Lord of the Strings-The String Bearer by Barbara Bretana - HTML preview

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Chapter 41

The walls were gray, dark and padded. I was lying on a metal slab covered with a thin foam that crinkled when I moved. Movement was in millimeters, I could not find one inch of me that did not hurt. The worst was the area under my ribs where he said he had stabbed me. The Tree‘s splinter gave both pain and pleasure, a warmth that tried to heal me and poison as it fought the Seillach‘s power. I would‘ve thought that both would meld and join but they fought each other‘s influence. Blood caked my skin and made the foam under me tacky. I tried to move my arms to rub at my eyes and my fingers curled helplessly. My mouth opened and cold air hit broken teeth, it made my face ache with sudden sharp jabs. I cried out, tried to call the Seillach and stifled the words before the glow could emanate. The door hissed open and a shadowy outline stood over me. I smelled alcohol.

"Don‘t try to speak. Or move," a man ordered. "I‘m here to clean you up. This will hurt, but I‘m not sure if you‘ll notice amid all the other damage." A needle stuck me in the ass; I hadn‘t even realized that he‘d turned me. Cold trickle down my sides as he wiped me with something that felt like steel wool but was only 4 x 4 gauze pads. "I want you in the trauma suite," he grumbled. "But the Colonel won‘t allow it. He said you wouldn‘t die. But I have my doubts. You were beaten to an inch of your life. Both of your arms are broken, both shoulders, most of your ribs and one knee is shattered. I‘m not sure about your right thigh. Your nose cheekbone and eye orbit, you have broken several of your teeth and all the fingers on your right hand. If you recover. You may never walk again. You have an abdominal puncture that may have pierced your intestines and may have nicked the kidney. He even nailed your palms to the floor. The floor of the Oval Office, for God‘s sake."

"God has nothing to do with it." I exhaled, running my tongue over my teeth. "Who are you?"

"Doctor Martini. I‘m a liaison to the CIA and the personal physician to the Vice President."

"Who‘s that?"

"Biden." He looked at me funny. Do you think you have any memory loss?" He examined my eyes. Really? As badly as I was beaten. He didn‘t think I had memory loss?

"No. I remember everything that happened to me, except for after the stun rod in the gut.

When I left this plane, Obama was President. Biden was his VP."

"Brightarm became President after the Changeover. When the Druz integrated and pushed out the invaders."

I laughed dryly, as I coughed and closed my eyes. "The Druz are the invaders." Pain made my vision dancing crazy spirals. I came to with his hand under my neck and an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose. "I told you not to talk or move," he chided. Pushing his hand away with my forearm, I mumbled around the plastic cup.

"You see a girl? With hair and eyes like mine?"

"If you don‘t shut up, I‘ll knock you out," he threatened. I tried to swing my legs and couldn‘t move. He held his palm on my chest. "Your leg is broken, mid-thigh, below the knee.

Someone jumped on them. They‘re not splinted so unless you want bone fragments as sharp as a knife. Your muscles don‘t move."

"Bless them."

"He won‘t let me."

"Then kill me," I was exhausted. I felt everything melting; shutting down a shock invaded my system.

"He will let you do that, either. I took the unit of blood from you and replaced it with two that he gave me."

Shuddering in our horror at, I stared at him. "What‘s he doing with my blood?"

"Something about controlling the tree. What tree?"

"The Tree is the repository of all the Strings." I closed my eyes.

I opened weary lids. "You have to remove the splinter in me."

"Not without a surgical suite, anesthesia and a surgical team. Besides, I‘m not even sure if you‘d make it through the surgery."

"You have to. The fate of your world, my world and all the worlds depends on it."

"You‘d bleed to death before I got into the site," he protested. "Shock alone will kill you."

I tried to laugh and grimaced instead. "Shock is killing me now. My blood pressure is dropping, my heart racing. I‘m cold, thirsty and feel like I‘m losing it. Give me a knife, I‘d do it myself only, I can‘t feel my fingers." I could see them, black, bloodied and bent at impossible angles.

"I can‘t do anything for you but make you comfortable, keep you unconscious for the Colonel."

"If you don‘t help me, you‘ll die. All of us. The world, everything you know, everything you care about and everything you love."

"What do you mean?"

I stared at him. "I‘ve tangled the strings of every living thing in existence. If I die, they‘ll be torn loose and destroyed. In a fact, I‘ve join my heartbeat to the universe‘s heartbeat. It can‘t be undone, replaced or changed. Only cut. When it‘s cut or broken, everything ceases. No world, no planes, no Druz, no Colonel. No me and no you."

"Are you crazy?" He burst out. "You think he cares? This is about power and ruling the world!"

"No," I said sadly. "It‘s about destroying everything so someone else can‘t have it all." I turned away from him and buried my face into the mattress.