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Gleason marie it back? If not, was he in charge? And if he was, how the hell was he going to get anything accomplished? He had tried to move twice now, and each time it had hurt like hell. |
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"Well, you heard the plan, big boy. Feel up to it?" Freeman wasn't the kind to pamper his patients, especially not the ones the size of Bart Miller. |
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"Is it risky?" Linda asked. |
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"Hell yes, it's risky," Freeman snapped. "I need some needle and thread. At the moment, the only thing that's holding your boy's head together is a couple of adhesive butterfly clamps." |
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"Then we're not going to risk it," Linda said adamantly. |
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"Neither can we risk sitting here on the beach in the dark in this old house. The storm could turn this old dump into a bunch of broken sticks in a matter of minutes. Besides, if those clamps let go, I'm gonna need a hell of a lot more than what I got in that black bag of mine." |
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It was left to Moxie to resolve the dispute. He had a way of reducing all situations to their simplest elements. "I drive you." He looked at Linda. "You ride in the back with Doctor and Boss Bart. Then I take Doctor to his place and get what he need." |
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