The Courier (San Angeles) (26 page)

I
LEANED ON THE
horn for about the fifth time, using all the swear words I knew. Every car ever made must have been on the road, and they were all driving in fucking reverse.

“Get the hell out of my way!”

The yelling didn’t help the cars move, but it made me feel a bit better.

A blue compact cut in front of me and slowed down. I jerked the wheel, trying to fit my car into the spot left by the blue one. The sound of squealing tires and honking horns came through the open window. They weren’t mine, this time. I accelerated and swerved back in front of the blue compact. Idiot.

I could see the light beige walls of the hospital ahead, a red cross tacked to the side of one of its various buildings. I cruised past most of it without seeing an entrance to the emergency room.

Where the fuck was it? The hospital itself must have covered at least five square blocks. It was really just a bunch of buildings connected to each other through walkways, or built right up against each other. I swerved down a street that cut between the buildings. The next sign I saw was for Columbia University. Fucking great. I spun around the drop-off circle by the front doors and headed back out the way I came. Miller groaned in the seat beside me.

Why the hell did they have to hide these things anyway? There should be huge signs pointing the way to the emergency room. What, they didn’t want people to show up?

An ambulance sped past me on the crossroads ahead, its lights flashing and siren wailing. It turned down the next drive and cut its sirens.

That had to be it.

I pulled out onto the street, oblivious to any cars that may have been coming, and followed the ambulance to the large doors. With a look at Miller, I got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

“Hey, this is the ambulance drop-off lady, you can’t be here.” It was some skinny shithead in an oversized security uniform.

“I’ve got a guy hurt in here.”

“You’ll have to take him around the building, to the normal entrance.” The skinny fucker started to put out a hand, trying to stop me from opening the passenger door. I slapped his arm away and pulled the door open. Miller fell to the ground. The bandage I had put on earlier had soaked through and his pants were covered in blood. Oh Christ, how much more could he lose? There was so much of it.

The security guard blanched and stood stunned.

“Don’t just stand there, moron, help me get him in.” I had my hands under Miller’s arms and was trying to drag him to the doors. Every pull seemed to pump more blood from the wound, and my hand slipped in it. I should have picked a closer hospital.

“I’ll . . . I’ll go get a doctor.”

“No, help me carry him.” But it was too late. The security guard had turned as fast as he could and run back to the doors. He had disappeared into them before I could take two steps.

He came out a second later. Two doctors rushed past the gurney being rolled into the hospital from the ambulance, ran past the guard and reached us. When they saw the blood, they paused long enough to pull on latex gloves.

“Lay him down, let us look at him. What happened?”

I collapsed to the road and laid Miller’s head in my lap. “He was shot.”

One of the doctors gently wiped Miller’s shoulder and pried away my makeshift bandage. Without looking up, he said, “He’s lost a lot of blood, we need to get him in right away. Prep surgery room two.” He looked up at the security guard hovering over them. “Go get a gurney and tell them to prep Surgery Two. Now!”

By the time the gurney came, Miller’s hands had gone cold. I helped the doctors lift him up while the security guard just stood and watched. As I followed back to the entrance, he grabbed at my shoulder.

“You’re gonna have to move the car, lady.”

Without missing a step, I twisted free from his grip and yelled back. “The keys are in it, move it yourself!” I followed Miller into the hospital.

The doctors wheeled him into a small operating room, smaller than the one I’d seen at the office. The walls were tiled in a light green, and the white floor looked clean enough to eat off of. Three displays hung from the ceiling around the table and came to life when Miller was moved onto it.

One of the doctors looked over my shoulder. “Get her out of here.”

I felt a hand touch my elbow and I jerked it away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The nurse stepped in front of me. She was small, maybe a bit shorter than me even, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Eyes that practically leaked with compassion.

“We have to go and let the doctors get to work,” she said.

The nurse took a step closer and I stepped back, increasing the space between us.

“That’s right, we can wait out here.” The nurse took another step closer.

This time I didn’t back up. The nurse put her arm around my waist and turned me around. I let her lead me back into the hallway.

“Come on. Can I get you some water?”

I looked over her shoulder and watched the doors to the operating room close. Just before they shut, I saw Miller on the operating table, a needle pushed into his arm. Tubes carried various liquids from hanging bags down to the needle. A mask had been placed over his face.

“The waiting room is right through here.”

I walked numbly beside the nurse. It was just a shoulder wound, it couldn’t be that bad.

“Will he be all right?”

“Let the doctors look at him first. We’ll let you know what happens.”

The nurse maneuvered me into a chair and forced a paper cup of water into my hands.

“Drink it, you’ll feel better.”

My body went cold and the cup shook in my hand. I took a sip of the ice water, like a puppet obeying her master, and waited.

I didn’t know what was up and what was down, wrong from right, day from night. The last three days had become a giant smear.
I had gone from being a courier barely scraping out a living to being the most wanted person in the city. Or so it seemed. And all over a package I didn’t even have anymore. The only constant I could find, the only thing that had kept me alive and sane, the only thing that mattered, was Miller. He had to make it. It was all my fault.

Chances were, by this time tomorrow, the power source on my black box would be dead, and I would be vulnerable again. Easily tracked through the multitude of sensors laid throughout San Angeles. What would happen if I was still on Level 6 when the tracker kicked in again? Would there be alarms and a mad rush of police to put me back into my rightful place, amid the scum of the city?

Whatever happened, I wasn’t prepared to do it alone any more. Three days ago I would have told the world I was ready to handle anything, handle it on my own with no outside help. Now, reality had smacked me right in the face, and I knew how unprepared I really was. Sure, I could function in my own small corner, pretending everything was in my control. But now the world had flipped over and forced me to face the facts. I was just a stupid sixteen-year-old girl. Scared and lost and alone. I wanted Miller back. He had to make it.

