“Our two patients,” said the Professor, “are Dr. Martin Kovak, who was sadly left in a persistent vegetative state after sustaining blunt force trauma to his skull in a home invasion that happened just yesterday. Martin’s next of kin insisted that his organs be donated as per his wishes while he was still alive.”
An overwhelming sadness fell over Adam. No one would care that he was gone. Kate might be sad for a short while, but she’d get over it once her friends pointed out all the hurt and pain he’d caused her over the years. Hopefully, she would go on to meet a guy who would make her truly happy, someone who would treat her with respect, like the princess she was.
“And Mr. Adam Walters,” continued the Professor, “a tourist who fractured his c-spine in a car accident yesterday, who will never be able to breathe without the assistance of a ventilator ever again. I’d ask him to wave, but…” The Professor chuckled at his own sick joke.
Adam wanted to cry. He wasn’t a shining example of a human being, not exactly brimming with compassion for his fellow man, but he never hurt anybody, not physically. Any scars he left were psychological, and would fade with time. This, however, this was permanent.
“Before the operation begins, we have to cool the patients to 53 degrees, that’s about 12 degrees centigrade, to reduce the risk of ischemia and buildup of toxic metabolic byproducts. Both necks will be dissected, and all major vessels reconnected with the dialyzer to preserve cerebral blood flow. I’ll be using a diamond laser for precision cutting of the spinal cords. I will then proceed to attach all major nerves from recipient to donor using a special neuron stimulating glue of my own design.”
Adam was slowly slipping away, only catching fragments of the professor’s speech and other sounds around him. He was still aware of the constant whoosh of the ventilators and beeping of the pulse oximeters, but they had lost their meaning.
“Once in recovery, the patient will be kept in an induced coma for a month to minimize movement and allow time for healing. Electrodes will stimulate the nerves to promote regeneration.”
Sleepy. So sleepy. But Adam fought it with every ounce of strength.
I’d rather die than let these monsters mutilate me. Come on, Adam. Don’t let them win.
Come on, Adam. Fight it!
Don’t give in.
Stay awake.
Fight the sleep.
Sleep.
So tired.
I’ll rest my eyes for only a second.
Chapter 8
Adam became vaguely aware of a tugging sensation near his collarbone. Something prodded then pulled in small, delicate movements. Not painful, but a deep discomfort. It reminded him of how his father used to sit with a sharp knife and meticulously peel away the sinew from the juicy chunk of beef fillet that they were to eat as a Sunday treat. He would pinch the loose end of the membranous sheath with the fingers on one hand, and with tiny slicing motions he separated the chewy sinew from the meat. He dedicated hours to the task, until every trace had been removed, and all that remained was pure, tender, beef fillet. Adam could almost taste it, the savory metallic delight of the meat, cooked medium rare, just the way he liked it, the juices seeping onto the plate as the first cut was made through the pink flesh.
Faintly in the background a sound chimed every couple of seconds, its pace rhythmic and constant, hypnotic, like a radar echoing in a deep, underwater cavern.
He heard voices. Only now and then, but they seemed to shatter the tranquility and bring him closer to a place where he didn’t want to be. He wanted to continue to float in the blissful darkness, but every interruption pulled him further away, closer to reality, and that deep discomfort became a dull pain. The pain simmered and grew in intensity until it became a searing burn. He could feel it from his neck down to his toes. With every stroke he could feel the fascia and muscle fibers being torn apart as the surgeon’s blade dissected his neck.
Adam screamed, “Stop!” But his mouth didn’t move, not even a quiver of his jaw, and there was no cry for help except for the screaming in his head.
Chapter 9
Adam’s world was suddenly completely calm. He was tucked up in bed, asleep in a pitch-black room. The smell of the sheets, the pictures on the walls, the toys littered on the bed, were familiar enough that he knew he was back in his childhood bedroom. Safe and warm again.
The door handle to his room creaked and slowly turned. The door opened a fraction and a crack of light fell across his face.
“Mom?”
“Shh,” said his mother, as she crept quietly into the room, closing the door behind her.
She slipped into the bed beside Adam and gave him a hug. Her body was cold, and her hands were freezing.
“Why are you so cold, Mom?” asked Adam.
“Mommy’s just come in from outside.”
“You can snuggle me, Mom. I’ll make you warm.”
He reached his tiny arms around her neck and hugged her tightly.
“Thank you, my angel. I’m lucky to have such a good boy.”
Adam ran his soft chubby hand across his mother’s face. There were tears on her cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
“Mommy will be okay.”
“Did Daddy get mad again?”
She hugged Adam so close to her chest that it hurt his bones.
“Mommy, you’re hurting me,” he squirmed in her arms and tried to push her away. “Mommy, stop.”
But she held him tighter in a vice-like grip that squeezed tighter and tighter. His chest felt like it was going to explode.
“Stop, Mommy!” he screamed.
