Stringline: First Strike

05 Slider

A knock at the door pulled Slider mostly from a deep, much needed sleep. Thomas had been unconscious for hours, finally able to sleep himself after two days of pain and suffering. Slider's return message from the movement had been brief:

Loyal Soldier

Medical supplies will be left at the Mesker Avenue drop box in twenty four hours. Expect field surgeon in forty eight hours with further information. Do not leave the safe house except to retrieve the supplies.

Lt. Colonel David Reese, MD will arrive with all the necessary equipment for surgery, be prepared to help him in any way he needs. Dr. Reese will be your lead in this operation until further notice. His instructions for Thomas' care will be with the supplies, it is your duty to keep him alive until Dr. Reese arrives. Report expected after surgery is complete.

Twenty four hours. It seemed an eternity, especially when faced with the possibility that, at any second, a hundred troops could come repelling from the night sky onto the grassy lawn pent on finishing the job they started on that damnable bridge. Slider had waited for six hours behind an overturned coffee table with his pistols at the ready and Thomas in agony beside him, but no opposition forces had threatened to break down their door. After six hours, with only one remaining ampule of morphine, Slider finally gave up his post and decided that no one had been listening, no one was storming their all too unprotected castle. The transmitters appeared secure.

He laid Thomas on the couch, administered his last shot of pain killer then sat down in a recliner, drifting slowly to a restless sleep. When Thomas' drugs wore off and the swelling in his head became too much for his soul to bear, Slider's uneasy sleep was broken by Thomas' groaning. The groans of discomfort quickly became screams of agony and pleas for mercy at the hands of his smashed and disfigured skull. Slider provided what comfort he could, but a single hand to hold seemed petty offering to one whose suffering was so great. With three hours to go Thomas was beyond tears, beyond words, too tired to scream out, too tired to twist and turn on his back, too tired to beg for mercy. He lay motionless on his sweat soaked bed of pain and panted like a dog beaten within an inch of insanity.

At times Slider wept with him, when the torture of being unable to appease Thomas's suffering became too much for him to bear. There was no refuge in the house from his screams of torment, and he was bound by his orders to stay inside. The fleeting rest he had gleaned while the last of the morphine had been in effect was depleted soon after waking to Thomas' howls, and he feared not having the strength or cognizance to drive the ten miles to the drop box when the time came. Now the time loomed ever closer and he feared leaving Thomas alone, even for the short time he was to be away. The ordeal that had plagued this young man for so many hours was enough to test the most hardened soul and Thomas was surely near loosing all hope for a life outside of pain and simply fading away. Slider had prayed for hours that his mere presence would be encouragement enough to keep Thomas alive, but the trip to the drop box could take as long as forty-five minutes depending on traffic. Maybe less if he didn't cover his tail. That could be an eternity to one in Thomas' condition, an eternity that could drive him from this world forever.

Slider had no choice. He needed medicine and instructions for changing the bandages and preparing Thomas' wounds for surgery. The only bandages he had were expended, and those currently applied to Thomas' devastated eyes were completely soaked with blood, begging to be changed. He had to go. With an hour left he had made a strong pot of coffee and drank the whole thing. A vehicle had been stored in the garage which he used to fly across the residential district to the bus station locker he had been using for pick-ups since his arrival. As promised, within was a large black case that contained everything he needed as well as a small pre-programmed PAD loaded with instructions on how to use the supplies. Renewed in faith by the arrival of this all too important package, and driven by the need to be back with Thomas as soon as possible, Slider dashed for his ride feeling the strong breath of his second wind.