Bryce made no sense to Kristin. Why would a terrorist care if he hurt people or not? That was the whole point, wasn’t it? The Greenmen were exacting revenge for how humans supposedly raped Mother Earth. That’s what she’d always heard.
The terrorist posing as a doctor studied Naveen’s broken arm for a moment. “I can heal that, if you want. Decide now. I need to leave.”
Naveen’s brow furrowed as he considered Bryce and his bloody hand and knife. His eyes turned to Petra, who made the tiniest of nods. “Okay,” Naveen said.
Bryce nodded in acknowledgment, drawing the flat of his dagger across the leg of his black jeans to wipe it clean. He tucked it into a sheath hidden under his doctor’s coat, then stepped up to Naveen. “This will only take a few seconds. Hold still. Your arm may feel warm or itchy as it heals, but it won’t hurt.”
“Uh-huh,” was Naveen’s somewhat shaky reply.
Bryce raised his bloodstained left hand, now clenched into a fist, a few inches over Naveen’s splinted arm. “Asclepius, hear my plea.”
Kristin bit her lip to hold back a nervous giggle. The tension in the hospital room, Bryce’s quiet intonation, and his silly-sounding words were almost too much. She glanced at Craig, who’d been quietly watching from his bed. He solemnly watched the terrorist supposedly cast a spell on his friend.
“Heal this man,” Bryce continued. His fist tightened, dripping blood on the bandages wrapped around Naveen’s arm. Naveen flinched, but otherwise stayed still. “I offer my blood to mend his wound.”
The trickle of blood slowed. Naveen frowned at his arm, then at Bryce, and back. “I don’t feel–”
Bryce gasped, his eyes wide, as his bloodied hand opened and slammed down on Naveen’s arm. Naveen shouted and jerked back. He stumbled into the wall, pulling Bryce along with him. “The hell?! Let go of me!”
The terrorist blanched as he fell to his knees, his hand still clamped on the other man’s arm. “Stop… stop…” he gasped.
Craig leaped out of bed and grabbed Bryce’s other arm, pulling him away from his friend. Kristin narrowly avoided colliding with him as she darted to Naveen’s side. She barely knew the Indian man, but wasn’t about to let a terrorist hurt someone who’d been kind to her. She grabbed Bryce’s wrist with one hand and Naveen’s with the other and tried to wrench them apart. When physical strength didn’t work, she added telekinesis. Still the two remained attached.
Kristin gaped at the two men. Bryce was trembling and slumped over, and Naveen panicked, his eyes dilated. “What the fuck! Get him off!”
“Naveen, sleep.” The empathic command in Petra’s words rippled over Kristin’s mental shields. His eyes closed as his body went limp. Kristin managed to get her shoulder under Naveen before he toppled over. She absently noticed that Bryce’s hand slipped free as she struggled to not fall over herself. Naveen was heavy!
Craig, who wore only a hospital gown, stepped over Bryce and ducked under Naveen’s other arm. “Put him on the bed,” he told Kristin, who happily obliged.
Once Naveen was laying down, Kristin and Craig turned to Petra. She kneeled beside Bryce, whose eyes were half open, holding his bloody hand and looking close to panic herself. “Petra?” Kristin ventured.
“I need…” Her voice cracked. “I need a minute.”
Kristin had never seen the older woman so rattled. It scared the hell out of her. “Sure,” she murmured, and turned back to Naveen. She couldn’t help Petra, but maybe she could help him.
Craig seemed to have the same idea. He gave Kristin a sympathetic smile, then untied the sling supporting Naveen’s injured arm. To her surprise, no blood stained the bandages binding Naveen’s forearm. She and Craig carefully unwound them, revealing unmarred skin. Kristin had helped bandage it two days ago; it had been swollen and bruised then.
“It worked,” Craig breathed.
“Yeah,” Kristin said, keeping her voice down. “But why…?” She didn’t bother finishing the question.
“Bryce,” Petra said gently. “You with us?”
Kristin and Craig turned around in time to see an ashen-faced Bryce manage a nod. With Petra’s help he sat up straight, wincing when his lacerated hand touched the floor. He scowled past Craig and Kristin at Naveen. “Keep that thing away from me.”
______________
Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/ashleyrosex/3873141832/
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Strandline
Science FictionStrandline is a reader-directed, sci-fi/action web serial about the teleporting subspecies Homo sapiens nictans. New episodes are posted every week or so. To learn more, see the About page on the Strandline website ( http://www.strandlineseries.com...