Suddenly, Adam was alone in bed. He pushed himself up on his elbows, and his chest heaved. He looked around the room and found himself alone. There was no one at the door, and his sheets were still tightly tucked in around him.
His mother’s voice came to him like a ghost talking from the other side.
“Adam,” she said. “Wake up. You must wake up, Adam.”
“Mommy?” He said, staring into the dark surrounding him.
“WAKE UP!”
Chapter 10
Adam’s eyes flickered open to a scene of panic, and Masha’s hideous face baring down on him. The tape across his eyes had fallen away and he could see everything around him. An alarm was blaring from one of the ventilation machines. There was a crushing heaviness on his chest as that giant bitch Masha performed chest compressions. Her hands were covered in blood, whose he did not know.
Adam’s head tilted ever so slightly, and his eyeballs drifted lazily to the side. What he saw on the other operating table, he could not fully comprehend. Martin’s headless body was lying exposed, his spine and all the delicate nerves protruding into the air, marked with tiny plastic clips. The larger vessels had tubes attached at the ends, pushing and sucking blood through his body, and the ventilation tube was still in place in the trachea, forcing air in and out of his lungs. Small fascinations rippled across the muscles of his arms and legs. His body was still alive.
Martin’s head was lying beside the body, also attached to a complex network of tubing, pushing blood through the arteries and sucking from the veins in rhythm. His eyes looked up suddenly and locked with Adam’s, but only for a moment before they turned glossy and lifeless, as his head finally succumbed to death.
“We have a pulse,” yelled Iva.
“Shock him,” bellowed the Professor.
The crushing weight lifted off his chest as Masha climbed down from the table. Two paddles landed on Adam’s chest simultaneously and sent an electric current searing through his body. The shock was like an explosion detonating in his chest, kicking him back into unconsciousness.
Chapter 11
“Wake up, Adam.”
He recognized the gentle female voice with the heavy Eastern European accent, but could not place her. Memories of touching her soft skin and kissing her tender lips. Of alcohol and cigarettes.
He searched his memories for her name, but his mind w
as a void.
She lay something over his head, a light sheet perhaps. Then there was a sharp pain in his groin, a needle going through his skin, and then a sting as something was injected at the base of his cock. But the sensation felt different, detached, as if the pain was happening to somebody else.
Her warmth straddled him and she gently rocked her hips upon his chemically aroused member.
“Martin, you feel so good inside me. I miss you my darling,” the woman said in Czech.
And then there was only pain. All consuming unbearable pain. Shards of electric glass exploding through Adam’s body. Every nerve ending firing at once in terrifying unison. His senses were overwhelmed and his mind revolted in an epileptic seizure.
I can’t take it any more. Please just let me die.
His dark world collapsed in on itself.
Chapter 12
The sound of a heartbeat monitor pulsed faster in the distance. The room was unmistakably an intensive care unit. If Adam listened past the beeping and whirring of machines, there was a sterile silence in the air. No conversations in the background, or sounds of birds and insects outside the windows. Nothing.
He concentrated on lifting just one eyelid a crack. Bright light flooded through the slit in his vision. His lids flickered as they adjusted to the light.
He had no concept of time, how many minutes or hours had passed, but slowly the image in front of him came into focus. There was something opposite him. Only a blur at first, but soon he was certain that it was a hospital bed. And there was a man lying in it.
The man looked peaceful, but Adam’s vision was too blurry to tell if his neighbor was awake or not. He couldn’t make out the features of his face, only that a ventilator was breathing for him, and he could hear the slow dripping of fluids through tubing into the man’s arm.
Adam blinked several times to clear the dry sleep from his eyes. His vision became clearer, and he could see that the man opposite him was staring back in his direction.
Why doesn’t he say something? Has he been watching me all this time without saying a word?
Adam’s neighbor blinked his eyes and screwed up his forehead. He seemed confused and scared.
He tried to lift his arm to give the man a wave, but his hand only twitched in response. Adam wanted to look down at his arm but his head wouldn’t move either. He was woozy from the drugs they were pumping into his veins, but at least there was no pain.
He had no idea where he was. He knew he’d been in Prague to meet with a potential client, but everything after that was a blur. One thing he did recall was pain. So much pain.
Thank god there’s no more pain.
He blinked again and the image in front of him became even clearer. He didn’t have a neighbor in the room, and there was no man staring at him from the other bed. There was no other bed. He was gazing at a mirror, and the face staring back at him was his own. The body, however, was not.
THE END
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About the Author
The eldest of the brothers. Warren was born in England, where he spent his childhood terrorising his younger brothers on his parents’ livestock farm. The family cashed up and emigrated to the United States when he was a teenager. After high school, he worked in the IT sector until the crash in the early 2000’s when he decided to head back to University to study English and French, with the dream of becoming an author.
www.warrenbarns.com
Also By The Barns Brothers
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Headhunter: An Extreme Horror Story Page 8
