The Abduction (21 page)

“
I’m sure everything will work out. I’m going to make us something for lunch, and then put something going for dinner.” Maria hummed as she moved about; nothing seemed to phase her for long. “Do carnitas sound OK?”

Samantha smiled at Maria’s infectious positive mood. “
That sounds great. Thank you.”

“Do you want to take something out to the younger one? What is his name…”

“Kris.”

“Ah, Kris. Do you think he’s hungry?”

Samantha nodded and headed toward her room. “I’m going to go change, and then I’ll take him his food.”

“
So you really don’t have a translator with you?”

Krissik looked away from where Samantha sat and shook his head. He shifted against the handcuffs and rested his cheek on the blanket.

Samantha tapped her nails against her knee, clicking her tongue against her cheek. She was surprisingly disappointed; she’d hoped Krissik had been truthful in bringing the equipment along so that she could communicate with him. Granted, he understood everything she said, but that made for a pretty one-way conversation.

“How hard is it to get one?”

Krissik frowned at her. “Isk?”

“Why?” She’d been around the brothers long enough to recognize a few words. “
So that we can talk—and so I can understand what you’re saying.  Especially if…” She hesitated, motioning with her hands as she reached for the appropriate words. “If you would like to stay.”

Krissik’s eyes went round, and his pupils dilated in surprise. Enough that Samantha nearly laughed out loud. She grinned and held out her hands toward his face.

“Don’t move.”

Krissik tensed as her hands went to his neck, and his entire body stilled as she gently loosened the pronged chain around his neck and carefully lifted it over and off his head. Krissik swallowed and rolled his neck, testing the newfound freedom. He glanced curiously at Samantha, who shrugged.

“Look, I know you came here to take me back to your planet,” she started. “But I’m not going anywhere, and you know Rikist would never let you leave with me. So you have two options.”

She paused, as if considering, and then began loosening the knots on Krissik’s torso and legs. She left the hobbles and handcuffs on, and then helped him into a sitting position against the stall wall. Krissik hissed in discomfort as he stretched his legs out, and he shifted against the warm wood. He licked his lips and looked at Samantha expectantly.

Samantha squared her shoulders. “One, you stay here until Rikist is back, and then you can say goodbye and you go home and never bother us again. Because I’m pretty sure if you try to come back under the same circumstance Rikist won’t stop until you’re dead. And I’d really hate to see that happen.” She softened at the shocked and touched look in his eyes. “Or two, I let you go now so you can go take a shower and get some true rest in a real bed, and you can get acquainted with your new room.”

Krissik started. “
Ri tas sirta rat, isk?”

Samantha shrugged. “You’re Rikist’s brother. And that makes you part of my family. You, me, Rikist, Rodolfo, Maria…”

Krissik lowered his gaze and seemed to lose himself to his thoughts. Samantha knelt beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I know it would mean a lot to Rikist if you would stay” she whispered. “So that he had his brother beside him. But I understand if you would rather be with your own kind.”

Krissik’s red eyes met hers, and he nodded.

“S-ste… stay.”

The bell jingled as Rodolfo unlocked and opened the front door to the clinic as Samantha and Krissik arrived. His eyes widened at the sight of Krissik, and his hands went for the gun resting by the wall to his right.

“It’s fine, Rodolfo!” Samantha assured. She took Krissik’s elbow and pulled him into the clinic. “Don’t worry, we worked things out.”

“I’m getting too old for this crap,” Rodolfo muttered as he relocked the door and took a seat in the small waiting room, fanning his face with his hat.

“Samantha?” John called from around the corner. “Back here.”

Samantha led Krissik to one of the back ro
oms, where Rikist slept on his back on a hospital bed surrounded by beeping monitors. Several IVs stuck out of his left arm, and a long, clear tube snaked into his mouth and down his throat. A thick, white bandage wrapped around his right bicep where Samantha knew John had taken a muscle graft to use in Rikist’s leg. The leg in question had been set in a plaster cast from below the knee down to splint the fractured bone, and an industrial style knee brace had one end drilled into the top of the cast and the other fitted snugly against his cleaned and bandaged thigh.

John
turned from the sink, and he started at the sight of Krissik. “Ah, what the hell—”

“Don’t worry.” Samantha held a hand up. “It’s fine
, they’re brothers. What’s that in his mouth?”

John shook himself as if ruffling his feathers, and then
looked where she was pointing as he dried off his hands. “Endotracheal tube. It delivers oxygen, sevofluorane, and nitrous oxide directly to his lungs so he wouldn’t aspirate—”

“Nitrous oxide?”

