Dead Harvest Read Free Page A

down the hall, flashing the nurse at the station a smile as I passed. She flushed and returned the favor. In my line of work, I don't get looked at that way often. Almost a shame the assignment was so easy; it'd be a waste to ditch this skin-suit so soon.
      As I neared the end of the hall, I glanced back toward the nurses' station. The nurse was clacking away at a computer terminal, her back to me. I ducked into the nearest room. In the bed was an elderly gentleman – his eyes closed, his pallor gray. A tube snaked from his mouth to a machine beside the bed that accordioned up and down, pumping breath into his lungs.
      I approached the bed, my bare feet silent on the tiled floor. The only sounds in the room were the blip of his heart monitor and the grim, mechanical hiss of the respirator. I took the man's hand in mine. It was cold and dry. At the end of one finger was a small white clip, a wire running from it to the tangle of machinery beside him.
      I grabbed the wire and yanked free the clip, letting it fall to the floor as I strode out of the room. A shrill monotone pierced the air as the heart monitor flatlined. Alarms sounded at the nurses' station, and I was buffeted by medical personnel as they rushed past me down the hall.
      As diversions go, they don't get any easier than that. Time was I'd have had to almost kill the guy to get that kind of rise out of everybody. Now all you have to do is unhook a wire. I only hoped Kate's guard would be as easily distracted.
      I snatched a chart at random from the nurses' station and set out for Kate's room. I strode with purpose toward the door, thinking doctorly thoughts. You'd be surprised how often that sort of thing works.
      This time, no such luck. The cop stood as I approached, sidestepping in front of me as I tried to shoulder past.
      "Where the hell you think you're going?"
      "I'm here to see the patient," I replied, brandishing the chart by way of evidence.
      He scowled. "You ain't her usual doctor."
      "I'm from Neurology. They called me in for a consult."
      The cop looked me up and down, eyes lingering on my bare feet. His hand crept toward the gun on his belt. "I'm gonna need to see some ID."
      I lunged forward, slamming him against the doorjamb. His hand found the gun. Steel scraped leather as it slid free of its holster. I pressed my hand to his chest and reached inside. His eyes went wide as I clenched tight his soul.
      "David," I said. "She knows. She knows what you did to him." Somewhere, an eternity from the swirling blackness where we stood, a gun clattered to the floor.
      I withdrew my grasp, and David crumpled. He was shaking, whimpering. Tears streaked his pallid face.
      "No," David whispered.
      "You know it's true, or I would not."
      "No," he repeated. "No no no no no!" He scurried backward along the wall, his gun and his assignment forgotten. He scrambled to his feet and took off at a dead run, not looking back.
      Inside, the room was quiet. Just the steady blip of the heart monitor, the soft tap of the IV drip, and the gentle sigh of Kate's breathing. She was younger than I expected – she couldn't have been more than seventeen. And Kate was beautiful. Her auburn hair spilled across the pillow like a thousand adolescent fantasies, and though her eyes fluttered in dream, her face carried no hint of worry or concern.
      I'd gladly give a limb to have dreams like hers, I thought. But then, these limbs weren't mine to give.
      I approached the bed, caressing her cheek a moment before resting my hand on her breastbone. "Sorry," I said. "It's nothing personal."
      I reached inside. My head was suddenly filled with light – blinding, beautiful. I clenched shut my eyes against it, but it wasn't any use. Still it streamed in, the purest white. Not devoid of color – full of it. And with it her song. So beautiful. So sweet. I staggered backward, blind and helpless. My hand pulled free, and the light and