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Chapter Fifty

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“How ya feelin’?” drew my eyes opened. I wish it had woken me, but the way I feel I wouldn’t be sleepin’ for a couple years. Trolls obviously don’t think much of pain medication. I could use that troll healer from the mine.

“Wishin’ ya’d used somethin’ stronger to put me under. And kept me there.”

“Didn’t need to put ya under. Just pinpricks. I wanted ya to feel the diggin’ around I was doin’.”

Pin pricks? Hadn’t the ignert doctor said I’d been shot, a bunch of times? Oh. He was bein’ mean. Maybe I called him some nasty thin’s.

“That one in yar neck could’ve been bad,” he said. “Missed important stuff.”

“I got important stuff in my neck?” I asked.

“Important maybe isn’t the right word. Ya ogres have more dense-muscle tissue than ya deserve. Probably have ever used. Especially lucky for ya. I dulled a laser knife. Didn’t know that’s possible.”

That had to be an exaggeration. Right? I looked up at him. Tried to scowl. But my expression probably didn’t change much. I asked about Jam.

“Amazin’ they only tagged him four times. Ya must have been the dumber, slower target.”

“That’s why I told him not to wait for me. There a reason ya have me in a chair?” I asked. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a comfortable, giant chair. But not really conducive to sleepin’.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t have waited on ya. And, ya really don’t want to lay down, on yar back. Not today, yet.”

I thought about that. Didn’t reconcile.

“We pulled over twenty pieces of lead out of yar back,” he said. “A bunch more here and there. One nurse ya ticked off suggested we just use corks to keep the sheets from getting’ bloody and leave ’em be. But ya had so many holes, didn’t need ya gettin’ any stupider with lead poisonin’. Jeez ya took a lot of blood. I never would have guessed an ogre held that much. I told ’em to charge ya double.”

Over twenty. The hand that wasn’t tied down by a dozen doodads reached about my chest. Felt like I had that many bandaged spots on my chest and arms. The expression, center mass, came to mind. They weren’t tryin’ to wing me. Mean folk.

I could recall ’em rollin’ me into this room recently. Seemed like I was somewhere else for days. Where the machine pings and dings were even more irritatin’, and a nurse always stood a few feet away.

He held a fist with a couple fingers extended in front of my face. “How many fingers?”

“As a surgeon, hope ya have five on each hand.”

“Funny. Any blurriness?”

I asked him where he went. He growled. Like I cared. “What day is it?”

“I’m askin’ the questions here,” he said.

“No. Really. How long have I been here?”

His brow and eyes scrunched up. What could that mean? “Ya’ve been here four days. Ya know we speak Standish around here. Ya don’t have to use Trollish.”

I didn’t feel like gettin’ into that.

“So Jam. Is good?” I asked.

“He’s up flirtin’ with every nurse in the hospital. He likes the scrubs we gave him to wear, so scampers up and down the halls like a hamster. We’d kick him out of here if he had someplace to go. Been wantin’ to see ya. I told him tomorrow.”

“He told me ya have a Hilton here.” I sighed. “He about got me killed. Why would I want to see him?”

He laughed. “Ya have an evil stripe in ya, ogre. If ya feel up to it in the mornin’ we’ll give ya a cognitive test. That bullet in the side of yar head didn’t penetrate anythin’ important, but all concussions, even in stupid ogres, are worth worryin’ about.”

“Seems ya’ve gotten to know me well,” I said, decidin’ to leave the “important” comment alone this time around.

“Four days. Ya get more irritatin’ by the minute.” He laughed again, touched my shoulder with two long fingers and walked out of the room.

I sighed. About time he left. What an irritatin’ troll.

My phone still sat on the little rollin’ table in front of me. I hadn’t felt up to liftin’ it yet. Stretchin’ forward to grab it made nothin’ feel good. Made me hurt good. They must have taken some lead out of my skinny ogre butt, too.

The phone read ninety-five percent. Someone had charged it for me. Jam probably snuck in here. Be like him to stick his nose in my business. Gazillion messages. Multiple texts from Ma, Pa, Ezra, and Ike. And Zia. I’d save hers for last, pulled up Ike’s.

Only said to give him a call when I felt up to it. I didn’t feel up to it. Might not ever. Was kinda nice not knowin’ what’s goin’ on in the world.

Mama’s most recent texts rang irritated. Back in time she sounded more concerned. That’s sweet. Said she was gonna kill me for givin’ her such a scare.

