He stared for a moment, gut tightening.Could it be…Her?
Taryn?
Nah.
He shook it off.
Turning from the window, Finn moved to where his laptop sat open, among his maps, and manila folders with scrawled notes.On the floor his open duffel bag held more rolls of maps and files.
A plan was forming.One he hoped to execute at first light, when he was calling a meeting with the squad.
They’d strike the quarry.
But he couldn’t leave Brodie yet.He’d made a promise to watch over the kid, to keep him safe.And Finn needed to be here when the boy woke up.
He glanced back at the bed.
Brodie shifted with a rustle of sheets.A breath hitching, shallow and uncertain, then came the confused panic.
Finn was beside him in seconds.‘You’re alright, mate.You’re safe.’
Brodie blinked blearily with his brow furrowed.‘Lydia?’
‘Still fighting,’ Finn said gently.‘Same as you.’
The kid’s eyes darted around the room like he wasn’t sure if any of it was real.
Finn pushed open the door, and hollered into the corridor,‘Oi!He’s awake in here!’
A nurse called back, ‘Be there in a sec!’
Finn returned to Brodie’s bedside.‘You need water?’
Brodie gave a slow, shaky nod as he tried to sit up, only to wince, as if remembering he’d hurt his shoulder.
‘Whoa up there, mate.These things come loaded.’Finn hit the button to raise the mechanical bed.He wasn’t about to fluff any pillows, but he’d make sure the kid didn’t fall out of bed.
Finn reached for the cup and straw sitting on the ledge.He held it steady while Brodie drank, like he hadn’t had a drop of water in days.
‘There we go,’ Finn murmured.‘Doc will be here soon.’He then leaned in and whispered, ‘I’ll smuggle in a stash of iced coffees and lollies later.’
That earned him the faintest flicker of a smile as the kid sagged back against the pillows, jaw clenched like he was fighting the pain.
He then checked out the room, which held nothing, not even a TV, not that they got television reception out here.The frown forming across his deeply tanned forehead said it all.Being stuck staring at four walls was going to drive a kid like Brodie nuts.
Finn reached into the duffel bag and pulled out the puzzle book that was dog-eared and sun-faded, like it had been through a dozen dry seasons.‘I found this shoved in the bottom of my bag.Forgot it was there, to be honest.Figured it’d help, as it kept me sane when I was stuck in hospital once—well, as sane as I can get.’
Brodie lifted his chin with curiosity.Hopefully, it’d take his mind off his worries for a moment or two.And the boy was also learning to read and write, so it wouldn’t hurt to do something fun with letters.
‘I was your age when I copped a horn to the ribs on a muster.Thought I’d go mad staring at the ceiling.’He hesitated, surprised at how it had caught him off guard, even after all this time, when he mentioned the name, ‘Drew was the town’s cop where I was, and he dropped off a book just like this.Said it was good for the brain.Strategic thinking, pattern recognition, that kind of thing.’
Finn cleared his throat.‘Didn’t believe him, of course.Thought he was just trying to keep me quiet.But it turned out, he wasn’t wrong.’
He flipped to one of the half-finished pages and ran a finger along the jagged trail of circled letters.‘You start seeing how things link.Words hidden backwards, sideways, diagonal.Patterns you’d miss if you weren’t looking.And once you get the hang of it, I reckon your brain stops feeling like a busted fence post for a bit.’
Brodie gave him a sidelong glance as if Finn was some ancient dinosaur, handing a teenager a paper and pen, when they were all about handheld phones and video games.
But Brodie wasn’t your ordinary teenager.
