Free Bonds of Earth by G. N. Chevalier Page B

there.”
    “I’m going to go watch over him,” Michael said. “The nurses check him only once every half hour at most.” Before he could rise to his feet, Mary’s hand on his wrist stopped him.
    “Find Johnny first,” she said softly. “We haven’t seen him since this started.”
    Michael was still reeling from the fact she’d called Seward “Johnny” when she added, “And don’t be harsh with him. It’s not his fault.”
    “How can you say—” Michael began hotly, but a gentle squeeze to his arm silenced him as effectively as a blow.
    “You don’t know all there is to know,” she said simply. “Just—please make sure he’s all right. Thomas would want that.”
     
     
    I T DIDN ’ T take long for Michael to find Seward. Once the battleaxe downstairs had coldly informed him no one fitting Seward’s description had entered the hospital since they’d arrived, he’d walked outside and found him sitting on the front steps, elbows resting on his knees, smoking a cigarette. Seward’s long-fingered hands were trembling visibly, although the night was warm.
    “Mary asked me to find you,” Michael said, sitting down beside him.
    “You’ve found me,” Seward murmured, taking another drag. “Now go away.”
    Fury slammed into Michael hard, making him forget Mary’s words. “Not even interested in knowing whether you’ve killed him or not?” he sneered.
    To his utter shock, Seward did not answer back as he usually did. Instead he stared at Michael for a moment, then crumpled before his eyes. He buried his head in his hands and drew deep, shuddering breaths. “If you imagine,” he gasped brokenly, “that you loathe me more than I loathe myself, you’re mistaken. Please, I beg you, leave me alone.”
    Michael sat frozen for a moment, suspended between new habits and old. The new man would stand up now and do as Seward wished, not out of courtesy or obedience but rather from a lack of interest. The man he had been, however, knew that was not what Seward needed. Finally, he heard his own voice say, as from a distance, “He’s not out of danger yet, but chances are he’s going to recover.”
    Seward’s hands still covered his face, but at Michael’s words he produced a small, soft sound, something dangerously close to a sob.
    “Come inside,” Michael said gruffly.
    Seward lifted his head from his hands, wiping at his cheeks as he did so. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I won’t set foot in that place.”
    Michael sighed. “Suit yourself,” he muttered. “But you’ll be staying out here all night.”
    Seward studied the cigarette stub between his fingers, then dropped it on the step and crushed it beneath his left foot. “It’s all right,” he answered as he reached inside his jacket for another one. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.”
     
     
    M ICHAEL watched Abbott through the night and well into the next morning. He gratefully drank cup after cup of coffee brought to him by the young duty nurse, whose sympathetic green eyes were the exact color of Seward’s.
    Abbott began to stir around eleven, and Michael rushed down the hall to retrieve Mary and Sarah, who were fairly vibrating with worry and frustration by this time. They allowed Mary in first; she emerged from the room a few minutes later, her cheeks rosy, tears bright in her eyes. She placed an arm around Sarah and tried to lead her inside, but the girl flinched and darted away from her touch.
    Mary’s face reflected several emotions that came and went too quickly for Michael to identify. Finally she murmured, “All right, we’ll wait until you’re ready,” and smoothed a hand over her granddaughter’s hair before motioning for Michael to go inside. “He wants to see you.” As puzzled by her words as by Sarah’s odd reaction, Michael complied.
    Abbott was propped up in the bed, looking weak but much better than he had the night before. He nodded to Michael as he drew nearer.
    “Mary says I have