Pa just sent me a smiley face every day. Good. Last thin’ I need is unnecessary emotion. Never know how to respond to that stuff.

Ezra’s most entertainin’ text was, “Thought ya were bright enough not to play as a shootin’ target.

I pushed down a catch in my breath and pulled up Zia’s. About twenty since I left Asog’s place. The pain in her words actually pressed in on my chest. I’m not used to anyone drivin’ that kind of emotion in me. I read each message five times. Could she really be in love with me?

I texted her, “Can ya talk?”

My phone rang a half-second later.

For five minutes I have no idea what she said. Don’t know if it was the speed she rattled, or the octave was more appropriate for canines—or dolphins. She finally stopped after askin’ how I felt, I think for the fifth time.

“Like I’m in heaven now,” I said.

I never knew a troll giggle could sound so sweet. Or that any giant could actually giggle.

~

Nuel

~

I guess folk acted nicer this time around when the electricity turned on. It was a relief the grid remained up. Hope the fools learned it could be flipped off a third time. Still boggled my mind those nuts in the South so easily shut the North down so completely—and the North couldn’t figger out how to undo it.

Civilization really relies on electricity these days. Be really bad if it didn’t stay on.

Pa and I still sat in front of the TV watchin’ the news, though little had changed in the last ten hours. On the negotiation stage, there were a lot of demands. A lot of complaints. The parties were so far apart. It’s like the North couldn’t figger out they didn’t have any stones to throw.

“They oughtta just scuttle the entire Navy,” Papa said. “They’re bein’ so stinkin’ obstinate.”

“We’re only hearin’ one point of view,” I said.

He snorted. “Not so sure I’d believe anythin’ NNN said anyway. I think the South was right keepin’ their broadcastin’ shut down.”

“How ya suppose they did that?” I murmured.

“You’re the one with a master’s in IT,” he said. “Let ’em call us stupid one more time.”

I sighed. “I’m really sorry about the graffiti they painted across the front of yar house.”

“Don’t get me goin’ again,” he grumbled. “Can’t wait to get out of here.”

“So ya are?” I asked.

He remained quiet a long time. Clearly still conflicted. But there had been so much bad water under the bridge the last month. “I was born here. Raised ya here. But this isn’t home any longer.”

A moment later he was wonderin’ where the bosomy news reader was. I thought her voice was a little nasal.

Kriz’ picture flicked on the screen again, as the ON reporter claimed his condition improved and expected to return South soon. Ike’s photo replaced Kriz’ as the reporter commented on the irony that one cousin was the face of Northern cruelty while the other the face of Southern aggression. I snorted. Who sent their Navy to threaten whom?

I thought about the cost to Ike. The reporter was ignorin’ the cost he was payin’. OI and OW stock was practically worthless since the fit hit the shan.

OW would never have to market in the North again, because there wasn’t a human alive gonna pay a nickle for another ogre product. It occurred to me OI would recoup some capital when the South sold all those Northern battleships to folks across the world.

Papa asked me what I was laughin’ about.

I sobered quickly. Not a single bomb exploded, except on the stock market. The world economy was still gonna be a mess for years to come. Not really a laughin’ matter.

Ike maybe isn’t so smart after all.

But was it entirely his call?

What was I askin’?

Of course it wasn’t. I’d watched firsthand Black Lake Council business bein’ transacted. Those old bulls argued like angry wasps. And it wasn’t just the eleven clans from the Range behind the South’s reaction.

How many clans might there be in the deep South? Did humans and giants mingle in the same clan? Wouldn’t that be weird. As far as I know, clan is all about shared blood. And patriarchal.

The screen displayed a shot of a group of battleships now. The reporter suggested Ike is central to their eventual disposition. Yep. Ike is the face of all of it, but he only truly represented a slice of the coalition.

Of course, he owned the company behind the trigger that turned the North off.

I chuckled inside. No. Those sneaky trolls had their long fingers in everything. Were much brighter about keepin’ their face off the news. Is Ike responsible for easin’ their profile in the news? Purposefully? I thought back to that memory card the attorney gave Kriz. Nope, it wasn’t just ogres behind the North’s embarrassment.

Ike would be gettin’ somethin’ from the trolls for keepin’ ’em out of the news. Or maybe their payment had been that SD card.

Papa put a hand on my knee. “Yar face is sayin’ a whole bunch.”