A Lost Ghost

Chapter 10: A Friendly Enemy

Something tells me I'm not in heaven. I would've seen the gates...right? I would've heard God's voice. Or seen a bright light at the very least. Instead, I just see darkness and nothingness. The comforting warmth of flannel sheets swallows me whole. I feel the weight of at least six blankets on top of me. I can smell the long-forgotten, homey scent of freshly washed blankets. I slowly pull my heavy eyes open. My eyes set on the blurry wooden ceiling. I slowly reach up, pressing my fingers into my eyes to peel the crust out. Pins and needles explode from my funny bone. My eyes narrow as the rough material of bandages rubs against my eye. I grimace as I pull my hand back and see white bandages covering my left hand. Lifting my head a little, I can see a rocking chair with a white and grey quilt draped over it. My eyes flick to the window beside it. I can just barely make out the dark blue morning sky through the slits of the blinds. I swallow hard, feeling the saliva travel down my sandpaper-like throat. I look forward and stare at the closed door. I move my right arm only to feel something sticking in it. I glance down to see a plastic tube in my forearm.

My eyes travel the length of the tube to see it attached to a bag of clear liquid that's hanging from a metal hook. I blink a couple dozen times. It takes my brain a minute to absorb the rest of my surroundings, like the fact that I'm numb from the waist down. Then it hits me. My leg. I want to sit up and throw the covers off to see if it's still there, but I know that's not an option. Not a good one anyway. Not a smart one. I don't feel any pain yet, and I certainly don't wanna push it. That...and I'm kind of afraid that if I look, there won't be anything there. The thought of looking down and seeing nothing but a stub sends a wave of panic through me. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to swallow the rising fear, reminding myself to stay calm. I clench my jaw, opening my eyes as I swallow hard. I slid my arm down the side of my body. My heart starts to pound.

God, please let me still have a leg.

I strain as I move my upper half down. Finally, my fingers brush across what feels like bandages above my knee. I move my fingers up slightly to feel my bare thigh. I lift my head again and look at the end of the bed, hoping to see the covers curve around my feet, but there's so many blankets that I can't tell. I wiggle my toes back and forth, faintly feeling my muscles move and the covers brushing against my bare feet. I lean my head back onto the pillow and sigh in relief. Thank God they're still there. My eyes narrow as my brain slowly emerges from the mega-confusing fog. I'm not dead? How? Wait...my bare feet? Am I not wearing socks? I wiggle my toes again. Yeah, I'm definitely not wearing socks. I...I don't think I'm wearing pants either. I grab the wad of blankets and hurl them off. The freezing air slams into my bare legs. The only thing covering me was a thin hospital gown. A thick bandage is wrapped around my lower thigh. I glance around the small room again. This is no hospital. At least not an official one. My heart starts to pound again as my brain gets closer and closer to fully functioning. Where's my flight suit? My G-suit? My helmet? Where...am I?

I whip my head around, my eyes setting on a wooden chair to the right of me. My heart sinks as my gear lays neatly folded on that chair, my helmet sitting nicely on top of it. I turn my head to the left. Rocking chair. Window. I turn my head to the right. IV bag. Chair with my gear on it. This isn't a hospital. That's about the only obvious thing here. Is this...someone's house? Maybe it's some weird Russian prison? But I'm not restrained, am I? I glance down at my wrists. No cuffs. I squeeze my eyes shut as I move my heavy legs. I groan as a slight twinge of pain comes from my leg, but I can't feel any restraints around my ankles. If this isn't a hospital or a Russian prison, then where the—.

My eyes snap towards my gear. It doesn't matter where I am. My gun.

Get the gun, Binky, and then you have the upper hand.

I take in a deep breath as I slowly swing my immensely heavy legs over the side of the bed. I glance at my gear again. It's not far at all, but for someone who has a bullet in their leg, it might as well be miles away. I take another deep breath and place my feet against the cold wooden floor. As soon as I stand, I topple to the ground. Pain shoots up my spine. Before I can stop myself, a mangled groan escapes my lips. My eyes snap to the door as a light flicks on underneath it. My heart jumps to life, racing inside of my chest.