Fifteen minutes after that, Jeremiah had fainted outright in the front seat and Brent was vomiting behind one of the trucks.

Chapter 39

By the time Jeremiah came to, Brent, his face a ghastly, grayish white, was visibly shaking as he attempted to bandage Jeremiah’s hand.

“Jesus, there’s a lot of blood,” he said, tearing at a strip of gauze with his teeth. “We need to get you to a hospital. This was a stupid idea.”

There was a blood-soaked towel in Jeremiah’s lap and another on the floor by his feet. He didn’t even remember seeing the blood. He figured he must have blacked out the instant the ax went down. His only recollection was of a sudden white-hot pain that seemed to engulf his entire body all at once.

“No, it’s fine,” Jeremiah managed, his head spinning. “Just use more of the gauze. Get it good and tight. It’ll be fine. God, Brent, you look worse than I do.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve never cut off someone’s finger before. And you should look in a mirror. You’re not exactly going to win any beauty contests, either.”

Jeremiah had downed two of the vodka nips before the amputation and opened a third one now with his teeth, hoping it would help to dull the fiery pain in his hand. He gave the last bottle to Brent, who drank it down without hesitation.

“Where is it?” he asked. “What did you do with my finger?”

“It’s in the lunch box with the dry ice.”

Jeremiah took the clone’s finger out of his pocket and handed it to Brent, who, at the sight of it, instantly looked like he was going to get sick again. He took it gingerly and turned his head away as he slipped it quickly into the lunch box with its twin. Jeremiah closed his eyes and put his head against the cool of the window.

“I need to get back to ViMed,” he said. “I need to talk to Scott.”

“You need to rest,” Brent told him. “I think you can afford to take a few minutes.”

“You’ll need to package that lunch box, address it. Have it ready to go. Once I’m in there, give it one hour. If you don’t hear from me by then, you mail the package, get Mel and get out of town. Understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. But let’s try to avoid that, okay? I have enough explaining to do already without telling Mel we have to leave town and go into hiding.”

An hour later Brent pulled the car over as close to the ViMed lab as he dared and turned off the engine. He didn’t want to risk being spotted by the security cameras, so Jeremiah would walk the last quarter mile or so.

“You ready for this?” Brent asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m as okay as I’m going to be,” he said, looking down at his bandaged hand. Brent had wrapped it in so much gauze it looked like he was wearing a boxing glove, which felt appropriate for what he was about to do. Even then, blood was just beginning to seep through on one side. It hurt like hell, but at least it was a dull ache now and had stopped throbbing.