Blood Witness by Hitt Dave

Blood Witness by Hitt Dave

Author:Hitt, Dave [Hitt, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Big Schtick
Published: 2012-10-31T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 17

The next morning the pain woke him more efficiently than any alarm clock could have.

He felt a hot sword twisting in his stomach, his guts wrapping around the blade. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a hoarse whisper. His throat felt like it had been sandpapered.

Every tiny movement hurt. Not moving hurt. Every muscle was burning as if there were acid flowing through his veins.

There was a blackness around the edge of his vision that grew with the pain. Soon he was blind.

He passed out.

He woke up to the sound of his mom knocking on the door. He had to strain to hear her voice.

“Chris, are you awake? Time to get up.”

He tried to speak but couldn't. She knocked again.

“Chris?” She opened the door. “Chris? Come on, wake up. Did you forget that you broke your alarm clock yesterday? You're going to be very late for school.”

He wondered if she could see the pain in his face. “Chris, you look like you're sick again. Are you OK?”

He shook his head no. Steel needles pierced his neck. He could feel his brain moving from side to side inside his skull.

“Let me get the thermometer.”

It seemed like she was gone forever. When she finally returned with it he couldn't taste the glass. He could barely feel it in his mouth. His mother sat on the bed, looking concerned as she ran her hand over his forehead.

“Please don't do that, Mom” he rasped. “It hurts.”

She took the thermometer and her eyes widened as she read it. “One hundred and four. Chris, you are very sick. I'm going to call the doctor's as soon as they open.”

“No” he whispered. “No doctors. Please mom.” She looked at him strangely.

She came back with some ice in a washcloth, and gently pressed it to his forehead. It burned. He tried to scream but couldn't. His mother saw the pain in his face and pulled the ice away.

“Maybe we shouldn't wait for the doctor's office to open.” she said. “I think we should take you to the emergency room.”

“It's OK, Mom, really. Just call when they open.”

Chris wished he knew what time it was. The doctor's office opened at 8:30. He couldn't quite remember why, but it was important to stay away from doctors. He pointed to his wrist.

“You want to know the time? It's eight-fifteen. I'll call Dr. Melnick in a few minutes, and we can find out what's wrong with you.”

Stephen, a bit late as usual, yelled a good-bye from the living room and left for work.

Ten minutes later the phone rang.

His mother went into the hallway to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said a deep female voice on the other end. “I'm with a group of handicapped people earning a living by selling amazingly efficient light bulbs. They're guaranteed to save you money. Please understand we are not looking for charity, but are trying to support ourselves...”

“I'm not interested.”

“But you are, Mrs. Chamberlin, you are very interested. You are incredibly interested...”

When Sandy hung up the phone she knew her son was going to be fine.



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