“Laughing gas. Along with the Versed and Propofol he went down quick. He’s a big guy, so I’m just glad I factored the dosages correctly.” He reached for the tape holding the tube in place and gently peeled it off. “I already cut the gas off about ten minutes ago, and he’s breathing on his own so I can take the oxygen out.”

Samantha looked away as John began slowly pulling the tube from out of Rikist’s throat. She glanced at Krissik, who looked about ready to pounce on John and tear him to shred
s.

John caught
the look as well, and froze. His eyes darted to Samantha. “Can you please explain to him that I’m not hurting his brother before he tries to eat me?”

Samantha grabbed Krissik’s arm and pulled him about. “He’s just trying to help.”

Krissik nodded curtly, letting her know he was aware; the low growl from deep in his throat made it clear he didn’t like it.

She rubbed
Krissik’s arm and chest, trying her best to calm him. “How did the surgery go?”

“Uh, pretty good actually.” John set the tube down on a tray and turned the dials on
the IV drips, testing them. “I was able to clean up the tissue damage around his knee and removed a hell of a lot of infection. The graft went well, and with some consistent therapy he should be able to regain most if not all motion in his leg. There’s a risk of some stability issues, but we won’t know that for a while as he heals. A brace will help with that, though.”

John pulled out a bottle of clear fluid and a needle, and began filling the syringe.

“What’s that for?” Samantha asked.

“
He should be stirring any time.” He set the bottle on the counter and tapped the bubbles out of the syringe. “This is morphine, and it’s in case he wakes up in combat mode and starts swinging. Happens sometimes, usually with cops, soldiers, or certain athletes. But a right hook from this son of a bitch could land me in the hospital.”

Krissik pulled away from Samantha and slipped to the other side of the bed and shook Rikist’s arm. “Ra irit sa, Rikist?”

“Let him wake on his own!” John cursed and stumbled around to the other side of the bed, reaching for Krissik. “His awareness isn’t in place, you’re just going to confuse him—”

Rikist screamed. He thrashed against the bed, swiping his claws as if to push something away as he howled. He kicked his
foot out, knocking over the nearest metal table and scattering trays of surgical equipment across the floor. Krissik hissed and clambered on the bed to hold Rikist down from struggling off the bed. The heart rate monitor beeped at a rapid pace and an alarm clicked on another machine as an IV chord ripped free.

“Shit!” John cursed and fought to keep Rikist’s arm still. “Hold him!”

Krissik pressed all of his weight on Rikist’s upper body, and John jammed the needle into Rikist’s exposed shoulder. Rodolfo appeared in the hall behind Samantha, shucking the shotgun barrel. The men continued to struggle for another minute, and then Rikist slowly settled back onto the bed, breathing heavily.

John wiped a shaky hand a
cross his brow and stepped back as Krissik eased off the bed. Samantha blinked, realizing she had a death grip on the doorjamb, and forced her hands to her sides. She glanced back at Rodolfo, and glared at him until he set the gun on the side. Everyone waited silently as Rikist’s breathing slowed.

Finally John stepped closer, and stuck a hand out to check Rikist’s pulse against the quieting machines.
“Jesus, that was close.” He shook his head. “He should come around soon.”

Rikist stirred, and he jerked in the bed. Everyone froze as his eyes opened and gazed around the room. Though after a moment it became clear the
glazed, amber eyes weren’t registering much.

“S-sirt… ka sita rits…” Rikist mumbled. He lifted his head groggily,
and then let it fall back on the pillow. He began to shiver violently, so hard that his teeth chattered. “Rak ir… isik tsi…”

Krissik snapped his gaze to John, concern plastered across his face.

John bent and opened a cabinet and produced several folded blankets. “Don’t worry, feeling cold is a pretty common side effect of the anesthesia. Here, wrap these around him.”

Krissik took the blankets and spr
ead them out over Rikist’s legs and tucked them in around his brother’s neck. His hand wavered, and then gently brushed the underside of his wrist against Rikist’s jaw in greeting.

“Stri kis, Rikist?”

Rikist’s head lolled to the side, and he did several long, drawn out blinks. “Sti iris…” His voice rasped between shivers. His gaze wandered, disoriented, as he slurred, “W-where am… Ir tsra, Samn-tha?”

“I’m right here.”
Samantha pushed past Krissik and rubbed Rikist’s shoulder through the blanket. “You’re at John’s clinic.”

