The Thought Pushers (Mind Dimensions #2)(21)

“Okay.” I try to sound brave, but my voice comes out hoarse and pathetic-sounding. “Better.”

“Here.” Mira hands me a cup of water from the little table near my bed, and I drink it carefully.

“Where is Eugene?” I ask, looking around in confusion.

“He went to visit Julia,” Mira says, and I detect a note of disapproval in her voice. Is she mad he left before seeing me recover, or does she just disapprove of him visiting Julia?

“How is she?” I ask.

“You’re worried about Julia, now? She’s doing better than you, I can assure you.” Mira smiles. “She didn’t get shot in the head.”

“Oh, right,” I say. “How am I doing?”

“I don’t know,” she says in frustration. “They took you to get X-rays of your head. Don’t you remember?”

“No, I was kind of out of it,” I say.

“Yeah, it must be the stuff they gave you for the pain. You looked quite loopy, drooling and mumbling something. In any case, that was a long time ago, and I haven’t seen a doctor with the X-ray results, or even a nurse.”

“Hmm,” I say worriedly. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” Mira frowns. “I’m thinking of getting you some food, and if they don’t give you some attention by the time I’m done, I’m going to go around and try to talk some sense into these people.”

The way she mentions talking to them sounds rather sinister. I wouldn’t want her to piss off my doctor at this stage. But I really wish the X-ray results would arrive, so I could find out what’s going on with me. Head trauma is nothing to sneeze at, especially for people who like to use their heads as much as I do. Also, I realize that Mira is planning to give this hospital’s staff a hard time on my behalf, which is a strange idea.

“Bert, will you keep him company while I grab him something to eat?” Mira says, interrupting my train of thought.

“Of course,” he says, getting that bashful look he always wears around girls.

“Do you want anything?” she asks him.

“No, thank you.” He blushes.

“And you, Darren?” she says. “We never made it to that breakfast.”

I consider the idea. Though my nausea has subsided a bit, I don’t yet feel like eating. Or getting up. Or doing much besides talking. The IV they have in my arm feels a little itchy, and I wonder what will happen when I need to go to the bathroom. I’d better ask a medical professional when I get hold of one. On the plus side, I’m not wearing one of those goofy hospital gowns. Probably because they needed access only to my head. It still doesn’t prevent me from looking ridiculous, of course. I can feel that my head is bandaged up like a mummy’s, probably making me look like it’s Halloween.

“No, I think I’ll pass on the breakfast for now,” I tell her. “I bet they’re about to bring me some Jell-O, the hospital food of choice.”

“I am going to get you one of those and a pudding of some kind,” she says decisively. “If you haven’t been told about the X-rays yet, what makes you think you can rely on these people for food?”

“Okay, Mira, thank you. I’ll try the pudding if they have it,” I say, looking at her in confusion. This caring side of Mira is odd and will take some getting used to. “Maybe something like apple sauce if they don’t?”

“Okay, don’t worry, I’ll get you something,” she says and turns to go.

As Mira is walking away, I notice Bert looking her up and down. For some reason, I’m annoyed at him for doing that. Then I mentally smack myself. Am I being jealous and protective of Mira?

“Dude,” Bert says as soon as Mira is out of earshot. “Is that the Mira I looked up for you? Wow, I have to say, she is so your type. Why didn’t you tell me you found her? And how did you get shot? And who’s Eugene? And Julia? What the hell is going on?”

I sigh and concoct a story for Bert. I can’t tell him anything about Readers or Pushers, so the story focuses on other things instead. I tell him that I stopped by Mira’s house and that her brother and I ended up being friendly. It’s almost what happened. Then I tell Bert how I learned about Mira and Eugene’s parents being murdered by some unsavory Russian characters. I explain the murder by saying that their father had problems with someone back in the motherland—which could be true. I also say that Mira’s quest for revenge backfired, and she got kidnapped as a result—which is false, but a much simpler explanation than the truth.

“You participated in a rescue? Is that how you got shot?” Bert says incredulously. “Are you crazy?”

“Actually, no,” I say. “I was unscathed during that rescue. That was yesterday. This shot, obviously, happened today. I think it’s safe to assume these thugs were from the same group as yesterday’s kidnappers, though. They tried to kill her or her brother this time around, but missed and got me instead. I could actually use your help with this, Bert. There’s someone I want to ask you to look up using your skills. Someone who might be giving orders in that organization.”

“Yes, sure. I mean, they shot you, so it’s the least I can do,” Bert says. “Just never mention my name to those sorts of people.”

I assure him that I’m not going to mention his name in the unlikely event that the gangsters and I have a friendly face-to-face chat. I then give him the name, Arkady, and the phone number I got the other day. I guess there is a silver lining to getting shot. I was out of favors with Bert when it comes to what he rightfully considers shady hacker activities, but he’s not thinking about favors right now.