Read Online Nefarious (The Blackwell Files Book 1) by Mr. Steven F. Freeman - Free Book Online
Authors: Mr. Steven F. Freeman
Ads: Link
it,” confirmed Kamaal.
Alton turned towards Mastana. “I didn’t know she came yesterday, but yes, she’s a friend of mine. I agree with you; she’s very nice, especially to those of us recovering from injuries.”
When Alton had first taken a seat at her bedside, Mastana hadn’t seemed to notice the cane leaning against his chair. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she gazed upon it as well as the black, Velcro brace encircling Alton’s left thigh. Was she realizing the effort he must have undergone to carry her inside from the bazaar?
“I have to return to my job now,” said Alton, glancing at his watch. “Would you like me to visit you later?”
Mastana nodded vigorously. Alton empathized with the cheer the child clearly felt in discovering she would no longer have to endure her recovery in virtual isolation.
“Okay—I work pretty long hours, but I’ll stop by as often as I can, probably around this time of day or a little after seven p.m.”
“Thank you,” said Mastana. “I will like to see you again.”
The next evening, Alton stopped by the camp hospital after his work shift ended. After rounding up Rahim, another interpreter, he entered Mastana’s room quietly in case she was sleeping.
She looked up and visibly brightened when she saw him. “Alton!” she said with a charming, melodic accent.
Via the interpreter, Alton greeted her. After unshouldering his backpack, Alton withdrew an object from it and passed it to her. Her eyes lit up as she cradled the tablet computer.
“I sit at my work computer twelve hours a day,” said Alton, “so I don’t use this very much. I had MI install some applications in Arabic.” Mastana periodically hugged the device to her chest as Alton explained how to use the Wi-Fi available to camp civilians.
Alton could see she was anxious to use the small computer, so he stood up to depart.
“Are you leaving already?” asked Mastana, a worried expression crossing her brow.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” reassured Alton. “I thought you wanted to send your mother a message.”
She began, “I do, but first…” She stopped, her eyes welling with tears. Alton turned to the interpreter, who shrugged.
After a long sniff, Mastana continued. “The lady—your friend—comes to visit me again last night. She tells me how you save me in the bazaar. You are injured, but you carry me inside to the doctor. How can I say thank you for that?” She buried her face in her hands and cried outright.
The gratitude touched a tender chord in Alton. He leaned over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Just get better. Oh—here is my e-mail address,” he said, handing her a slip of paper. “Even if I can’t come by your room, you can always send me a message. Maybe the interpreters can help you with the message.” He looked up and saw Rahim nodding.
“I will tell my mother about you—how you take care of me…again,” sobbed Mastana.
He patted her back. “If you saw someone in need, you’d help them, right?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
“That’s all I did. Maybe one day, you’ll have a chance to help someone, too.”
The two conversed for a few minutes more. Mastana regained her composure and was once again giddy with the tablet computer by the time Alton left.
As he hobbled back to his barracks, Alton was unsure which of the two survivors had benefitted most from the meeting: Mastana or himself.
CHAPTER 16
Research Triangle Park, North Carolina
Jeffrey Finch, director of Research and Development for Briggsfield Pharmaceuticals, stood before his company’s Board of Directors. He had just finished his drug-development proposal and awaited their response.
“Mr. Finch,” said Doctor Chan, a Board member. “As much as I admire your passion for this project, I have some serious concerns. We have to have a reasonable chance of turning a profit on all new projects. How much of a problem is rabies anymore? I thought it had been
Alton turned towards Mastana. “I didn’t know she came yesterday, but yes, she’s a friend of mine. I agree with you; she’s very nice, especially to those of us recovering from injuries.”
When Alton had first taken a seat at her bedside, Mastana hadn’t seemed to notice the cane leaning against his chair. The girl’s eyes grew wide as she gazed upon it as well as the black, Velcro brace encircling Alton’s left thigh. Was she realizing the effort he must have undergone to carry her inside from the bazaar?
“I have to return to my job now,” said Alton, glancing at his watch. “Would you like me to visit you later?”
Mastana nodded vigorously. Alton empathized with the cheer the child clearly felt in discovering she would no longer have to endure her recovery in virtual isolation.
“Okay—I work pretty long hours, but I’ll stop by as often as I can, probably around this time of day or a little after seven p.m.”
“Thank you,” said Mastana. “I will like to see you again.”
The next evening, Alton stopped by the camp hospital after his work shift ended. After rounding up Rahim, another interpreter, he entered Mastana’s room quietly in case she was sleeping.
She looked up and visibly brightened when she saw him. “Alton!” she said with a charming, melodic accent.
Via the interpreter, Alton greeted her. After unshouldering his backpack, Alton withdrew an object from it and passed it to her. Her eyes lit up as she cradled the tablet computer.
“I sit at my work computer twelve hours a day,” said Alton, “so I don’t use this very much. I had MI install some applications in Arabic.” Mastana periodically hugged the device to her chest as Alton explained how to use the Wi-Fi available to camp civilians.
Alton could see she was anxious to use the small computer, so he stood up to depart.
“Are you leaving already?” asked Mastana, a worried expression crossing her brow.
“Not if you don’t want me to,” reassured Alton. “I thought you wanted to send your mother a message.”
She began, “I do, but first…” She stopped, her eyes welling with tears. Alton turned to the interpreter, who shrugged.
After a long sniff, Mastana continued. “The lady—your friend—comes to visit me again last night. She tells me how you save me in the bazaar. You are injured, but you carry me inside to the doctor. How can I say thank you for that?” She buried her face in her hands and cried outright.
The gratitude touched a tender chord in Alton. He leaned over and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Just get better. Oh—here is my e-mail address,” he said, handing her a slip of paper. “Even if I can’t come by your room, you can always send me a message. Maybe the interpreters can help you with the message.” He looked up and saw Rahim nodding.
“I will tell my mother about you—how you take care of me…again,” sobbed Mastana.
He patted her back. “If you saw someone in need, you’d help them, right?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
“That’s all I did. Maybe one day, you’ll have a chance to help someone, too.”
The two conversed for a few minutes more. Mastana regained her composure and was once again giddy with the tablet computer by the time Alton left.
As he hobbled back to his barracks, Alton was unsure which of the two survivors had benefitted most from the meeting: Mastana or himself.
CHAPTER 16
Research Triangle Park, North Carolina
Jeffrey Finch, director of Research and Development for Briggsfield Pharmaceuticals, stood before his company’s Board of Directors. He had just finished his drug-development proposal and awaited their response.
“Mr. Finch,” said Doctor Chan, a Board member. “As much as I admire your passion for this project, I have some serious concerns. We have to have a reasonable chance of turning a profit on all new projects. How much of a problem is rabies anymore? I thought it had been
Similar Books
