Read Reflex for Free Online Page B

something, but stopped and instead held up his hand, palm out, as if to say, "Slow." Then he offered the straw again.
    Davy drank small sips this time and managed not to aspirate any more water. He was oddly heartened by the fact they were taking such care to avoid recognition. It implied they weren't going to kill him outright. It also implied they were scared of him.
    When he finished, the man went through an open door to the side. Davy heard running water briefly, then the man was back, placing the Styrofoam cup on a side table.
    Davy remembered Cox's blood splashing across his face. They're right to be scared.
    He considered jumping away, immediately, even though they were watching, but he'd prefer to do it silently.
    Who knew about the meeting? I'm never working for the NSA again.
    Then a horrible thought occurred to him. "Why can't I sit up?" His voice sounded better this time, still an octave lower than usual, but less raspy.
    The man in the surgical mask looked over at the mirror.
    The distorted voice came over the speaker.
    "Do. Show him."
    The man reached over and pulled the covers slowly down, all the way to Davy's feet.
    He was dressed in a hospital gown and his bare legs stuck out. A clear plastic tube ran out from under the gown with stretches of clear yellow fluid within. Oh, Christ! It was a urinary catheter. He thought about jumping with it in place and winced. However, that wasn't what was keeping him from sitting up.
    They were more elaborate than the usual ICU restraining straps. The cuffs were padded but they were surrounded by stainless steel and the chains attached to them with small padlocks looked heavy enough for playground swings. The man lifted the covers a bit higher and he saw the same restraining cuffs at his ankles.
    They know.
    The distorted voice on the speaker confirmed this. "We were relieved to find you're restrainable. You tried to teleport several times as you were coming out from under the anesthetics."
    The stiffness in his shoulders suddenly made sense. He lifted his right knee and winced. Those joints had been stressed, too.
    "What do you want?"
    There was a noticeable pause. "Ah. Well, we'll get to that. You rest for right now. You've still got some recovering to do."
    The attendant chose this moment to pull the covers back up to Davy's chin.
    Davy blinked. "Recovering? From what?"
    Again, there was a pause. "Just recovering."
     
    They brought him food two hours later. One of them was the first man, recognizable by his ears and bushy eyebrows. The other was obviously female but dressed and masked the same. The chains clanked behind him, lengthening to the point where they could crank the back of the bed up and he could lift his hands high enough to feed himself. They worked without talking and the voice from the other side of the mirror was silent, making Davy wonder if one of his attendants was the voice, or if it had been this man or that bitch who shot Brian. He remembered the ambulance crew and wondered how many people were involved in his capture and keeping.
    The food was a surprise. The soup was lobster bisque, the bread was fresh whole-grained, the salad was baby greens. This is not from an institutional kitchen. On the other hand, the silverware was plastic and the plates and bowl were paper. His brain thought he was starving but his body quit abruptly after a few bites of each dish.
    "What if I need to defecate?" He asked abruptly. The male held up his hand and reached under the bedside table, bringing out a stainless steel bedpan.
    "Yuck. Why don't you just bring a portable toilet and put it beside the bed. Surely you could loosen the chains enough for that."
    The man exchanged glances with woman, who shrugged, then they both looked at the mirrored window.
    The distorted voice came on, still sounding like a cross between Hal and machinery, but, somehow sounding different than before. "We'll see what can be arranged. Do you need the bedpan now?"
    Different shift, Davy