Desperate Measures

3

Pittman’s sudden weakness alarmed him. Light-headed, he feared that he would lose his balance. He leaned against the coffee machine.

What did you expect? he told himself. The past two days, you’ve had more exercise than you’ve had all year. You’ve been running all over Manhattan. You got a few hours sleep on a park bench. You haven’t had enough to eat. You’ve been strung out from fear and adrenaline. It’s a wonder you managed to stay on your feet as long as you have.

But I can’t collapse. Not here. Not now.

Why not? he joked bitterly. A hospital’s a great place to collapse.

Have to get back to Sean. Have to go back to the loft.

But after Pittman concentrated to steady himself and pushed away from the coffee machine, he discovered that he wasn’t steady at all. His legs wavered more disturbingly. His stomach felt queasy. He gripped the wall, afraid that the janitor at the end of the corridor would look in his direction, see that he was in trouble, and call for help.

Have to get away from here.

Sure, and how far do you think you’ll get? You’re oozing sweat, pal. You’re seeing gray. If you go outside, you’re liable to collapse on the street. After the police find you, after they see the name on your credit card and find that.45 in your coat pocket…

Where, then?

His bitter joke echoed in his mind. A hospital’s a great place to collapse.