Page 134 of Wyatt
The trailer jerked as he secured the back hatch.
“This isn’t the way! Listen, I’m a hacker—I can get your message out!”
The door opened and he stood in the dimness, as if considering her words.
“I could send a viral message into Twitter and get it—”
“Jackson has cronies in every part of the government. Her own rogue faction. They’d shut it down in a heartbeat. No, the only way this gets out is live.” Then he picked up the duct tape and pulled out a long swath.
“No, please—” She struggled, shaking her head until he pushed her onto the mattress, kneeled on either side of her, and pasted the tape over her mouth.
“Can’t let you get people upset.”
Then he climbed off her and closed the door.
In a few moments, they were backing out, the tires crunching over the pine needles, crushing them into submission.
Wyatt had slept like the dead, his entire body collapsing in a protective position around Mikka. It wasn’t until he felt little fingers playing with his beard that he opened his eyes.
Brown eyes looked up at him, and the kid grinned. “Dobra Ootra.”
He repeated it back.
Mikka giggled, and Wyatt tickled him even as he realized he’d fallen asleep in Mikka’s tiny hospital bed.
The morning light filtered into the room behind a pulled curtain—probably his mother’s doing. She slept in the lounger, looking a little older than he liked.
But now she was a grandma. She was allowed to look older.
He leaned up, expecting to see Coco in the other lounger, but it was empty.
For a long second, he just stared at it, frowning.
The door opened and he looked up, expecting—
No. Just Sarai, who came in wearing a pair of dress pants and an oxford shirt, a stethoscope around her neck. She gave him a smile, something forgiving in it.
Oh yeah, she’d seen his great escape.
“We could find you another lounger, Wyatt.”
“Thanks. I’m good.” He disentangled himself from the bed, his muscles screaming, and he must have made a face because Sarai came over to him.
“You okay?”
“Stiff. Hard practice yesterday.”
“So, I suppose Coco filled you in on the diagnosis?” She came over to Mikka and said something to him in Russian, tousling his hair.
“Sorta. I…so, what are we going to do?”
Sarai reached for the blood pressure cuff on the wall. “Are you willing to get tested to see if your blood is a match for a stem cell transplant?”
He had gotten up and was stretching. “Of course I am.”
She took Mikka’s blood pressure, then let the air out and reattached the cuff to the wall. “I’ll have the nurse send in the kit.”
She said something to Mikka, who nodded his head, then turned back to Wyatt. “I’ll order Mikka’s breakfast. Then as soon as Coco gets back, Dr. Lee and I’d like to meet with both of you to go over treatment.”