Chasing the Cure

by Brooke Shelby

  “Inshallah,” replied Dale slowly.

  The man was frowning. He pointed to the sky. “The sun is about to rise. The call to prayer will sound any minute. And yet all we can hear is you and your friends screaming.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Dale, shamefaced. “I truly am. There won’t be any more noise, I promise.”

  The man nodded, and he closed the door, striding back up to the room. Robin was staring out the window stiffly. Audra and Mason were both still awake, both of them grim-faced.

  “We woke the neighbors,” Dale said slowly, staring at them all. “There was a posse of them on the front door steps, complaining.”

  “I’m not surprised,” barked Mason, struggling to sit up. “You all have to get your shit together! It’s a major security issue. It was like watching teenagers fight in a bad TV drama!”

  Dale nodded, shamefaced again. Robin swiveled around. “Yeah, it wasn’t cool.”

  “Sorry,” muttered Audra. “Those drugs you gave me are messing with my head.”

  Dale sighed heavily, picking up the pill bottle and frowning. This was heavy-dose morphine, and the tablets should have knocked them both out. Instead, both Audra and Mason were wide awake, although they looked drugged.

  “Yeah, I think those tabs might be laced with pseudo,” said Robin, staring at the bottle over his shoulder.

  “Pseudo?”

  “Pseudoephedrine.” She sighed. “The street name is speed. That’s why they haven’t conked out. If it was straight morphine, they would be sleeping like the dead by now.”

  Dale sighed. “Street drugs,” he said darkly, shaking his head.

  Another knock sounded at the door. He put down the pill bottle and turned towards the door. “Keep it down to a dull roar, people. I don’t know if I can deal with another irate neighbor.”

  * * *

  But it wasn’t another irate neighbor. This man had light brown hair threaded with silver, tied back in a short ponytail, a heavily lined long face, and wore faded jeans and a T-shirt. He also carried a large black bag. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jim,” he said, in a southern English accent. “I got here as quick as I could.”

  Dale shook his hand, breathing a sigh of relief. It was the street doctor. “Pleased to meet you, Jim. I’m trusting that you know what you are doing?”

  Jim grinned. “Sure do. Fully trained doctor, from Cambridge no less.” He held up his bag. “I have all the necessary stuff here. Where are the patients?”

  Dale led him up the stairs to the room. Audra and Mason were still awake, but they looked spacey. Robin was half lying in a chair, staring out the window. She yawned loudly.

  “Robin.” He turned to her. “Go to bed. The doc’s here now.” He hesitated, staring at her. “I’m sorry about before. Those things I said. It’s been a rough night.”

  Robin blinked. “It surely has.” She stared at Jim, standing there with his bag. “Thanks for coming.”

  Jim grinned again. “My pleasure.” His eyes swept over the room, coming to rest on the two people in the beds. “If you guys want to leave, I’ll do an initial examination.” He was already walking towards Audra, as if he had forgotten Dale and Robin entirely.

  “Come on.” Dale’s voice was soft. He took her arm gently. “I’ll make you a mint tea. Calming before sleep.”

  She gazed up at him. He could see the weariness in her eyes. “Sounds awesome. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  He was struggling to stay awake himself by the time Jim came down the stairs, closing his bag with a decisive snap. Robin had already faded. She had been nodding into her tea, barely able to keep her eyes open.

  He stared at the man. “Sit down. Tell me everything.”

  Jim did as he asked, placing his bag on the table. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

  Dale sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “The good, I suppose.”

  “They’ll both live.” Jim smiled faintly. “I’ve operated on them both, taking out the bullets successfully. None of the injuries were sustained in vital places.”

  Dale breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. What is the bad news?”

  “They’ve both lost a lot of blood.” Jim frowned. “It will take time to recover from that. Either one of them, or both, might need a blood transfusion. I’ll come around and check on them again tonight. For now, I’ve dressed the wounds and given them shots of antibiotics and morphine. They are both out like lights.”

