I walked over to the far wall where I kept all my supplies. Being somewhat paranoid, I had made sure my bunker was supplied with anything I might need if I had to be down here for any length of time. Now I was glad I had.
I grabbed the first aid kit off the shelf and carried it back over to Abe. I set it on the small table next to the bed then started looking through the large kit. It didn't take me long to find the items I was looking for.
I pressed the gauze to Abe's head for a few minutes, trying to stem the flow of blood. I pulled the gauze away and tossed it into the trash can. Most of the bleeding had stopped, but Abe still had a rather large gash in his forehead. I don't know what they hit him with, but it had to have been something really hard. He was going to need stitches for sure.
I grabbed the small pen light out of the first aid kit then leaned over Abe as I gently cleaned the area around the wound. The light made it a little easier to see what I was doing, but I'd forgotten I'd been shot until several drops of blood fell off my arm and landed on Abe's forehead.
"Oh, crap." I grabbed some more gauze and finished cleaning Abe up, making sure I wasn't leaning over his open wound this time. Once it was all treated, I bandaged it as best as I could then cleaned up the mess I'd made, including packing the first aid kit up and putting it back on the shelf.
Only then did I see to myself. I was easy. It just took a simple shift for the bullet wound in my arm to heal up. I couldn't remember if Santos, the jungle shaman who'd accompanied us back from South America, had told us about that or if I figured it out on my own. I just knew shifting healed most injuries. My arm still ached a bit and would for a little while, but it was better than bleeding all over the place.
I grabbed the folded blanket from the bottom of the bed, shook it out, then spread it out over Abe, tucking it around his shoulders. The man really needed to go to a hospital, but that couldn't happen until I was positive there was no one waiting upstairs with guns. He was in no position to protect himself right now, and I doubted I could do it. I was better at sneaking and hiding than I was at self-defense.
After one last long look at Abe, I walked over to my computer. A simple tap of a few buttons on the keyboard brought up the video feed from upstairs on to the screen. I frowned when two of the screens remained blank. I leaned over my keyboard and tapped away to bring up the other cameras. I had a crap ton of them set up throughout my house and the street and alleyway.
Nope, not paranoid at all.
The cameras in the living room had all been disabled as had the ones in the kitchen and dining room. The camera directly in front of the house and the camera showing the alley were also disabled. My brain instantly engaged, and I remembered that the CD I'd given the cops had only shown those rooms, the alley, and the street directly in front of my house.
I knew there had to be a connection.
The rest of the cameras I had set up, however, were working just fine. I had a clear view of the upstairs, backyard, and farther down the street. Apparently, whoever had disabled my cameras didn't know about those or hadn't gotten around to disabling them yet.
I hit the speed setting and played back the last hour of video showing the front of the house just to see what I was dealing with. In less than five minutes, I knew that the men who'd broken into my house had come and gone.
I also knew that the one who jumped out the window had survived because he landed on top of a cargo van parked in front of the house next door. He'd simply climbed off the roof of the van and took off running down the street before climbing into a black sedan parked at the end of the street and driving away.
The two morons who'd shot me and hurt Abe had left my house right after the shooting stopped. They'd climbed into another dark sedan, this one parked at the other end of the street, and driven away.
Knowing I'd need the evidence, I made a copy of their arrival and departure and burned it to a disk. I wasn't taking any chances this time. I'd be installing hidden cameras just as soon as I had a moment where I didn't feel as if I was going insane.
I didn't think that time would come until Abe opened his eyes.
I jumped when the house phone rang. I usually used my cell phone, but I had dropped that back in the bedroom. I hesitated for a moment before reaching out and picking it up. "Hello?"
"Mr. Jenkins," a man with a deep voice said. "I believe we have a few things we need to discuss."
I frowned as I tried to place the voice. I know I'd heard it before, but where? I sucked in a sharp breath when it hit me. "Mr. Atkins."
"I knew you were perceptive, Mr. Jenkins, although it is unfortunate that you know who I am."
I didn't technically know who he was beyond his name and the fact that he ordered people's deaths as if he was ordering a cup of coffee. I just wasn't going to tell him that.
"I can't think of a thing that we have to discuss."
I pretty much never wanted to speak to the man.
I didn't want to be speaking to him now.
"That's not what your professor says," Atkins replied. "He seems to think we have quite a lot to discuss. Your grant, for example."
"My grant?" Considering I wasn't in my shifted form, I thought my growl was quite impressive. "What about my grant?"
"It would be a shame if your grant suddenly dried up. University funding can be such a tricky thing. One day it's there. The next day it's gone."
I tightened my grip on the phone. "If you want to take my grant money, then take it. I don't need you or anyone else to fund my research." I really didn't. I wasn't as rich as Andrew, but I was comfortable. "Just as long as I never have to speak to you again."
"Mr. Jenkins—"
