Defender by Todd G X

Author:Todd, G X [Todd, G X]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2017-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

THE PART BETWEEN PARTS

The Man Who Was Lazarus

CHAPTER 1

Pilgrim wished he were dead. If it would mean the abominable hacking pain in his head would disappear, then he would gladly offer himself up to whoever the hell was in charge of hell these days and dance a merry jig to gain their favour. Anything – anything – to make it stop.

He had been cold for a long time, but the cold meant nothing in comparison to the molten agony flowing up his neck into his skull. It was like someone had chopped his head clean off and replaced it with the searing ball of the sun. Although shivers racked his frame and made his teeth chatter, his head flared hot with rancid pain, throbbing in sync with his too-fast heartbeat.

At some point he had managed to roll on to his back, and then the second fiery sun in the sky jabbed hot pokers into his eyes.

He lay there for what felt like months with the pain, and when he finally did manage to lift one hand to probe at the back of his head, his fingers found a pulpy gouge behind his right ear. Bone shifted sickly underneath his gentle pressing, and pain exploded like a nebula. He flinched rigid and cried out, a high, piercing cry like that of a wounded animal. Then blessed darkness claimed him once more.

When he awoke, and found he still wasn’t dead, he groaned miserably. The sound didn’t last long, though, because his throat wasn’t a throat any more – it was a long strip of broken glass. Swallowing was impossible and breathing was difficult. Air whistled down his windpipe.

He eventually became tired of the pain and the inability to breathe properly and his burning need for water. So he sat up.

He regretted it immediately. A stabbing sensation pierced his side, and he clamped a hand over his ribs. He dry-heaved, and that small, convulsive, peristaltic movement set his head to thumping in sickly waves. He waited and, when it passed, the pain became a fraction more tolerable.

He somehow found himself standing, weaving and blinking in the sun. He squinted at the wrecked car in front of him. Blinked again, because his left eye didn’t seem to be focusing properly. His right eye was still good, and he used that to study the broken glass, the blood, the tyreless wheel rim. That should mean something to him, he knew, but his scrambled brain wouldn’t let him grasp on to the what or the how or the why. And it hurt to think too hard, so he let it go. He stumbled over to the wheel tracks in the soft dirt at the edge of the road. Knew there had been a second vehicle here. That meant something, too.

He needed water. That was his first concern. Now that he was standing up, his wanting to die had shifted down the list a place or two. He gazed back towards town. It was within walking distance. He squinted far up the road, turned around and squinted the other way.

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