  Dale nodded. “That’s good. We gave them some morphine tabs, but they didn’t seem to sedate them at all.”

  Jim smiled. “The morphine on the streets here is often cut with other substances. It’s risky to give it to them.” He stood up. “The morphine I give is the good stuff. Have you ever injected someone before?”

  Dale frowned. “Years ago. When I took my mother home to die from palliative care.”

  “Good.” Jim smiled again. “I’ve left new, sterile syringes in the room, and instructions as to how much and how often. I’ll put the ampoules in the fridge before I go.” He took out a piece of paper from his pocket. “This is where you go to get more antibiotics and morphine. The people know me there. You won’t have a problem.” He paused. “Did Sayid tell you my price?”

  “He did.” Dale reached down and picked up a bag. “It’s all in there. As well as the gun. Sayid said you would dispose of it.”

  Jim nodded. “All part of the service.” He looked into the bag. “Thanks. Like I said, I’ll come back around tonight to check on them, but you and your friend will be the nurses. You must keep the wounds clean and changed regularly to combat infection.”

  “Got it,” said Dale, standing up. He held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Jim shrugged. “I’ve dealt with battle wounds before. Too many bloody times. More times than I care to remember.”

  “You were in the army?” Dale asked, staring at him. “What made you leave and set up shop in Marrakech?”

  Jim smiled faintly. “Now that’s a long story,” he said slowly. “And not one you probably want to hear. There’s a lot of people running from their past in Marrakech.”

  Dale nodded. Jim placed the morphine ampoules in the fridge, then left.

  Dale sank back down into the chair. He was so tired he could barely think straight. He had to get some sleep before the patients woke again, needing care. He stumbled to his room, falling across the bed. His head was spinning. For a moment, he thought of Robin, sound asleep in the next room. His last thought before sleep mercifully claimed him was how nice it would be to drift away in her arms. And how sorry he was for all the things he had said to her.

  25

  Robin’s hair whipped around her face as she stepped out onto the balcony, walking towards the steel railing. The lights of the city were just starting to turn on. From this high up, you could see just about all of Marrakech. The new city, as well as the old Medina, which they had left only yesterday.

  She smiled faintly, sipping her wine, as she watched the streetlights turn on like lights on a Christmas tree. Sayid and Rami had helped them move the patients out of the old riad and to this shiny twenty- second apartment in the new city. Dale had thought it best, given the security risk with dragging gunshot-wounded people back there and their explosive early morning fight. In the new city, they were closer to medication and other medical stuff, like bandages and syringes. And they could rent wheelchairs if needed.

  It had been over a week since that dramatic night. A week in which she and Dale had worked around the clock, playing nurses. It had been hard and exhausting, but also educational. Robin grinned. She could give an injection like a pro now. And she wasn’t going to lie to herself that it was anything but deeply satisfying jabbing Audra in the buttocks and listening to her squeal.

  The sliding doors opened, and Dale stepped out, clutching his own glass of wine. He walked over and stood next to her on the railing, gazing out at the city spread out around them like a banquet.

&nbs
p; “Do you like it better here?” he asked softly, turning to gaze at her.

  Robin shrugged. “It’s shiny and new and sleek, I suppose, but I liked the old riad. It had character, and it was beautiful. It knows its place. A house like that belongs in the old alleyways of the Medina.” She sipped her wine. “Just like me, I suppose. You can take the girl out of the streets …”

  “But you can’t take the streets out of the girl,” he finished slowly. “I’m sorry, Robin. How many times do I have to say it? I’m sorry I did a background check on you and Mason and Audra know that you used to be a street kid.”

  Robin glanced at him sharply. “It’s not that I’m ashamed of it. The streets made me who I am. It was the desire to claw my way out of that life that led me here.” She shook her head. “No, it’s because people judge you. They think that you are just scum. Like Audra.”

  Dale sighed. “Robin, she was high at the time, and she wasn’t thinking straight. I know Audra. She isn’t like that, not really. Please, give her another chance.”

