Ngyun nodded again, still looking at that spot. “Right,” he said. He turned after a moment and took off down the hall. Archie watched him go. He had one more thing he wanted to do before he went to the pharmacy.

*   *   *

Susan was lying in a bed, hooked up to all sorts of monitors. A nurse was busy typing up notes on the room’s computer. Susan smiled sleepily at Archie.

He stood for a moment in the doorway.

“Flannigan is okay,” he said.

Susan’s eyes opened wider and she gave him a thumbs-up.

He didn’t stay.

“Nice sweatpants,” he heard Susan call.

Chapter 63

CHAPTER

63

The pills Fergus had given him came in a blister pack. They were oval and white, and if Archie squinted they looked like Vicodin. He slipped his mask aside, took his first dose, and washed it down with a swig of bottled water. Then he punched the rest out and put them in his pocket.

He missed taking pills.

“What are you thinking about?” Henry asked. He was sitting up in bed, propped up on a pillow. His head was freshly shaved and his scalp gleamed under the hospital lights. Claire had pulled her chair close to the bed and held Henry’s hand.

Archie coughed. “I should get out of here,” he said. He didn’t even know when the last time he slept was.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Claire said.

Anne appeared from the hallway. “I’ll do it,” she said.

Archie looked up at her. “I don’t want to talk.”

“I don’t want you to cough on me,” Anne said. “We both may have to compromise.”

*   *   *

Anne had rented a convertible red Mustang.

The rain slapping against the ragtop sounded like a flag snapping in a hard wind.

“It’s dark,” Anne said.

“It’s always dark,” said Archie.

The surgical mask was on his lap. They were driving down Martin Luther King, Jr., Boulevard. A news van going too fast passed them at an intersection, heading toward the river.

“Henry looks good,” Anne said.

Archie could see the helicopters in the distance, but he couldn’t hear them. “Heil’s dead.”

Anne looked straight ahead out the windshield. “It wasn’t a trade,” she said.

The glowing towers of the convention center speared the dark sky.

“He liked watching people die,” Archie said.