He lifted his hea
d and frowned at the cast. “What happened to my leg?”

“You had surgery, remember? And you did good—”

“Why?”

Samantha eyed John. “Is he OK?”

“He’s fine.” John fixed the IVs in Rikist’s arm. “The Versed causes temporary amnesia, so that his body doesn’t remember the surgery itself. It’ll probably wear off in an hour or so.”

Rikist’s hand swayed in the air as he tried to touch Samantha’s face; his fingers brushing air a foot to her right.
“H-hi… Hiya.” Rikist’s punch-drunk smile reached from ear to ear, and he tried to lift his head to sit up. “W-what happened to my leg?”

John smirked. “Shark bit it off.”

Rikist’s eyes went wide. “Why?”

“Stop, it, John.”
Samantha laughed, and pushed Rikist down against the bed. “Just lay your head back, Rikist.”

Rikist suddenly broke in
to a bout of giggling, which just as suddenly melted into annoyance as he shivered. “Why’s so… fuckin’ cold in here?”

“Moody bastard, isn’t he?”
John smirked and reached out and turned Rikist’s head to face him. “Rikist, look at me. I want you to try to follow my finger with just your eyes.”

John held up one finger and slowly moved his hand back and forth. Rikist blinked and tried to
lift his own finger to touch John’s. John chuckled and pushed Rikist’s hand away.

“
Alright, E.T., keep your hand down. Just follow with your eyes.”

“
You got handsome fingers…” Rikist muttered.

Krissik guffawed beside Samantha, who
had covered her mouth with one hand. The younger alien closed his eyes and shook his head, laughing. “Ta irtis, Rikist!”

John grinned, and put a blood pressure cuff on Rikist’s arm.
“So I’ve been told.”

“What…” Rikist tried to pull his arm away from John’s grip, his eyes locked on John’s fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Checking your blood pressure.”

Rikist’s sloppy grin widened. “
Are you gonna take advantage of me?”

Rodolfo leane
d against the doorjamb, amused. Krissik nearly crumbled on the foot of the bed, his face red as guffawed hysterically.

John dropped his stethoscope,
and tried to keep a straight face as he undid the cuff as quickly as possible and stepped back. “I think your blood pressure’s fine—”

“
You can do all the work…” Rikist mumbled something unintelligible in his native tongue, and then rolled his head around, as if looking for something. “I want staw-beyrs.”

Samantha laughed and caressed his cheek. “When you’re up to it I’ll get you some strawberries. Right now you’re pretty out of it.”

“My throat hurts.” Suddenly Rikist’s chin trembled, and his face crumbled as he sucked in a shaky breath. “Krissik ate all the staw-beyrs…”

Rodolfo’s leathery face flashed a grin. “Is he crying?”

“It’s the meds talking,” John said, his composure back. “Some people are more susceptible to emotional outbursts after waking. It’s just the body’s way of reacting to trauma.” He paused, a roguish grin on his lips, and then leaned close to the bed. “Hey Rikist, Kris ate all of your strawberries.”

Samantha stifled a laugh as Rikist
wailed, trying to weakly lift his sluggish limbs to wipe at his face as he sobbed. She glared at the other men as they doubled over in laughter; especially Krissik, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

“John, you’re an asshole!”

Annoyed as she was that they were laughing at Rikist’s expense, she had to admit that it
was
pretty damn funny.

And all I want to do is lick those tears right off his cheeks and lips.

“You’re alright, Rikist,” she cooed, struggling to keep the smirk off her straight face. A snort of laughter escaped and she buried her face in the pillow to regain her self-control as she stroked his face and arm. “It’s gonna be OK. ”

John cleared his throat, though the humor didn’t leave his eyes. He s
lipped several bottles of pills into a plastic bag and held it up to Samantha.

“Right now he’s on Dialaudi
d to keep him down for the next twenty-four hours. After that, he’ll be on Vicodin for the pain, Xanax to minimize anxiety and keep him down so that his leg can heal. The two meds together will increase drowsiness and most likely dizziness and difficulty concentrating, so he’ll probably be knocked flat for the first few days.” He handed her the bag. “Then of course there’s antibiotics, and you can give him Ibuprofen if he needs it. I wrote everything down for you so you know when and how much to give.”

“Thanks, John.”

“You know can call me anytime if you need anything.”

“
What did you do my leg?” Rikist moaned behind them.

Samantha rolled her eyes at
Krissik’s hyena-like laugh, and allowed herself to break into a wide grin. “Alright, Kris. Let’s get him home.”