S. W. Clarke - 02 Mortality Bound by S. W. Clarke & Ramy Vance

Author:S. W. Clarke & Ramy Vance [Clarke, S. W. & Vance, Ramy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keep Evolving Studios
Published: 2019-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

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When I went to sleep, it came fitful and restless. I dreamt of leaping into the ocean again, racing to the netting surrounding the island. But this time it wasn’t I who swam to its edges … it was the netting which came to me.

Closing in. Encircling. A tightening grip.

I woke to screaming.

Justin.

The clock on the wall said it was just after six in the morning. When I ran into the medical room, Galaxy stood over a writhing Justin on the bed. Her hands were set to his chest, restraining him from rolling off onto the floor.

I rushed over to hold his arms down. He jerked like he was being pummeled by an invisible force, and red marks had appeared on his torso, his arms, his legs. I recognized some of them as knuckle prints.

Hercules, wherever he was, was being tortured by the World Army.

Galaxy fixed terrified eyes on me. “What should we do?”

“It will stop,” I said, more out of hope than belief, as I gripped his arms. It has to stop. “Just keep him from hurting himself until it does.”

Cupid appeared in the doorway, tying his loincloth around his waist. “What the—”

“It’s Hercules,” I said. “They’re hurting him.”

Cupid understood at once. He flew over to the end of the bed to survey the scene. “What if I shoot Justin with one of my arrows?”

I was too distracted by my boyfriend’s screaming to fully consider Cupid’s question. “How would that help?”

“I don’t know,” Cupid said. “It might end up being like a kinky fetish for him. You know how some people like a little pain.”

I groaned as Justin jerked with another invisible fist to his side. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious!” Cupid shot back.

“Just hold his legs,” I said. Justin’s legs were flailing; he kicked over a tray beside the bed, its contents spilling over the floor.

Cupid sat on Justin’s legs, but he only ended up clinging onto his ankle as the pint-sized demigod was thrown around. “Drug him up!” he cried.

Before I could answer, Justin spit up blood. It shot out of his mouth and spattered all over my face.

“They broke something,” Galaxy said. “A rib, maybe.” She tried to inspect Justin’s ribcage, but it was impossible with how much he was suffering.

Along the wall lay an assortment of medical equipment, gauze, all sorts of bottles … and morphine.

Bingo.

I grabbed up the bottle of morphine. “Where are the syringes?”

Galaxy pointed to the fallen tray. “On the ground.”

I knelt and grabbed one up. When I’d filled the syringe completely, I handed it to Galaxy. “I probably couldn’t hit his vein even if he wasn’t moving.”

Galaxy accepted the syringe, and Cupid and I held one of Justin’s arms as still as we could as she tried to shoot the morphine into his arm. GoneGods was he strong. I felt like Cupid trying to hold onto one of Justin’s legs.

Finally, Galaxy found her opening. In a moment of stillness, she drove the needle in and pressed the plunger.

After a few seconds, Justin slowed.

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