Patrick shifted his weight three days on his back and

Info iconThis preview shows page 1. Sign up to view the full content.

View Full Document Right Arrow Icon
This is the end of the preview. Sign up to access the rest of the document.

Unformatted text preview: e could handle anything as long as she promised to wait for him. She'd probably return to Zurich and tidy up her affairs. Beyond that, she wasn't certain. Home was out of the question, and this weighed heavy on her mind. She had talked to her father three times, always calling from airport pay phones, always reassuring him she was okay. She just couldn't come home now, she explained. She and Patrick would communicate through Sandy, but weeks would pass before she would actually see him. HE CALLED for the first pill just before 2 A.M., after waking with a sharp pain. It felt like the voltage returning to his legs. And the cruel voices of his captors were taunting him. "Where's the money, Patrick?" they chanted like a demonic chorus. "Where's the money?" The pill arrived on a tray carried by a lethargic night orderly who forgot to bring cold water. He demanded a glass, then swallowed the pill and washed it away with warm soda from a leftover can. Ten minutes, and nothing happened. His body was covered with sweat. The sheets were drenched. The sores burned from the salt in the sweat. Another ten minutes. He turned on the television. The men who had tied him down and burned him were still out there, looking for the money, no doubt fully aware of where he was at this moment. He felt safer in daylight. Darkness and dreams brought them back. Thirty minutes. He called the nurses' station, but no one answered. He drifted away. At six, he was awake when his doctor entered, smileless today, all business as he poked the wounds quickly, then declared, "You're ready to go. They have good doctors waiting for you where you're going." He scribbled in his chart and left without another word. Thirty minutes later, Agent Brent Myers sauntered into the room with a nasty smile and a flash of the badge, as if he needed to practice its delivery. "Good morning," he said. Patrick didn't look at him but said, "Couldn't you knock first?" "Sure, sorry. Look, Patrick, I just tal...
View Full Document

This note was uploaded on 07/18/2010 for the course LIT 301 taught by Professor Dra during the Spring '10 term at American College of Computer & Information Sciences.

Ask a homework question - tutors are online