He was
lying still. The same as yesterday and the day before and few more days back in
the past. The woman, sitting on a chair next to the hospital bed, was getting
tired of this annoying assignment. It wasn't the kind of work she was used to.
And she never will, she thought, massaging her throbbing temples. Bright
lighting, irritating beeping sound, nothing to lay your eyes on, except for this
strange guy, and longing for her habitual errands, were driving her nuts. Carol
shifted in her chair, gazing absently at the motionless man. Although Thomas
didn’t say much about the blonde lad, she disliked him already. Her being here
was after all his fault .
The man's
fair hair was spread on the pillow, the dark circles under his eyes were
becoming increasingly prominent with each day. The eyes... For obvious reasons
Carol couldn't see them right now, but just the thought of his irides was more
than enough to make her feel uneasy. She could only imagine why Thomas ordered
that the guy was brought here. Moreover, she found herself to be utterly unable
to comprehend why it must be her who has to watch over this creep. He looks
like some angelic yank, she reflected, how someone like that could have...
The sudden
movement, slight as it was, made her start. The guy slowly lifted his eylids
and grimaced slightly at the pain in his chest when he heaved himself to the
half sitting position.
For a short
time nobody uttered a word. Carol stared at him, completely fascinated , rapt
expression at her face. She did expect such a sight, but still, not every day
you can see a man with red eyes.
At the same
time, John seemed thoroughly confused. He looked around, but nothing of the
surroundings stroke him as familiar. His eyes stopped on Carol's figure. He
wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He mouthed a few,
but there was no sound coming out of his mouth. But Carol understood him at
once.
'Don't say
anything’ she muttered and made for the door, without even glancing at the
disorientated man 'I'll call the doctor'.
'And the
boss' she added, leaving John alone with his numerous thoughts and questions.
'Can
someone finally explain to me what is going on?!' demanded John, dodging doctor’s
hands aiming for his bruised arm. He glimpsd first at the doctor Flame, then at
a mysterious woman who still haven’t revealed her name. Finally the man decided
to show some mercy.
‘As I said,
you don’t have to worry, it’s a hospital, we’ll take good care of you’.
The answer
was too laconic to please John. But the doctor have said enough for John to
realise that both of them, the woman and grey haired man, spoke with a distinct
British accent. John got even more confused. And angry.
‘Hospital?’
he sighted ‘Fine, but where? What am I doing here? And why the heck am I here
in the first place?’
‘You don’t
remember anything?’ enquired Flame, slightly surprised, but visibly relieved.
‘Anything
of what?’
‘Well, we
would like to know it as well’ lied Flame ‘But you should rather be worrying
about your future, not past, son’.
‘What do
you mean? Worry about my future? Am I dying or what? You’ve kidnapped me?’
asked John ironically.
‘You’re not
going to die, at least not today’ assured him Flame. He hesitated for a moment.
‘As for your other questions, I’m not the right man to give answers’.
John wanted
to protest, but the door to the ward interrupted him. To the room entered a man
in his late thirties, dressed in the ill-fitting brown suit. He had a neatly trimmed goatee beard and a
moustache, rectangular glasses in thick, black frame perched on the bridge of
his nose.
He nodded a
greeting at the doctor and gazed steadily into John’s face.
‘Hi’ said
the suited man, his mellifluous voice pierced the awkward silence ‘Nice to meet
you, John, I’m Alan Thomas’.
‘You know
my name’ John stated flatly ‘What is this place? Why are you all so secretive?
I have my rights!’
Compared to
Thomas’ posh accent, John felt that his own sounded almost barbaric.
‘Rest
assured, you’ll receive the best of care. In few days you will be fresh as a daisy!’
Everybody
skilfully skirted around the subject. It annoyed John intensely.
‘For fuck’s
sake, where am I?!’
‘Well, you’ll
have to know eventually’ Thomas sighted heavily. ‘We are in the nail factory’.
John was
taken aback.
‘What?’
‘The nail
factory’ repeated Thomas casually. ‘You know, those little metal things that
you try to hammer to a wall and end up striking a finger home instead’.
‘Don’t make
fun of me’ said John indignantly.
‘I am not.
It really is a nail factory. At least, this is what we want people to think’.
‘You could
try being more open with me, you know?’
‘There is
time for everything’ declared Thomas ‘Now rest, we will speak again, and then I’ll
explain, I promise’.
John looked
at Thomas suspiciously. He didn’t believe in single word of the man’s little
speech. He couldn’t know, but he should have, because every bit of what Thomas
said was true.
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