Rise of the Syndicate by Drew Avera

Author:Drew Avera [Avera, Drew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AREVA
Published: 2019-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

20

Castor

Pain scorched through my body as my nerve receptors sprang to life, connecting my insides with my outsides like an electronic bridge sending signals to my brain. For the first time in months, I preferred the burning, sharp ice pick to the back of my eye over what I felt now.

"So, you're going with Castor now, huh?"

I nodded.

"Well, Castor, take a swig of this," Halem said, handing me a small, dark bottle of liquid. I had no idea what it was, but I downed it anyway. "Not all of it," he spat, yanking the bottle from my hand, causing some of the contents to pour out onto my face.

I glared at him with derision. "Why not?"

"There's enough in here to put an elephant to sleep," he said, screwing the lid back onto it. "I said swig, not drink the bottle."

"You have no idea how much pain I'm in," I replied through an exhale.

Halem placed a hand on my bare shoulder and brought the tweezers near the wound. "I can imagine it will only get worse once I start digging."

"Maybe downing the bottle is a good idea. If I'm asleep, I won't kill you for hurting me."

He eyed me warily but showed no other signs of nervousness. In one part of my mind, I could tell he was uncomfortable being near me, the man who put his wife to death. Something about the way he looked at me made me think he was digging for the man he once knew, as if I might make a miraculous return as Doran, instead of the monster they created.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take. Now, lay down and look the other way."

"Why do I need to look the other way?" I asked as I complied with his first order.

Without replying, he drove the sharp tweezers into the open wound and grabbed something hard. I felt a wave of nausea and fire wash over me as he pulled the round out of my shoulder. I cried out in pain, immediately biting my tongue in the process as I writhed on the makeshift gurney comprised of two desks shoved together at the back entrance of the precinct.

Halem took a huge risk coming here with me, but as he said, it was the only place with medical supplies he had access to. The Agency, and the Guard, would both be looking for us at the hospital. This plan would at least buy us some time, and weapons.

The sound of the metal shrapnel falling into a bowl pulled my eyes to it. The object was larger than I expected. Of course, the ammunition was designed to expand and stop soon after striking an object. This was designed to prevent a stray round from crippling the dome and possibly destroying our habitat. It also made shooting someone a ground for unethical treatment. Here I was, three shots into my upper torso, bleeding like a sieve, but still standing.

Relatively.

"That's the last one," he said, yanking off the surgical gloves and dropping them in a trash receptacle.

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