CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Reid wiped sweat from his brow with a sock and groaned. He felt awful. Even not moving at all he was still sweating, and mild nausea had risen in his gut. He had spent much of his time in the tiny crew quarters thinking of his girls back home, wondering what they were doing at that same moment, and if they were thinking of him too. He desperately wanted to hear their voices. But he couldn’t. He had no line of communication to them.
The faded white phone on the wall rang with two dull electronic tones that had really grown to irritate him. He answered it quickly. “Steele.”
“Hey.”
He smiled. “We just talked fifteen minutes ago.”
“I know,” Maria said. “I just wanted to check in again and see if you were dead yet.”
He laughed. “Still kicking, at least for now. But so
