Stung Awake - revised Oct 8th

Stung Awake

Bill could feel the cold hard ground beneath him as he lay there.  He was confused as to why he was on the ground at all.  The last thing he remembered was being up on the roof removing the sheet metal.  The last sheet he pulled up, right on the edge of the roof, was hiding a beehive in the trim. 

Slowly, he remembered what had happened.  In pulling up the sheet metal, he had upset the bees and they had swarmed him. He remembered getting stung countless times, twenty or thirty stings in all.  He must have fallen off the roof.  He realized he was having trouble breathing.  The cool mountain air moved across his face, he needed to open his mouth and draw it in deep to his lungs.  He couldn't manage to get his breathing to work right, his gasps were too shallow; he was not able to pull enough air deeply into his lungs.

PAIN.

His right thigh felt like it had been broken.  He remembered it had felt fine just a minute ago.  It didn't feel broken, just punctured, like something had stabbed his thigh.  He could feel his thoughts slowing down, it was getting harder and harder to think.  Who the hell had stabbed him he wondered. 

PAIN.

Detached, he wondered if he was ever going to get the chance to get even with the sadist that was stabbing him while he was laying here incapacitated.  He was starting to get angry now.  His thoughts didn't seem to be as sluggish anymore, in fact his mind was racing as fast as his heart was.  He thought he might be able to open his eyes soon, he could sense a flickering of light through his closed eyelids; and that insistent buzzing that had been blocking out sound to this point seemed to be lessening.

“Bill! Bill! Can you hear me? Can you breathe?”  Sasha's voice seemed to come from miles away; he could barely make out what she was saying. 

Bill tried to answer her, but all he managed was a croak.  He could feel the swelling going down now, even his breathing was improving.  Despite his best efforts however, all he managed was an affirmative croak.

“Don't worry love, the ambulance is on it's way.  You're lucky that Jim from next door saw you fall, and that he had his bee sting kit with him.”  Sasha's voice was clearer now that the buzzing in Bill's ears was receding. 

Ah, there!  He managed to open his eyes and sure enough he could see his Sasha kneeling with a worried expression on her face.  He noticed the way her hair was drifting in the breeze, the gentle play of the sun and shadows across her brow.  He tried to reach up a hand and brush back the hair from her face, to reassure her that he was fine, that everything was alright.

His arm didn't move.  Or did it?  He could feel his body pressed against the ground, but he saw his hand move up and brush her hair back.  She had jumped when he touched her cheek, like something had startled her.  She never used to do that when he reached out to her. 

Bill was confused.  The puzzlement must have shown on his face, Sasha tried to explain what was going on as best she could.

“Bill, it looks like you got stung by a swarm of bees; you fell from the roof, and you swelled up from an allergic reaction.  Jim is allergic to bees so he knew what he was seeing when he found you.  Knowing how little time you had, Jim hit you with his Epi-Pen, trying to avert your reaction.  I came out with a bee kit when I heard Jim yelling, and without asking Jim what he'd done, I hit you with our Epi-Pen.”  Sasha ran out of breath at that point, and stopped talking.

Jim spoke up, “Two shots of adrenalin shouldn't hurt you, but the ambulance is going to take you to the hospital just to make sure you're alright.”

Bill managed a ghost of a grin at this.  He tried again to reassure Sasha that it was all going to be alright, but all he manged to get out was a croak followed by a groan.  He tried to push himself up off the ground but he felt a tearing sensation as he moved his arms.  He stopped and settled back into the grass.  Trying again to raise his arm and reach out to Sasha he realized that he could in fact feel the grass on his fingertips while he was seeing what looked like his own arm reaching out to touch Sasha's shoulder. 

Concentrating, he managed to focus on his physical body.  Now...  If he could just manage it, yes, his real arm did move, and so did his ghost one.  He had somehow developed a set of mental muscles.  He'd read about such things in science fiction, being able to move things just by thinking about it.

He experimented.  Could he reach out his imaginary hand and squeeze Sasha's hand, yes!  She reacted to that.  Bill grinned as he considered the possibilities.