Gingerly, I approach the man, taking in his superficial injuries. Small shards of metal have cut his face and some are still there. Using tweezers, I pick them out one by one, hoping it's the right thing to do, postponing the moment when I have to look at the injuries on his chest which are still bleeding profusely.
When I've done all I can for his face, cleaning and bandaging the worst of his cuts, I turn my attention to his chest.
Peeling away the tatters of his shirt, I suppress a gasp. Protruding from the centre of his chest is a shard of shrapnel about the size of my pinkie. Blood blossoms around it and other smaller lengths of shrapnel have burrowed into the surrounding skin.
In the dim light of the makeshift hospital I can see how serious it is. Before all this happened, Dad taught me all about wound like this. it was part of my initial training. Over the next few days the shrapnel will make its way through his blood stream, eventually damaging his essential organs. Killing him. Unless I can fix it.
...
Searching around the floor I find a large circular magnet, an ancient car battery, a tangle of wires and some rubber tubing.
I'm in my element, inventing, working with ideas, creaking a prototype. The only difference is that this time a life is in the balance.
...
Hours pass like minutes. The only things in my bubble of concentration are myself and my invention. Niggling at the back of my mind is the ever-present worry that the the man is going to wake up whilst I'm operating. Or worse still, not wake up at all.
The Ten Rings, the bastards who killed my parents and kidnapped me must want this man for something... This means that he's either their enemy or just as psychopathic as they are. I hope it's the former because then I might have some company in captivity.
...
Lost in my thoughts I loose track of time. So when the door thuds open I'm inches away from cardiac arrest. The man with the gun stands in the doorway, illuminated by the flickering electric lights in the corridor.
"You are finished?"
"Yeah." As finished as you can be when saving someones life with a box of scraps.
"Come with me now and he will follow."
The man turns his back, gesturing for me to follow and I dart back to the table. Pocketing the bottle of brandy and a handful of bandages before following him back to my cell, my hands still covered in the man's blood.
ΔΙΑΒΑΖΕΙΣ
A Stark Contrast
FanfictionMika Hayes has been held hostage by the organisation who call themselves The Ten Rings for the last two years. Just when she thinks it's all over the dying Tony Stark enters her life.
