Not So Different

Chapter 17

I thought I had been at the Tea Partier strong hold for around a week.  Time was hard to tell when you can't see if it's light or dark outside and meals come at irregular intervals.  Plus, when you're in immense pain, hours become long and twisted. 

I was back at the glass and concrete cell that Jet and I had first been placed in.  It was only the third time I had been back in the cell after the guards had taken us away handcuffed the first time.  I was alone.  I prayed Jet was not enduring what I had just hours prior.  I hoped she was okay.  As I sat on the concrete floor I tried to wrap the shallow gash running in a ragged line up my arm with a strip of my ratty t-shirt.  I had washed it out with some water that the bird-girl had brought in with my bowl of gruel just about an hour prior.  I hoped it wouldn't get infected. 

I could only imagine what I looked like.  I knew from the throbbing around my right eye that it was blackened.  There was clean cut running along the left side of my jaw and a nasty bruise turning yellow on my collar bone.  My arms and legs were marred by occasional bruises  and electrical burns.  Argon's 'attitude adjustment' sessions were very unpleasant and his little lab coat thug that carried them out was a sociopath. 

I was in the middle of inspecting a particularly nasty bruise on my stomach when the metal door to the cell was opened with a series of metallic clicks.  I expected that it was bird-girl coming to pick up my empty gruel bowl.  Instead I saw two guards pulling something between them.  Heaving, they threw their load into the cell and it landed with a thud and a moan.  With a start I realized it was Jet.  I hurried over to her before the metal door slammed shut. 

"Jet," I cried as I knelt down next to her, pulling head into my lap.  Her eyelids fluttered and she mumbled something unintelligible but other than that I got no response.  I looked her over.  She had a bruise on her left temple and a shallow slice above her eye on the same side.  She had a few bruises, nicks, and burns over her arms and legs but nothing life threatening.  A huge, fresh black and blue bruise peeked between the hem of her shirt and her bottoms.  A small but rather deep cut was just below her collar bone and she had a few bruises on her neck.  I figured the head injury was the cause of her unconsciousness.  "Come on Jet," I shook her gently.  "You need to wake up."  It wasn't good to sleep with head injuries.  "Please, Jet," I pleaded. 

Jet's eyes gradually opened and her eyes focused.  "Chris,"  she croaked out and a wave of relief washed over me.  I bent down and kissed her on the forehead.  She smiled.  "I guess kisses really do make boo-boos better."

I let out a strained chuckle.  "I think some clean water and improvised bandages might work better," I told her and reached for the water and the strips of cloth I'd made from my jacket.  She tried to sit up and let out a hiss of pain.  I laid a hand on her shoulder.  "Don't try to move too much, it wil only make it worse."

"Okay," she consented and I began to clean some of her worse wounds.  I wished there was something I could do for her head but I knew there was nothing to help that.  I quickly soaked a corner of a piece of cloth in the cup of water and wiped away the dried blood around the cuts; one looked a little red and puffy so I cleaned in well to keep it from getting infected.  Once done, I wrapped the worse burns and lacerations in jacket strips, trying hard to tie off the knots as gently as possible.  I heard Jet gasp in pain a few times but she never cried out ar yelled, even when I cleaned the blood flecks off of her bruised temple where they had run from her eye wound.  I was reminded of how strong she was. 

"So, am I all fixed up now?"  Jet asked as I tied off the last bandage.  I nodded in response and she struggled into a sitting position, crossing her legs Indian style.  "Are you okay?"  She asked me.  I looked at her confused.