High Stakes

Part Thirteen

Part 13

SANG:

I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi. Not that I actually know what that feels like, but I can imagine. Everything feels heavy, like my limbs have each gained a hundred pounds, and I have to strain to even realize they’re still all attached. I can’t open my eyes, but I try. My eyelids are probably around eighty pounds. They have to be, there’s no other explanation.

“She’s moving!” I hear a voice as if it’s coming through a horribly connected phone service--can you hear me now?

Then I hear more noises, although I can’t place them. It sounds as if I’m in the forest, and there are little critters rustling through the underbrush. I don’t like it. It’s eerie, and I’m in no condition to run or defend myself if I need to.

My panic rises, hearing more noises, closer. Fight or flight takes over and adrenaline surges through my sore body, my heavy chest rising and falling at a rapid rate, but I still can’t move, still can’t open my eyes!

“Sang, shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe,” this voice is even fainter than the first. I know it, but from where?

Then there’s a light, gentle pressure on my hand, and electricity surges through my body, originating at the touch and shoving upward until it seems to stab into my heart.

I gasp and jolt upright, eyes shooting open. Then I wince from the brightness and ensuing pains in my abdomen from the jerky movement. I clutch at my stomach, groaning, and push forward until I’m curled into a ball, protecting the agonized area. The groan makes me realize that my throat is on fire, too. I whimper and mewl; pathetic.

“Why hasn’t she healed yet? It’s been hours!” the voice isn’t through a bubble anymore, and it’s loud--too loud!--echoing in my head. I moan softly.

“Can you use your inside voice? Jesus, North,” I hear a grumble and then a thud followed by an “oof.”

I open my eyes to slits to adjust to the light, slowly opening them more when I feel comfortable with it.

“I need to examine her. I think it’s best for all of you to leave,” a steady voice comes from right next to me. I open my eyes fully now, still a bit squinty, and find the source. Oh! Dr Green! No--Dr Sean.

As soon as I see him, I look around at my surroundings, slowly scanning the area counterclockwise. They’re all here--my boys. My boys that I doubted. Doubted? A memory pushes at my brain, but my heart pounds faster, telling me I don’t want it. I shove it back down, continuing my perusal.

Very tired and pale looking: Kota, Nathan, North, Silas, Gabriel, Luke, Victor, and at my immediate side--Mr Blackbourne. No--Owen.

His metallic eyes are dark. Not their normal silver but a duller iron. He looks as if he feels like I do--completely worn and exhausted. He stares at me, his eyes searching, as if he wants to crawl into me and stay there forever.

“Hello? Am I speaking Japanese right now? Get out. I need to do a follow-up,” Dr Sean starts toward the guys, holding his hands out, shooing them out of the room, ignoring the grumbles and angry muttering.

That’s when I realize that I’m at Nathans’, lying in his bed. Hmm. That means they moved me from my house--WHAM! The memory I pushed back before slams through my mental walls. All of the breath rushes out of me.

“Breathe, Sang! With me--in, out, in, out,” Dr Sean’s suddenly sitting in front of me, grabbing my hand and putting it on his chest so I can feel the rhythms of his breaths. I focus on my hand, on the heat and movement beneath it. In. Out. In. Out.