Free Time to Die by John Gilstrap

clear enough for you, sir? We made it very clear that any form of travel out of the area would jeopardize any gift. What were you thinking?”
    “I was thinking that we’d crossed this bridge two days ago!” Carter yelled, then he found the handle for his temper. Why did doctors presume the right to speak to you as if you were a child? “She was upset and she ran away. If you’d come through with your end of the promise on Thursday, we wouldn’t have this problem now, okay? So how about cutting me a break and telling me how much goddamn time I have?”
    Carter could hear papers moving on the other end. “I’m going to move to the next name on the list—”
    “Oh, God, please don’t do that,” Carter begged. “Not now. Not yet. Give me some time. Any time. You owe me that. Hell, just tell me what my criteria are. If I blow it, I blow it, but at least give me a chance here.”
    “When can you let me know?” the doctor pressed. “People wait years for donor organs to become available—”
    “Like I don’t know that?” Carter boomed. “This is my daughter’s life we’re talking about. We’ve been waiting nine months ourselves. I’m desperate here. I just need to know how much time I have to work with.”
    For fifteen seconds, silence echoed from the other end of the line. Carter wondered if maybe the doctor had hung up on him. When Dr. Cavanaugh spoke, he dealt his words as if they were individual sentences, very slow and very measured. “We need to be in the OR within six hours of the time of harvest,” he said. “Assuming that they’ve begun the harvest already, that means that I need you here within five hours. But I’ll need a commitment from you within the hour to verify that you’ll be here.”
    “And if we can’t make it, where does she go on the list?”
    “It’s not like that, Mr. Janssen. There are too many factors. Nicolette is in the good position of having a universal-recipient blood type. On the other hand, if the next donor turns up with a rare blood type that is difficult to match, and we have a recipient waiting for that rare blood type, then obviously, we have to lean toward them. It would not be unreasonable to expect another ten- to fifteen-month wait.”
    The air rushed out of Carter’s lungs. He needed to say something, to negotiate more, but there was nothing left to say. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back in touch in an hour.”
    “If I don’t hear from you,” the doctor said, “I will go to the next name on the list, and that decision will be unalterable, you understand?”
    “Yes, sir, I do. And—”
    “Let’s say forty-five minutes, then,” Cavanaugh said. “That’s forty-four minutes and sixty seconds. At forty-four sixty-one, the offer is off the table.”
    Carter opened his mouth to acknowledge him, but the line was already dead. As he folded the phone closed, he laid his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “On any other day of my life, that would have been the best news possible.”
    “Her transplants are ready?”
    Carter nodded. “Somewhere in Towanda County, New York, parents are grieving the death of their son in an auto accident, and in the midst of all that grief, they had the decency to offer up his body parts to the living.” He opened his eyes and rocked his head to face the deputy. “How macabre is that?”
    “I think it’s beautiful,” Darla said.
    “And after all the shit that two families have gone through, walking the tightrope between life and death, it’s all going to mean nothing because I can’t get Nicki there in time for the operation.”
    “How long did they give you?”
    “I have to call them in forty-five minutes.” He checked his watch. “Make that forty-four.”
    “You can’t get her there in that amount of time,” Darla said. “Even if your theories are correct, and everything goes right, there’s no way you can have her on her way in less than an hour.”
    Carter closed his eyes