30
In Stitches
By the time I woke up, I was flat on my back on the gurney, with Nathan taping a dressing over the wound.
“There,” he said, proud of his work. “That should keep you going.”
I sat, stood and got my balance. The pain in my side hadn’t gone away, but I could move around fine, the stitches holding firm. JPAC first-aid training really was the best.
“Thanks,” I said, rolling my shirt down over my side, the cotton stiff with dried blood. “Let’s get going.”
“No,” Nathan said, snapping a pair of latex gloves off his hands.
“What do you mean, no?”
“Well let’s see,” Nathan said, perching his behind on a medical cabinet. “We’ve got the entire Special Unit and most of La Firma searching for us. Not to mention anyone else who fancies a quick peso. I give us two or three more block
