Halfway Inhuman by Jenny Iroh

Author:Jenny Iroh [Iroh , Jenny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Wiki was off the bed and down the hallway before I realized I couldn’t feel most of my body. The bedside clock read 5 p.m. We had literally slept the day away.

Phelps rose off me and crawled, hands-and-knees to the edge of the bed. He was able to lower himself down and stand.

He wasn’t kidding about contact. A network of muscle had grown in during the nine-hour nap. It sort of looked like one of the diagrams in an anatomy text book, or one of those sick-ass sculptures artists make from dead people.

The hole was still there and still looked oozy, but the shoulder had healed over and looked like a bad scrape.

He looked over at me, my right hand was flopping back and forth and I pinched it with my left. Because Wiki and Phelps slept on me, I had zero circulation for lots of hours.

“Are you OK, Natalie?” he asked.

There was a shriek from downstairs.

“Uh, I can’t feel my legs or right hand and my spine is about to crack in two from your headboard,” I bitched. “But other than that, I’m dandy.”

I flopped one useless leg over the side of the bed and lifted it up and down a few times, smacking it on the floor. Right about then, my hand decided to wake up.

“Aaahhh!” I hollered, flexing my hand. “Pins and needles.”

Phelps turned and headed out the door. I kept pumping my right hand, and I used my left hand to rub my left leg. Sensation began to creep slowly through the leg. I put a little weight on it and almost cried out as the tingly-pain poured in.

“One limb to go,” I muttered as I flexed and moved the left leg and began massaging the right.

It took a few minutes for my legs to wake up enough for me to walk. Felt like quadruple that. Wiki was hollering at someone, so I assumed things were OK.

I stretched and went into the bathroom.

I washed my face and used my finger as a toothbrush for the third time in two days. I looked like chipped beef on toast, extra chipped beef. I used a washcloth to take off the top layer of yuk off my neck and pits.

There were dark circles under my eyes, and a bruise ran all the way up the side of my neck. It disappeared under the rats’ nest of hair balled around my head.

The wounds from Grennon and Ward, however, were gone.

I didn’t heal like Phelps did; but apparently, I was a little harder to hurt than I’d originally thought.

I liked that idea. Seeing as I had no kickass powers, fast-healing was a definite bonus.

I went back to examining my horrific state.

My button-up dress shirt was bloody, stained, torn, and filthy, and Phelps’ pajamas were dragging the floor.

No way to send mixed signals looking like this. Hell, I’d be lucky if I didn’t spend the next 20 years in forced sex exile because of this look.

I went downstairs to see what fresh hell I’d brought into Phelps’ and Wiki’s lives.

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