It was a folder, rusted and dull, but it was all she’d been able to find.
She tugged the blanket away and pulled up Ethan’s hospital gown and ran her hand along his left leg until she felt the bump on the back of his thigh.
Let her hand linger there a shade longer than she should have, hating herself for it, but God it’d been so long since she’d even touched or been touched by a man.
She’d considered telling Ethan ahead of time, but his impaired state had prevented this, and maybe that was for the best. Regardless, he was lucky. She hadn’t had the benefit of anesthesia when she’d done this to herself.
Beverly set the flashlight on the stone floor so it illuminated the backside of his left thigh.
It was covered in scars.
You couldn’t see the bump, only feel it—and just barely—if you knew exactly where to touch.
She pried open the blade, which she’d sterilized two hours ago with cotton balls and alcohol, her stomach lurching at the thought of what she had to do, praying the pain wouldn’t break his sedation.
CHAPTER 9
Ethan dreamed he’d been tied down and that something was eating his leg, taking small, probing bites that occasionally went deep enough for him to cry out in his sleep.
* * *
He slammed awake.
Groaning.
Darkness everywhere, and his left leg, high on the back of his thigh, burning with a pain he knew all too well—someone was cutting him.
For a terrible moment, he was back in that torture room with black-hooded Aashif, hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, his ankles chained to the floor, and his body taut so he couldn’t struggle, so he couldn’t even move, no matter how awful the pain.
Hands shook his shoulders.
A woman’s voice said his name.
“Ethan, you’re all right. It’s over.”
“Please stop, oh God, please stop.”
“You’re safe. I got it out.”
He registered a splash of light, blinked several times until it sharpened into focus.
A flashlight beam shone on the floor.
In the indirect light, he glimpsed stone walls, two crypts, a stained-glass window, and then it all came roaring back.
“You know where you are?” Beverly asked.
His leg hurt so much he thought he was going to throw up.
“My leg...something’s wrong—”
“I know. I had to cut something out of it.”
His head was clearing, the hospital, the sheriff, his attempt to leave town all coming back, the memories trying to reassemble themselves into a sequence that made sense. He thought he’d seen Kate as well, but wasn’t sure. That piece felt too much like a dream, or a nightmare.
With newfound clarity, the pain in his leg was making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Beverly lifted the flashlight and let it shine on her right hand, where between her thumb and first finger, she held something that resembled a microchip, specks of drying blood still caught up in the semiconductor.
“What is that?” he asked.
“How they monitor and track you.”
“That was in my leg?”
“They’re embedded in everyone’s.”
“Give it to me.”
“Why?”
“So I can stomp it into pieces.”
“No, no, no. You don’t want to do that. Then they’ll know you removed it.” She handed it to him. “Just ditch it in the cemetery when we leave.”
“Won’t they find us in here?”
“I’ve hidden here with the chip before. These thick stone walls disrupt the signal. But we can’t stay here long. They can track the chip to within a hundred yards of where the signal drops.”
Ethan struggled to sit up. He folded back the blanket to uncover a small pool of blood glistening on stone under the flashlight beam. More red eddies trickled out of an incision site on the back of his leg. He wondered how deep she’d had to dig. Felt light-headed, his skin achy and clammy with fever.
“You have something in the bag to close this wound?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Just duct tape.”
“Get it. Better than nothing.”
Beverly pulled the duffel bag over and thrust her hand inside.
Ethan said, “Did I dream you told me you came here in 1985, or did that really happen?”
“That happened.” She pulled out a roll of tape. “What do I do?” she asked. “I have no medical training.”
“Just wrap it around my leg several times.”
She started a piece of tape and then moved in, winding it carefully around Ethan’s thigh.
“Is that too tight?”
“No, it’s good. You need to stop the bleeding.”#p#分页标题#e#
She made five revolutions and then ripped the tape and smoothed it down.
“I’m going to tell you something,” Ethan said. “Something that you won’t believe.”