assessment. It’s going to help. If we can’t find the parts, I’ll steal a couple of jammers then we’ll disappear.
“And if someone sees us?”
“I trust you’ll be resting in the apartment,” he says dryly, “but if someone does see you, you’ll just be guests of the company.” He grins. “My niece and nephew. Though you’re awfully scrawny to have Nordic blood in your veins.”
I snort.
“Be up top in five. I’ll take you. I have business at the head office anyway.”
“Where’s Amy? In her room?”
“She was packing your bag then heading up top. I’ll give you ten.” His glance slides over me. “Not sure you could make it in five after all.”
“I can