“–attempted break-in at 3:30 this morning. Security Captain Teague MacKenzie–”

Shane groaned and rolled over on the couch. The perky newscaster’s voice wasn’t helping his headache.

“–one suspect into custody,” a man’s Scottish-accented voice said. “We are using every tool at our disposal to track down accomplices–”

Shane barked a laugh, which also didn’t help his headache. Nothing like having one of Triptych’s pet psychics rooting around your head. Annoyed by the newscast, he switched the television off with a thought. Guess I fell asleep. Better than lying awake nauseous–

But he wasn’t nauseous. Shane slowly sat up, keeping the comforter he’d dragged from the bedroom wrapped around him. His stomach felt fine, if empty. Not that he had an appetite.

Encouraged but puzzled, Shane grabbed the notebook and pen he’d left on the coffee table. He flipped to the last page of his log entries and wrote:

10/3        6:10 p.m.        4         quarters

The “4″ in the third column broke the string of twos and threes from the past few days. Thanks in part to his log, he’d realized that his addiction was location-based somehow. The more time Shane spent away from his quarters and the lab, the better he felt. When Jake and Rose were out he’d torn his quarters apart looking for something. All he’d found were a few dust bunnies, one of Jake’s long lost toy trucks, and $0.27.

By avoiding his quarters as much as possible Shane had increased the time between Joon fixes from two to four days. Joon had noticed, of course, and now was punishing him. The discomfort had been worth it until Harris took Jake away.

Shane scowled at the four he’d scrawled. The damned thing was taunting him. Not being nauseous was wonderful, but it made no sense. He’d been flat on his back on the couch for most of the day. What was different?

The air conditioning kicked on, wafting cool air over Shane. He shivered despite the comforter, then looked up at the air vent. Location.

As a plan began to form in his mind, Shane got cleaned up to visit Joon. One more fix, he thought gleefully, and I’ll be free of her.

 


Editor’s note: Sorry this post is on the short side. Part 14 will make up for it.