He stared at the face inches from him and took in the smooth skin, dark, gleaming eyes, straight white teeth and a smile that eased even the worst kind of pain. Yeah, that was Max all right. His hair was longer, though. In fact, the buzz of stubble was so long the ends were starting to twist into tight curls, betraying his momma’s Congolese roots.
“Jed, come on, it’s Max. Wake up for me.”
I am awake, and I know your goddamn name.
With a Herculean effort, he opened his eyes wider and raised his arm. He swiped clumsily at Max’s face, but Max got the hint and leaned closer. “What is it? What do you need?”
You.
Jed took a deep, painful breath and swallowed hard. “I… know who… you are.”
Day Three
SILENCE.
Pain.
Silence.
Pain.
Jed’s tormentor put a hand on his chest—a gloved hand, he could smell the latex—and pressed hard.
“If you’re tired, go with it, I’ve got all night, but if you’re feeling up to it, I can sit you up and go through some of what you’ve missed.”
Bastard.
Jed raised his left arm—his right wasn’t working so well yet—and rubbed his face until Dr. Howarth came into focus. “I’m awake.”
“Good.” Dr. Howarth smiled. “I’m going to raise the bed up now. You might feel a little dizzy.”
Jed braced himself, but the warning turned out to be unfounded. Sitting upright didn’t feel any worse than lying flat on his back. If anything, his foggy brain felt clearer, like he’d pulled his head from a pit of sand.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” Jed nodded slowly, taking in the unfamiliar room. “How long have I been in here?”
“A week. Do you know what happened?”
Jed thought on it a moment. Max had tried explaining the massive black hole in his head, and Dan too, but not much of what they said made any sense, and he’d come to the conclusion that they didn’t understand it themselves. “A blood infection? From the… endoscopy?”
“We’re not sure of the source, it could’ve been the IVs, or something airborne, but yes, it was an infection. You gave us quite a scare when you went septic.”
Septic. Jed understood that word, and it went some way to explaining the fading blue marks on his torso. He’d seen marks like that on children dying of malaria. Aweek, though? Damn. That was a long time to lose.
Another doctor came in, and together with Dr. Howarth, he explained a little more. For the most part, Jed tried to listen, but much of what they said went over his head. He stored some of it away to decipher later, but when the other doctor left the room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been eager to sit up, but now, without Max to stare at, it seemed hardly worth the effort.
“He went with your Army friend to get some supper.”
Jed frowned. No part of that sentence made any sense. He hadn’t spoken out loud, had he? And the only Army people he would ever call friends were dead or— His mind failed him. It was abrupt and disturbing, like his train of thought had flashed right by without stopping at the station to pick up the rest of his conscious thought.
Without warning, Dr. Howarth lowered the bed rail and sat on the side of the bed. A strange sensation crept over his face. He flinched. What the hell?
Dr. Howarth squeezed his arm. “It’s okay. I know you feel like you’ve been hit by a—” A buzzing noise cut him off. He swore under his breath and pressed something above Jed’s head. The door opened. He spoke over his shoulder. “Can you see if anyone is around for Jed right now?”
The creeping feeling on Jed’s face returned. He swiped at it with his good hand, and his fingers came away wet.
Great. No wonder Dr. Howarth was watching him like he was about to explode. He was crying like a baby without even knowing.