My only connection to reality, my only chance at life, lay on a table in a cold operating room, and I had no idea if he would die or not.

There was so much blood, so much . . .

I felt a hand on my shoulder, a gentle shake pulling me from my sleep. I had no idea when I had drifted off. I had just been sitting here, waiting. How much time had passed? Looking out the double
doors, I thought the Ambients might have dimmed a bit. It must have been a couple of hours at least.

“Kris? Are you Kris?”

The same nurse that had led me out of the operating room earlier stood beside me, a gentle smile on her face.

“Yeah, yes, that’s me.”

“Your friend is out of the operating room and waking up. He’s in the hallway, asking for you. I shouldn’t let you see him until the police come, but”—she glanced over her shoulder at the entrance doors—“a short visit should be okay.”

“Thanks.” My brain felt fuzzy. It was tough to put all my thoughts together. Miller’s image rose to the surface.

The nurse turned and walked away before I was fully awake. I stood and hurried after her, through more swinging doors into a long hallway. It was tough keeping up. My legs were still numb from slouching on the hard plastic chairs, and I couldn’t feel my butt at all. The nurse walked past a bed, one of many lined against the walls of the corridor, and tapped the person in it on the leg before moving on, as though oblivious to my being there. Miller raised his head and smiled.

“Hey, how you doing?” I reached out a tentative hand and pushed a lock of hair off his forehead.

“I’m all right.” His words came out mumbled. “The docs took a chunk of metal out and patched me up. They musta shot me up with something, I was feeling pretty good for a while.” He reached up and grabbed my hand, moving it to his mouth and kissing my palm. “Thanks for bringing me here. It was a stupid thing to do, but thanks.”

I felt my entire body flush with heat. “You’d lost so much blood, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It’s okay, it worked out. The cops will come and ask me how I
got a bullet in my shoulder. They’ll tie me to the shooting at the doc’s office. I’ll just have to sit in a cell until ACE gets their shit together and gets me out.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my fingers playing with a crease in my jeans. My emotions were a jumble of incoherent feelings, spinning out of control between relief for Miller and fear of being without him. I couldn’t stop the tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

Miller squeezed my hand tighter. “You got some money off the IBC guy right? If you look in the box under the back seat of the car, you’ll find more. It should be more than enough to get you out of the city. Your best bet is to get up to Level 7 and catch a shuttle out of here. From there, get a car and just drive until you don’t know where you are. Get out of San Angeles.”

“I don’t think I . . . can do it without you.” I almost said
want
.

“I know you can. Look how far you got before I got here. It’s tough to stay alive when the corporations are hunting you down. You did good. Just keep it up and you’ll be out of the city in no time.”

“I don’t
want
to do it alone, without you.” I didn’t, I couldn’t hold back this time.

“You have to.” Miller put my hand on my lap and let it go. “And you have to do it now, before the cops come. If they see you talking to me, you’ll never make it out.”

From down the hallway, I could hear the sound of the double swinging doors banging open.

I turned to look. Quincy strode down the hall, looking into rooms as he passed. Behind him walked a woman. She locked her eyes onto mine and grabbed Quincy’s arm.

“Oh, god. They found us.” I froze where I was, watching Quincy.

A hand reached into my jacket pocket. Miller reaching for my gun. He slipped it out and I heard a soft click as he cocked it.

The woman stopped dead in her tracks. Her hand reached behind her back, grabbing at something stuck in her pants. I didn’t see the gun in her hand until it was too late. Miller didn’t make the same mistake.

I felt rather than heard the bullet flying out of the barrel of my gun, the blast of air pressing my shirt against my waist. It was surprisingly quiet. The woman dropped where she stood, a perfect round hole in the middle of her chest.

Miller pushed me off the bed, and I landed on the floor, my butt no longer numb. The gun pointed over the side, aiming at Quincy.

I heard the gun pop again, and a doorframe shattered behind Quincy as he ran into one of the rooms. Doctors, nurses, and patients, originally frozen where they stood, began to run at the sound of the exploding doorframe. I stood up and Miller jammed the gun back into my pocket.

“Run.”

“No!” I wasn’t leaving him behind.

The double doors flew open again and two uniformed policemen ran through them, ducking and hugging the walls. Their weapons were in their hands.

“Run, I’ll be okay,” Miller hissed again.

A nurse ran past us, bumping into my shoulder. Miller gave me a push and I stumbled after the nurse down the hall. We ran through the doors to the ambulance stop.

I hesitated in the cool evening air, spinning back to face the closing doors. One cop stood by Miller, the other I couldn’t see. I headed to the drive where I’d left the car.

It was gone. For a second I felt dizzy and my shoulders started vibrating. The security guard must have parked it for me. He seemed pretty lazy, so it had to be close. I ran across the driveway and into the parking lot, scanning the rows. I found it almost right away.

I pulled open the door, praying the keys were still inside it. They hung from the ignition. I started the car and drove out of the lot, forcing myself not to speed or drive erratically, as more police drove in.

Two blocks away, I pulled down a side street and parked. My knuckles stood out white on hands clenched around the steering wheel. Miller. I had left Miller with Quincy right there, and Miller had stuck the gun back in my pocket.

I turned the car around and drove back toward the hospital. There were already three more police cars by the ambulance entrance, and I heard the sound of sirens in the distance. Drones flew through the air overhead. More were on the way.

I drove right past, keeping up with the other traffic that had slowed down to gawk at the
spectacle.