Free The Zombie Game by Glenn Shepard Page B

and pain medication to take after surgery.”
    “Anesthesia?” Roupe asked.
    “I need him awake and alert after the procedure, to help me figure out why they’re after me and Dr. Tomas Duran. Let’s do local. Marcaine with epinephrine. The Marcaine is long-acting and will keep him numbed up for the rest of the day.”
    “But you’re a plastic surgeon.”
    “Yes. But I did these operations many times in the past, when I took my surgery residency—the same training Tomas had. It’s something I’ll never forget,” I said. “Speaking of Dr. Duran, have you heard from him?”
    “No, but his stepmother called and said the police had him in custody for stealing money from our National Treasury. I had to cancel surgery. I called the hospital ship, but they said you weren’t doing any more surgery.”
    “Right. Well, you need to know that they’re accusing me of killing men on the Ana Brigette , so the police are after me, too.”
    “No worries,” Roupe said. “I know they are all corrupt.”
    “Good. Is it safe for me to operate on Jakjak at your hospital? Somebody tried to kill him and will finish him off if they learn he’s still alive.”
    “You’ll both be safe here at Hospital Sainte Croix,” Dr. Roupe assured me.
    I glanced at Jakjak. He was pale and had begun to drag his feet. “Is it possible to do this tonight ?” I asked Roupe.
    “Not a chance, if you want to keep this a secret from the law. There were a couple of break-ins two weeks ago by some people who stole drugs, so the place is locked up and the police are all over it at night,” he explained. “They leave when the hospital opens at seven. Come around eight tomorrow morning. I’ll have the instruments and medications ready for you.”
    “That’s great. Can you trust your staff to be close-mouthed?”
    “That might be a problem. I don’t know who to trust, so I’ll have to be your only assistant. And we must do it in the ER. That’s been closed since Dr. Duran left to help find his father,” Roupe said.
    I hung up the phone and sat on the bunk next to Jakjak.
    “Hungry?” he asked.
    “I sure am.”
    Jakjak opened two rusted soup cans with a sharp-edged piece of marble and handed one to me. I downed the contents in one long gulp. I was so hungry I could have eaten another can.
    I stood to leave. “Do you know where I can find a computer with internet access?”
    “We’ll go to Minis Duran’s office—but after dark, when it’s safe.”
     
     
    Ministry of Finance
Port-au-Prince, Haiti
    12:05 a.m.
    Jakjak and I stumbled through the rocks and treacherous terrain in the dark. Jakjak used his flashlight to keep us from falling into the bottomless crevasses that popped up all along the streets. Finally, we reached the Ministry of Finance’s temporary building. We entered through a window that Jakjak said he’d broken when he tried to rescue Minister Duran on Monday night.
    I activated the minister’s computer, logged into my account, and waited for the message from Elizabeth Keyes. She had special computer skills and had worked with terrorists in the past. Nobody could help me more.
    At 12:15, her message popped onto the monitor: “I’ll be at the airport in thirty minutes. I’ll get off on the tarmac to avoid customs.”
    I quickly replied: “I’ll be in a white Lexus. I’ll find you.”
    Tomas’ car was still parked down the street, and Jakjak knew of the spare key in the glove compartment.
    I looked him in the eyes. “Jakjak, you’re sick. Lay down here while I go to the airport. Just tell me how to get there.”
    “ Doktè James, the roads are so broken up, you’d have to know the city to get around all the detours. You’ll never find it. I insist. I’ll go with you and drive.”
    We walked the short distance to the car. As Jakjak reached for the door handle, he began to cough violently and then collapsed, falling to the street. I dropped to my knees to assist him. He was turning blue. As I lifted him to a