Lockdown

Sixty

In the hospital block, Lock was staked out on a gurney. Across the room, Mareta was similarly restrained, her left leg a bloodied mess. Richard Hulme, who’d been drafted in as a surrogate ER physician, stood over her.

‘How’d this happen?’ he asked Stafford, who was pacing the room.

‘Ask the Lone Ranger over there,’ Stafford said, gesturing towards Lock.

Lock rested his chin on his chest. His only real injuries were cuts and bruises sustained during the beating he’d taken after he’d put down the Glock. All the guards had been members of Brand’s detail. Grief, in this case, manifested itself in the form of kicking and punching Lock all the way to the medical block.

But, Lock had noted as he was taking his beating, they hadn’t laid a finger on Mareta. She was a woman. She was injured. But he didn’t think that would have stopped them. They needed her. And now, he hoped, they’d need him just enough to keep him alive for a while longer.

‘Well, the good news is I doubt it’ll require amputation,’ Richard said. ‘But we need to get her to a proper emergency facility as soon as we can.’

‘No can do,’ Stafford said. ‘You’ll have to patch her up here. We can get you whatever you need.’

‘It’s been twenty years since I went near anything like this.’

‘Good opportunity to brush up on your skills then.’

‘Dad!’

Josh stood in the doorway of the room, flanked by two guards.

‘Sorry,’ one of them said as the other tried to hustle Josh back out of the room. ‘All we heard was that Dr Hulme was in here.’

Josh broke away from their grip and rushed to his father. ‘What’s wrong with those people?’ he asked, staring at Lock and Mareta over his father’s shoulder.

‘They had an accident. But don’t worry, Daddy’s going to make it all better. Now, why don’t you go back to your room?’

One of the guards came over to lead him out.

‘Come on, son.’

‘No, let him stay,’ Stafford interrupted.

Lock watched as Josh shuttled his gaze between his father and Stafford, unsure who to obey. It was the first time he had seen the boy in anything other than photographs. The anger he felt that he’d been used as a pawn in this whole thing by Stafford acted like an opiate to dull his pain. Damn. He should have shot him when he had the chance and been done with it.

Stafford turned his attention back to Mareta, and grimaced at her leg wound. ‘She still good to go for the trial?’ he asked Richard.

‘Are you out of your mind? Of course not.’

‘You couldn’t juggle the results?’

‘Wait a second. One minute you want me to sign off, now you want me to fake them?’

‘You’re right. But it still leaves us one short. We’ll have to find someone else to take her place.’

Lock watched as Stafford’s gaze settled on Josh.

‘I wonder if there’d be any clinical benefit in seeing how effective the vaccine is with a different age group?’ Stafford mused.

Richard placed himself between Stafford and his son. ‘You can go to hell, Stafford.’

Lock strained to lift his head. ‘You can use me.’