  Robin rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve been getting my revenge on her, courtesy of a big fat needle.”

  Dale suppressed a grin with difficulty. “Revenge is sweet.” He gulped his wine. “Are you enjoying my peace offering, at least?”

  She stared down, into the glass, at the expensive sauvignon blanc wine. He had walked into the apartment and presented it to her half an hour ago, staring at her anxiously. “I hope you like wine. It took me two hours to find this bottle,” he had said awkwardly. “It’s a rare year.”

  She had nodded, saying nothing, while he opened it and poured them both a tall glass. Audra and Mason were both resting, and it was the first time since the night they had been wounded that they had relaxed, just a little. She was a tiny bit tipsy.

  They both gazed at the city, saying nothing for a while, sipping their wines. Robin knew she should throw him a bone. He was trying to make up for their fight, but she still couldn’t forget what he had said to her.

  “What is the plan now?” she said eventually. They had been so busy playing nurses that they had barely touched on the still-missing nanites.

  Dale exhaled slowly. “I’ve been thinking about it carefully. As much as I want to get all of us the hell out of here, I need those nanites.” He turned and gazed at her. “The briefcase with the research notes isn’t enough, not by a long shot. Those nanites in the wrong hands will ruin everything, and they are extremely hard to manufacture.”

  Robin nodded. She had been expecting him to say that. Dale Michaels was nothing if not tenacious about this. She had already started setting up the equipment in her new room in expectation that they would be chasing them again soon.

  “So it’s back to work then?” She blinked rapidly.

  He nodded. “It is. Mason and Audra have recovered enough that they don’t need round-the-clock nursing anymore.” He paused. “We can take it in shifts if you like.”

  She nodded again, draining her wine. “Well, I might keep setting up the equipment then.” She made to move towards the sliding door, back into the apartment, but he laid a hand on her arm, halting her.

  “Robin,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t know how to thank you … for everything that you have done. For me, for Audra, for Mason. You are one in a million.”

  Her heart tightened a little. His hand, resting lightly on her arm, made her skin tingle. It wasn’t going anywhere, this powerful thing between them. If anything, it seemed to be growing stronger. And yet he still refused to acknowledge it.

  She smiled, a little flippantly. “Hey, that’s why I’m being paid the big bucks.”

  She walked away, not looking back. She had never thought that she was a slow learner, but this one lesson was sinking in at long last.

  * * *

  Dale stared out at the night sky above the city. It was fully dark, now. Robin had left him hours ago. He had finished his wine, then started on a bottle of whiskey he had bought alongside it. The warm amber liquid had taken him over, and he stumbled a little against the railing.

  As he gazed at the city lights, the evening call to prayer sounded. The mournful cry seemed to pierce his soul, and suddenly he was appalled to find tears streaming down his face.

  Carlotta was dead. It was finally sinking in. He tossed back his whiskey, refilling it quickly. The woman he had loved so much, who he had been going to marry. The woman who was a professional thief and had no soul. She was gone.

  Karma, he thought darkly, tossing back the drink. She got what was due to her. He had finally accepted what she truly was. And now he was saying goodbye to her. To the woman he had thought she was, at least. To the woman he had loved.

  He wiped away the tears. There was another woman, now. A woman who had proved herself, over and over. A passionate ball of energy, quick-tempered, quick to love. She had walked into his life when he most needed it, and he had been running from her.

  He gripped the glass tightly in his hand. Robin. She was so close. All he needed to do was reach out and she would be there. He had vowed he would never fall in love again. But sometimes the best- laid plans were meant to be messed up.

  26

  Dale walked into the apartment, seeing Audra and Mason reclining in the small living room. They both wore slings on their arms, and he could see Mason’s crutches lying on the floor next to the sofa he was resting on. The large flat-screen television was blaring. Mason picked up the remote, hitting mute.

