“Brilliant, Fiona,” Everett shouts. “She wants to drop the tracker down a sewer line. We just need to find one that won’t lead them back to our people…give me a second. I’m pulling up the schematics now…Not that one…That won’t work…Jackpot. Feeding you new coordinates. You’re probably going to need a pry bar to gain access. It’s in the middle of the street.”
“Subtle. Really subtle.”
“Like you could do any better, old man.”
I reach up and try to feel my stitches. Pain shoots through my head, making me dizzy. Push through. They might have busted open. Then, all you need to do is pry the tracker out.
“Has anyone told Max he’s going to have to cut his girlfriend’s head open to make this plan of his work?” Vex asks.
“We need another plan,” Max snaps.
No one speaks.
“There isn’t time. Give me a knife. I can do it.” Hopefully, without impaling my head too much.
“Make sure Mom is waiting for our arrival.”
“She’s already there waiting with Barb and all the other doctors who work on The Street.” Maddox answers. “Barb will be faster. That woman is a beast when it comes to stitches.”
“Fine.” The car jerks to a stop, and Max shrugs off his jacket and then tugs off his shirt.
What’s going on? I mean, I know on the television they always find a reason for the guy with a nice chest to take his shirt off, but really, now isn’t the time.
“Hold this to the side of your head. There’s going to be a lot of blood.” Max hands me his t-shirt.
Well, that’s a better reason than I thought. I lean forward, bending my head down.
With just the overhead light and a pocketknife, Max is going to perform surgery on me.
I grab onto his thigh and squeeze.
“Remember, time is of the essence. You don’t need to make it pretty.” Ethan reminds us.
“Just do it. I can handle it.”
Max hesitates for one second.
Then, a sharp, blinding pain tears apart my head. This was a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
But probably not my worst of the night…we’ll give that prize to the cobra.
“Almost got it. Just one more second.”
That second feels like a million heartbeats later.
“It’s out. Cover the wound. I’ll be right back.” He pops out of the SUV, running to the trunk to grab one of those weird tools you use to change a tire…at least I think that’s what it does.
Warm blood flows through my fingers…I press the t-shirt harder…
This might have been worse…The world goes black.
Hovering Man
Fiona
“You don’t need to carry me inside.”
