Tomorrow We Die Read Online Free Page B

cooler in a front cabinet. “I think I want to return to my home planet.”
    “Nonsense! You must check in with the system status authorities at once. Henceforth we will secure caffeinated beverages.”
    He’d no doubt already had a couple cups. “It’s early, so let me translate. . . . Are you saying you want me to get the radios and drug keys?”
    “Of course.”
    I stepped out of the ambulance and walked down the hall that led to dispatch.
    “That’s why you’re the best partner in the world, Jonathan. But don’t let that inflate your noggin.”
    I started the engine and dropped the ambulance into gear.
    Bones put us in service with dispatch. “Medic Two, McCoy and Trestle, oh-six-thirty to eighteen-thirty.”
    “Copy,” dispatch said. “Post Rock Boulevard and Victorian Avenue.”
    I looked over at Bones. “Starbucks?”
    Bones, ever the connoisseur, said, “Never. No finer brew can be found than that which flows from the 7-Eleven.”
    “How can you drink that stuff?”
    “Nectar of the gods, Jonny-boy.”
    “Try nectar of the broke.”
    “And . . . that would be us.”
    Morning poured into the valley, infusing color and warmth. Traffic grew heavier as the minutes passed. We parked at the post – a little hole-in-the-wall that Aprisa Ambulance leased with a couple couches and a TV. Bones strolled over to the convenience store. I unlocked the door, set my radio on the floor, and stretched out on a sofa. It smelled like dusty aged fabric. Bones walked in, laptop case strung over his shoulder, no plastic top for his coffee.
    “Why don’t you ever get a top for those? Aren’t you afraid it’ll spill if we get a call?”
    “That’s just it. If I get a top, then we’re sure to get a call.”
    “That’s the goofiest logic I’ve ever heard.”
    He lay down on the other couch and picked up the television remote. An episode of the seventies show Emergency emerged on the tube. “Hey, look,” he said. “There we are.”
    “Roy and Johnny?”
    “No. No. There. The guys with the white coats and the converted hearse.” He sipped his coffee. “Burt and Ernie with the gurney.”
    I brought out Simon Letell’s notepaper and unfolded it. The markings still looked nonsensical. I set it on my stomach and looked up. “You ever heard of Arepo the Sower?”
    “Does he live on Fourth Street?”
    “No. Well, at least I don’t think so.” I straightened a corner of the paper. “You know our last patient from yesterday?”
    “Yeah?”
    “He AMA’d himself out of CCU.”
    Bones turned on his side. “Really?”
    “Yeah.”
    He stared at my hands. “You healed him. You are a miracle worker.”
    “He died outside his motel room last night.”
    “Oh.” He sat back. “You should have given him a piece of your garment.”
    “A piece of my garment?”
    “ ‘Surely then he would not have died.’ ”
    “Would you shut up?” I folded up the note. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
    He sipped his coffee. Roy Desoto cranked up the black phone to talk to Rampart. The show went to commercial.
    Bones glanced at me. “So, how’d you find all that out?”
    “Oh, now you want to hear about it.”
    “You have two minutes before Emergency comes back on.”
    I held up the paper. “I went back to Saint Mary’s to return this.”
    “What does it say?”
    “Nothing intelligible.”
    “Arepo the Sower? Is that what he said on scene?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Wasn’t there more to it?”
    “ ‘Arepo the Sower holds the wheels at work.’ ”
    Bones stared at the floor. “I can’t think of anything related. Have you Googled it?”
    “The thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
    “Let’s do it.” He sat up, unzipped his bag, and pulled out a silver and black Dell.
    “Can you get Internet here?”
    “I’ve got a mobile card.” He powered up the computer. Roy and Johnny returned. I muted it. The Google search field popped up on the laptop screen.
    Bones typed in the Arepo phrase.