Maybe

19

Sam Case.

THE TRIP TO Vegas is the worst of Sam’s life. One of the excellent doctors at Mount Weather set his broken nose yesterday, but of course it’s killing him today. Pain killers would be nice, but Sam won’t take them before meeting Maybe Taylor this afternoon. Pain killers could fog his brain, and he’ll need his wits if he’s going to talk Maybe into flying back east to kill Sherry Cherry.

Sam hadn’t considered he might feel severe pressure building up in his nose as the plane begins its initial descent into Las Vegas, but that’s exactly what happens. To make matters worse, his swollen nose has blocked his nasal passages and made him congested to the point his ears feel like they’re going to explode.

He tries not to cry out in pain, but he’s aware his dull moaning noises are annoying the passengers around him. He dabs at his nose with a cocktail napkin. Within seconds, it’s soggy with blood.

“That’s abhorrent!” the lady next to him says. “You need to do something!”

“Sorry,” Sam says.

“Are you crying?” she says.

“Probably.”

The pain in his face and ears is excruciating, and blood’s dripping from his nose faster than his napkin can contain it. Sam looks up to see the fasten seat belt sign lit and knows the flight attendants are buckled in for the landing. He asks the passengers around him if anyone has an extra cocktail napkin he can use, but either they didn’t hear him, or pretend not to. The lady next to him says, “That’s just great,” and fishes two tampons from her purse.

“It’s all I’ve got,” she says. “Do not bleed on my outfit.”

Sam accepts the tampons gratefully, opens them, and inserts one into each nostril as expertly as if he’d done it a hundred times.

“I hope you get toxic shock syndrome,” she says.

Sam packed light, so he doesn’t have to wait at baggage claim. He moves his jaw from side to side and pulls on his ears, trying to open them up. He gets one open in time to answer his cell phone.

“Where the hell have you been?” Darwin says.

“I just landed in Vegas. What’s wrong?”

“Donovan Creed is ruining your plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“He landed in Roanoke two hours ago.”

“Why’s that a problem?”

“Check your messages. I’ve left three.”

Sam makes his way to a quiet area and leans against the wall. “Since you’re already on the phone, can you just explain the problem?”

“Roanoke is near Creed’s headquarters, Sensory Resources. The place you met Doc Howard. The place they kept you after your snake bite. Does any of this ring a bell?”

“Of course. So what?”

“Don’t you think Creed might be there to check on Sherry Cherry? To see if she’s sobered up enough to effect the exchange?”

“Shit!”

“That’s the response I’m looking for.”

“If he’s got her, it’s over. I’ve lost.”

“Not necessarily. He still has to make arrangements with the government, and that will take time. Since you’re in Vegas, get Maybe Taylor on board. I’ll see if I can arrange for Sherry to escape.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, just do your part.”