Okatsu by Tam MacNeil

Author:Tam MacNeil [MacNeil, Tam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Queerteen Press
Published: 2014-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

Shichi

His shoulders ache and that’s what wakes him. His shoulders, and the throbbing of his pulse at the back of his head.

He opens his eyes and tries to wipe away the crust of sleep on them but can’t. He realizes that his shoulders hurt because his hands are tied behind his back. He’s lying on his side in a cold, dark place which, presumably, must have walls and a ceiling, but it’s so dark Jao can’t make them out, just hears his own breathing coming back to him.

Jao kicks, rolls onto his belly and tucks one knee under him, then he squirms until he’s sitting up. He twists and when he does his hands smack something that moves. Someone groans, the sound so loud and unexpected that Jao jumps and swears in fright before he realizes, as his eyes adjust, that the someone in the little room with him is tied up too.

“Who’s there?”

“Name’s Jao.”

A groan, this one possibly of irritation rather than suffering. “Oh. You.”

Obviously the speaker knows Jao, and his voice is vaguely familiar, but Jao can’t place it.

“You tied up?” he asks, needlessly.

“Yes.”

Well, that’s to be expected. Jao can’t imagine anyone would be inept enough to throw two people into the same cell and not tie them both efficiently. Then again, he’s never been in a position to throw anyone in a cell before.

“Hurt?”

A pause. “I don’t think so.”

Jao goes quiet and then it’s the other man’s turn. “Where are we?”

“If I knew that…” Jao says with a shrug, then realizes the other man can’t see him. “No idea,” he finishes rather lamely.

“I don’t feel well,” the other man says. His voice has softened. He sounds a little frightened. Jao can’t blame him. If not for the throbbing in the back of his head, he’d be frightened too. “I think I’m going to be sick,” the man says.

That’s no good. “If you’re on your back you have to roll onto your side.”

He listens to the sound the other man squirming around on the floor, how his breathing goes shallow and fast.

“Did you get hit on the head?” Jao asks.

“No,” the man whispers, then swallows noisily. “I think someone put something in my tea.”

Jao breathes out a sigh. Head injuries that cause vomiting tend to also cause death, but any sleeping draught you wake up from is a good one, even if it leaves you a little hung over. He listens to the other man gulp air. His breathing breaks and he makes that terrible noise as body machinery is thrown into reverse. The sour stink of bile fills up the room. Jao hears him gasping again.

“All better?” he asks.

A harsh laugh. The man spits and then says, softly, “Forgive me.”

“Never mind,” Jao says and then remembers where he’s heard the voice before. In the rain, by the river. “It’s Masahiro, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Jao goes silent. He flexes his hands. They’re starting to feel like clubs on the ends of his arms, but at least they’re starting to feel again.

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