  Dale dumped his shopping bag on the coffee table. “Pastries for breakfast.” He stared at the television. “What on earth are you guys watching? It looks like a Moroccan version of Days of Our Lives.”

  Mason rolled his eyes, reaching for a pastry. “Audra’s choice this morning. She’s gotten hooked.” He took a bite, causing pastry flakes to fall everywhere. “I can’t understand a word of it.”

  Audra grinned, taking a pastry too. “It’s good! I’ve always known a bit of Arabic, but this show is improving my skills in the language so much.” She paused. “Well, the pillow talk, at least.”

  Dale laughed, sitting down. “You guys look so much better. I can’t believe this time last week I was seriously thinking you were both not going to make it.”

  “We’re made of sterner stuff than that, boss,” said Mason, taking the last bite of his pastry. “It would take a shitload of bullets to keep us down.”

  Dale laughed again. “I should have known. The bodyguard and the secretary—superheroes! I’ll have to get capes especially made for your both.”

  “Could you make a magic lasso as well, like Wonder Woman’s?” asked Audra, her eyes shining. “I always wanted to be Wonder Woman! You’re a genius, Dale—you can make anything. Maybe her transparent plane too? We’ll need transport.”

  “I’ll do my best,” said Dale, smiling. “I’ll get to work on it all as soon as we get home.”

  At that moment, Robin walked into the room, scratching her head and yawning loudly. She stared at the laughing trio, a bit nonplussed. “What’s the joke?”

  “Just planning the manufacture of some superhero accessories,” said Dale. “You look beat. Do you want a pastry? I’ll make some coffee too.”

  Robin flopped down on a sofa opposite them. “I only slept for a couple of hours. But it was worth it. I have news.”

  They all stared at her, suddenly alert. “What is it?” asked Dale quickly.

  “I have a signal from the nanites.” She paused. “The inbuilt computer in them is still working. And guess what? Our very good friend Jeremy Thompson has them. The signal is coming from his house in the Medina.”

  “What?” Dale frowned. “He must have raided wherever Carlotta was hiding out and taken them. They haven’t been posted on the Matrix again, have they?”

  Robin shook her head. “No. The auction is dead, just like her.” She paused. “Sorry, Dale. That was a bit insensitive …”

  Dale brushed it off. “It’s the truth,” he said bluntly. “And I’m hardly playing viol
ins over her demise. She got what was coming to her, and then some.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  A sudden knock at the door broke it. Robin got up to answer it, returning with Sayid and Rami. The brothers grinned at the group, sitting down cross-legged on the floor. Sayid stared for a long while at Robin, his dark eyes gleaming. Dale gazed at him. It was obvious the young Moroccan had a crush on her.

  “We have more news about Thompson,” said Sayid. “We have asked around. He is in a lot of debt.”

  “A lot,” agreed Rami, nodding. “He has made a lot of enemies here, in the underworld. He parties too much and has made bad debts which end in shootouts. He is not popular to do with business with.”

  “That can work in our favor,” said Mason slowly. “Sayid, could you make contact with some of those people and see if they might be willing to help us? If they do, they can get Thompson back as well.”

  Sayid nodded quickly. “We can do that.”

  “What are you thinking, Mason?” Dale was frowning.

  “I am thinking we should set the son of a bitch up,” replied Mason. “Play him at his own game. If we can get some local muscle, and the stuff we need, we could contact him to buy the nanites. Arrange a meeting for an exchange.”

  “He’ll betray us,” said Robin quickly. “You know that. Look what happened to Carlotta.”

  “Of course he will.” Mason’s voice was even. “That’s why we get the backup we need.”

  Dale nodded. “Yes, I see where you are going with this. But it can only work if we have the local help and the resources.” He paused, thinking quickly. “Robin, can you try to establish it on the Matrix? And Sayid and Rami, can you contact these figures in the local underworld?”

  They all nodded.

  Dale stood up. “That’s our new plan then. Let’s talk it through a bit further and then get started on it.” He stood up, his eyes shining. “I’ll make us some coffee.”