Page 10 of Resuscitation
That’s what had been nagging at Blake as he’d looked through Thomas’s fridge. The calendar on the front of the freezer door. He shot a look at Alyssa, and she waved for him to go on—they tried to only have one person asking questions so patients didn’t get overwhelmed or confused about who they should be answering.
“Thomas,” he asked in a gentle tone, “weren’t you scheduled for dialysis today?” Dialysis days meant he’d need a lower dose of insulin than usual—something the clinic took care of before bringing him home. Or should have.
Thomas caught Blake’s eye and nodded slowly. “They called, said cuz of the storm they had to cancel.”
Alyssa and Blake exchanged glances. “Okay, new plan,” Alyssa said. “Let me grab a quick I-stat, make sure your potassium isn’t sky high.” Blake moved to get the testing equipment for her. “Your EKG isn’t showing any peaked T-waves, and Dr. Sara would’ve called if she saw anything worrisome, so?—”
“If it’s okay, I can stay here?” Thomas asked hopefully.
Blake knew how much he hated being away from his home and Rose’s memories, even if just for a night. He also knew that even more than missing his home and routine, Thomas was frightened of dying surrounded by strangers in a strange place.
Deep down inside, despite the cold, hard fact that he could never risk the unpredictability and emotional gamble that came with starting a relationship, Blake realized he shared Thomas’s fear: that he was doomed to live and die alone.
ChapterFive
Five days ago…
Mercer inhaled deeply,savoring the crisp wintery air. After years of confinement, even the most mundane sensations felt like a luxury. He stood in a parking lot outside a nondescript bar on the outskirts of Newark, watching as Brick parked his car, a well-maintained old Charger. Brick exited the car, one hand fingering his freshly styled mohawk as he strolled to join Mercer.
“Gang’s on their way,” he said.
Mercer nodded approvingly. His old cellmate had proven himself a valuable ally inside and outside the prison walls. Those connections of Brick’s were going to be crucial for what lay ahead.
They entered. It was early enough in the day that they were the only customers other than a single, wobbling drunk perched at the bar. Mercer led Brick to a large booth in the farthest corner.
A few minutes later, the first of Brick’s crew arrived, a guy called Leon with shaven blond hair and an imposing frame that towered over them both. He gave Mercer a curt nod of appraisal before joining them.
“Good to see you, man,” Brick greeted him. To Mercer, he said, “Leon is ex-Marine, handy in a fight.”
After a few minutes, another man entered the bar with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Reporting for duty,” the man quipped with a South African accent. He slapped palms with Leon. “How’re you doing, dick job?”
“Mighty fine, asswipe.”
Brick introduced the South African. “This is Harper. Handy with electrical issues.”
“As well as weapons and any close combat situations,” Harper added.
Behind him entered a squirrelly young man, bouncing on his toes. “And least as well as last, is my technowiz, Marky Mark Evans,” Brick said.
The kid flinched. “Hey, I’m not last. Where’s Tyson?”
“Right here.” Tyson wheeled from the bar stool, suddenly very much sober. Smart, Mercer thought. Arriving early, checking the place. The Afro-Caribbean man exuded an air of quiet competence that Mercer found very reassuring.
With the team assembled, Mercer felt a surge of anticipation. These men were professionals, each bringing unique skills to the table. But there was still one piece missing: Connor.
Mercer threw down a gym bag filled with the last of his stashed cash. “The agreed upfront payment and expenses. We’ll be staging out of a hick town in upstate New York, Eastfork. Plan for minimum of three days—final recon and the job. So, we’ll need to find a place there where we can fly under the radar.”
Brick nodded, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he opened the bag and began divvying up the cash. “Already on it, boss. I’ll text you the address of the place I rented.”
“We’ll go over final plans tomorrow. Today, I’m headed out to pick up my brother.” Mercer checked his watch.
“Free at last, free at last!” Brick pumped his fist in the air, almost more excited than Mercer was that Connor was finally getting out.
“We’ll spend the night in Albany, meet you guys in Eastfork tomorrow.” Mercer stood, put his jacket on. “One thing before I go,” he said, his tone grave. “I’m the boss when it comes to this operation. Is that understood?”
The crew sitting around in the booth all nodded.
