TANTALUM / Chapter 3
FREE PREVIEW
Strings of sky blue light filters into my one clean eye—passes through grobs of spurked spluke and sooles. The eye not packed with sandy damp grit holds the soft-edged image of shadows that shake with each thump thump thump smashing the space between my shoulder blades. They echo in the skin over my egg-shaped rib cage. A cage that has kept me alive. A cage that keeps me trapped. My body says no, don’t inhale too soon.
In this upside down position, dirt drops from my lungs and gets hacked out my mouth with each thump. Someone wants me alive.
Gurgled voices blurt blurred words like “disinfectant” and “sterilize” as sun hot wetness pours through my cheek meat. My head knee-jerks to an upright position as more words like “shock” and “blacking out” fade from my ears.
Slipping back into a pit of pain, my eye lids flap. My tongue fingers a train of knots that runs ten teeth deep inside my cheek. A bumpy seam of wires.
Someone says, “he’s awake.”Then they say, “I’ll be back later.”
An nurse pats my skin with warm water and rags. She lifts the back of my head and brings a cool cup of water to my lips. She says in a soft tone,” here drink this. “
Tongue and throat muscles coordinate to swallow, but a rough cough spits it out. “Sorry,” I say to the nurse. A glance at her reveals something angelic.
Tell anyone what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger—you get “No one’s trying to kill you. Not here. Not now."
The Tower houses the infirmary.
"How long have I been here?" I say.
"About five hours," the Angel says.
The two day recovery limit doesn't leave me much time. They'll have me back in the pit. This opportunity can't be wasted.
You had me at "grobs of spurked spluke and sooles."
I don't speak the language but I understand it.