Refuge Book 1 - Night of the Blood Sky by Jeremy Robinson, Jeremy Bishop Page A

tendrils. She looked tired and in pain. Water was all he could think to offer her. She sat on the cot, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.
    “Are you okay?” Radar asked.
    “I’m just dandy, Josh.”
    The venom in her voice made him pause for a moment. She wasn’t the girl he remembered. Speaking quietly, he said, “You can call me Radar.”
    Her voice softened a bit. “Thought you hated that.”
    He shrugged. “Got used to it. Everyone calls me Radar now.”
    “Mind turning down the lights, Radar?” she asked.
    “The lights?”
    “Head is killing me. The light makes it worse.”
    Radar moved to the light switch. “Sure.” He flipped the switch, dimming the light. He couldn’t make the room completely dark, though. Purple light streamed through the windows.
    “What time is it?” Avalon asked.
    “Umm, midnight, I think.”
    “What’s all the light from?” She glanced at the back wall of the station like she could see through it. “There’s nothing but trees back there.”
    Radar gave her a funny look. How could she not know? But then he remembered she’d been asleep. Or more likely, passed out. He lived with a drunk. He knew the difference between sleep and unconsciousness. One looked peaceful, the other looked like something closer to death. Yeah , he thought, she was passed out.
    “You don’t know, do you?” he asked.
    “Know what ?” She was beginning to grow agitated again. “You know what, forget it. Doesn’t matter. I barely remember the last twenty-four hours. I have no idea how I got in this cell. And I don’t really care. I found my father, right?”
    Radar nodded. “He left me in charge of you.”
    “Where is he now?”
    “Went to help the Sheriff.”
    “The Sheriff?” She closed her eyes. Shook her head. “That’s Becky now, right? I think I saw her last night...or was it tonight? Where’s Frost?”
    “With the Sheriff. Before you ask, Officer Sweeney isn’t here, either.”
    Avalon sighed and leaned her head straight back. “Please, God, don’t tell me they left you in charge.”
    “Uh, yeah,” Radar said. “Kinda did. Sorry. Can I get you some water now?”
    Avalon’s head all but fell forward. She returned to massaging her temples. “Sure. Couple of ibuprofen would be great, too.”
    Radar hesitated. Griffin had told him that Avalon was in detox. That she’d been addicted to a painkiller. And no matter what, he couldn’t get any for her. Not from a stash. Not from home if his dad had any. And not from the pharmacy. She wasn’t asking for that drug, but ibuprofen was a painkiller too.
    She must have sensed his hesitation, because she added, “I’m an Oxycontin addict, not ibuprofen.”
    “Is there a difference?”
    “Yeah,” she said. “One makes you high as a kite, the other takes care of headaches and melts your stomach.”
    Oxycontin. That was the stuff. Griffin didn’t say anything about any other drug, and just about everyone had a big bottle of ibuprofen in their medicine cabinet. Radar decided it would be okay and said, “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”
    He quickly searched the station’s kitchen drawers and found a small bottle of acetaminophen. Not the same, but it should do the trick. He tapped three pills into his hand—her headache looked bad—and put the bottle back. He then found a cold bottled water in the fridge and a chocolate pudding that probably belonged to Sweeney, who had a sweet-tooth. After locating a plastic spoon, he quickly checked on Lisa, who was watching the sun rise out the front window, then returned to the cell and presented his findings.
    He held the items through the cell bars. “Okay, three acetaminophen. Not what you asked for, but I’m pretty sure they melt your stomach, too. A bottle of water to wash it down, and a pudding to help avoid the previously mentioned stomach melting.”
    Avalon stood with a groan, but smiled when she saw the offering. “Thanks.” She took the pills with the water, tore open