The Chtorran towered over me, shuddering with each punch of needles from the rifle, one arm hanging useless, the other grabbing, clutching frantically-its eyes were scarlet pudding, its mouth was twitching teeth
Somewhere in that jerking mass of flesh, there was a brain, a control center-something! I squeezed again and the second empty clip popped up. I grabbed my belt for another magazine
-and then the Chtorran toppled forward onto me and I went out.
THIRTY-FIVE
SOMEBODY WAS calling me. Uh uh. Go away.
"Come on, Jim. Time to wake up." No, leave me alone.
She was shaking my shoulder. "Come on, Jim."
"Leemea lone-"
"Come on, Jim."
"What're you want-?" She kept shaking me. "Come on, Jim."
I went to brush her hand away. I couldn't move my hand. "What do you want, goddammit?"
"Come on, Jim."
I couldn't move my arm! "I can't move my arm!"
"You're connected to an IV. If you promise not to pull it loose, I'll untie your arm."
"I can't move my arm-!"
"Do you promise not to pull the IV out?"
"Untie me!"
"I can't do that, Jim. Not until you promise."
"Yes, yes, I promise!" I knew that voice. Who was she? "Just untie me!"
Somebody was doing something to my arm. And then it was free. I could move it around. "Why did you wake me up?"
"Because you have to wake up."
"No, I don't. Leave me alone."
"Uh uh. I have to stay with you."
"No, I want be dead again. The Chtorran killed me-"
"No, he didn't. You killed him."
"No. I want to be dead. Like everybody else."
"No, you don't, Jim. Ted wouldn't like it."
"Ted's an asshole. He isn't even here." I wondered where here was. I wondered who I was talking to. She was holding my hand. "I want to be dead too. Everybody else gets to be dead-why can't I?"
"Because once you're dead, you can't change your mind about it."
"I don't want to change my mind. Being dead can't be all that bad. Nobody who was dead ever complained about it, did they? Like Shorty. Shorty's dead. He was my best friend-and I didn't even know him. And my dad. And Marcie's dog. And the little girl. Oh, God"-I started to cry then-"we shot a little girl! I was there, I saw it! And Dr. Obama-she told me it was all right! But it wasn't! That's all bullshit! She's still dead! We didn't even try to save her! And I didn't see any Chtorrans! Everybody else said there were Chtorrans, but I didn't see any Chtorrans!" I wiped at my face, wiped the snot away from my nose. "I didn't believe in the Chtorrans. I never even saw the pictures. How was I to know?" The words bubbled up in my throat, tumbling out one after another. "I saw the Chtorran kill Shorty. I burned it. And I saw them feeding dogs to the Chtorran. Marcie's dog. I saw them bring the Chtorran onto the stage. Dr. Zymph checked the glass-oh, God-I saw it break. The Chtorran just boiled out into the auditorium. I saw the people running-I saw it-" I was choking on my own sobs now. She was holding my hand tight
I wiped at my face again, but she was there with a tissue. I took it and mopped at my nose and eyes. Why was I crying, I wondered. And why was I saying all of this?
"Don't go away!!" I said suddenly.
"I'm right here."
"Stay with me."
"It's all right, I'm right here."
"Who are you?"
"It's Dinnie."
"Dinnie? I don't know any Dinnie." Or did I? Why did the name sound familiar? "What's wrong with me?"
She patted my hand. "Nothing's wrong with you that won't get better. Are you through crying?"
I thought about it. "Yeah, I guess so."
"You going to open your eyes?"
"No."
"Okay. Don't."
I opened my eyes. Green. The ceiling was green. The room was small and dimly lit. A hospital? I blinked in confusion. "Where am I?"
"Reagan Memorial."
I turned my head to look at her. She wasn't as weird-looking as I remembered. She was still holding my hand. "Hi," I said.
"Hi," she said. "Feeling better?"
I nodded. "Why did you wake me up?"
"House rules. Anyone on pentothal has to be awakened when they come out of surgery, so we're sure they can handle their own breathing."
"Oh," I said. I was covered with blankets. I couldn't feel anything. "What happened?"
She looked unhappy. "The Chtorran killed twenty-three people. Fourteen more died in the panic. Thirty-four were injured, five of them critically. Two of those are not expected to live." She eyed me critically. "In case you're wondering, you will."
I started to ask, "Who-" But my voice cracked and I didn't finish the sentence.
"'Who' what?"
"Who was killed?"
"They haven't released any names yet."
"Oh. So you don't know."
I couldn't fathom her expression. She looked oddly satisfied. "Well, I can tell you this-some of the Fourth World delegations are going to have to be restaffed. We've filled up two wings and the morgue with them. They were all sitting in the first five rows. And the worm threw himself across that whole section."
Something occurred to me then, but I didn't say it. Instead, I asked, "How did it get out?"
"They had the wrong kind of glass in the cage. They thought they had hundred-strength. It was only ten. There's going to be an investigation, but it looks like there was some kind of foul-up in supply. Nobody knew."
I tried to sit up and couldn't. I was strapped to the bed.
"Uh, don't," Dinnie said, putting her hand on my chest gently. "You've got five broken ribs and a punctured lung. You're lucky you didn't hit a major blood vessel. You were under that Chtorran for fifteen minutes before we got you out. You were on CPR maintenance for at least thirteen of those minutes."
"Who-?"
"Me. And you're lucky, buster, because I'm damned good at it. It's a good thing you took a step back before he fell on you, else I wouldn't have been able to reach your face with the mask-or your chest with the thumper. It took seven men to roll that Chtorran off. They wanted to flame it, but I wouldn't get out of the way. You can thank me later. They weren't too happy about it. Who have you got mad at you anyway? I never saw so many angry men with torches. But I don't abandon my patients. By the way, I think one of those broken ribs is mine. Don't ask. I couldn't be gentle. Oh, and you've also got a fractured kneecap. You were on the table five hours." She hesitated and then mouthed the words, "On purpose."
"Huh?"
She leaned over me to fluff my pillow, and as she did her mouth came very close to my ear. "Somebody didn't want me to save you," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"Sorry," she said out loud. "Here, let me fluff that better."
Again, she whispered, "And they wanted to let you die on the table. But you're under medical protection here, and nobody's going to be allowed to see you without a nurse present. Me."
"Uh . . ." I shut my mouth.
Sitting back again, she said, "By the way, you may be a hero. Some of the doors in that room were jammed. No telling how many people that thing might have killed if you hadn't stopped it before the rest of the cavalry arrived."
"Oh." I remembered the Chtorran swinging around and starting toward me, and suddenly, I was nauseous
Dinnie saw the look of alarm on my face, and was there with a basin almost immediately. My stomach lurched and my throat convulsed-and there were cold iron claws digging into my chest
"Here!" She shoved a pillow into my arms, wrapped me around it so it splinted my abdomen and chest. "Hang onto that." -nothing came up. I retched again, and then once more. Each time the pain dug into me again.
"Don't worry about your incision-you're well-glued. I did it myself. You won't splatter."