Fight for Power by Eric Walters Read Free Book Online Page B

just let him die,” Herb said. “I have him under guard, not just to stop him from escaping but to stop anybody else from harming him.”
    â€œDo you really think that would happen?” I asked.
    â€œWhat would you do if you thought he’d been responsible for killing a member of your family?”
    I didn’t need to think. “I guess it’s the right thing to have him under protection.”
    â€œI don’t know about right, but it’s certainly wise. All along I thought he might have more information we could use. So, are you in?”
    â€œDo you even need to ask?”
    *   *   *
    Dr. Morgan and the two nurses at the little clinic were busy, but it didn’t look any busier than the times I’d been to the walk-in clinic before the power went out. There were two differences, though.
    First, the clinic had three admitted patients in beds off to the side of the waiting room, where in normal times they would have gone to a hospital instead.
    Second, there was an armed guard standing at the door leading to our prisoner’s room. The guy with a gun was a jarring reminder not only of why we were there but also of how the world had evolved—or devolved. A few short weeks ago it was beyond belief that somebody would be standing in our mall, rifle on his shoulder, guarding a prisoner, two doors down from the supermarket and four away from the Baskin-Robbins.
    Dr. Morgan saw us and came over.
    â€œHow is our patient doing?” Herb asked.
    â€œBetter, and we’ll all be doing better once he’s well enough to leave here.”
    â€œIs he causing problems?” Herb asked.
    â€œNot directly, but he is a problem. We had another woman who showed up all agitated wanting to see him,” Dr. Morgan said.
    â€œShe wasn’t allowed in, was she?” Herb asked.
    â€œOf course not. She was escorted out by the guard, but it’s pretty disruptive and disturbing to all the patients when that happens.”
    â€œHas that happened often?” I asked.
    â€œThree or four times. I understand those people are angry—that they need help, counseling, to get over what they experienced—but I have a clinic to run.”
    â€œWe’ve got them help, but it isn’t that simple,” Herb said.
    â€œI understand. I’m sorry if I implied it was, but I guess I just find it pretty disturbing myself,” Dr. Morgan said.
    â€œNo apology necessary. We’ll try to give them additional support. I just know that what they experienced, well, they’ll never really get over. All we can do is help them cope. So when do you think he’ll be ready to leave?” Herb asked.
    â€œTwo weeks, three at most, if there are no unforeseen downturns in his condition.”
    â€œSo he’s not out of the woods yet,” Herb said.
    â€œHe should have died. Frankly, I was surprised he didn’t die. It’s not like I’ve had any experience with gunshot wounds before this.”
    â€œLet’s hope it stays that way,” Herb said. “Is it all right for us to go in and speak to him?”
    â€œOf course. Take all the time you want. He’s not due for his dressings to be changed for a couple of hours.”
    I followed Herb to the door. The guard was a retiree I recognized but didn’t know by name. He gave Herb a little salute. I guess this wasn’t how either of them was expecting to spend his golden years.
    â€œWe’re going to interview our prisoner,” Herb said. “Have you had a break, Stewart?”
    Of course Herb knew his name. Herb seemed to know everybody’s name.
    â€œStraight duty, no breaks, since six this morning.”
    â€œWhy don’t you go down to the supermarket and explain to Ernie I sent you to have a coffee?” Herb suggested.
    â€œWould that be all right?”
    â€œI’m here, and so is Adam.”
    â€œThanks, I won’t be long.”
    â€œNo