Black Friday (or Black Market) - James Patterson [76]
This was so horrible, too horrible, too much for anyone to take much longer. What happened to him then? What did it feel like when you cracked wide open? … The severe gagging stopped as soon as he wasn’t thinking about it.
Hudson began to scream. He was swimming toward some kind of release. Eternity was rushing forward—leaping at him in the form of a sea of leeches, screeching, clawing monkeys, indistinct, shadowy, jungle insects and reptiles. He screamed for hours without end.
Then the prison camp guards came!
So suddenly.
They were there! On him! Everywhere!
Busy hands were scrabbling, poking, reaching all over his body …
Hot hands were probing, continually poking him. Blood roared in the funnels of Hudson’s ears. The vicious leeches were crawling all over him, too. Sharp little leech stings. Strong hands were lifting him.
Then whispering, almost choral voices. There were no distinct, recognizable words.
“Leave me alone! Leave me alone!” Hudson was pinioned down and helpless. “Please leave me alone!”
Something large and jet black, a huge flapping bird grabbed on to his face. It smelled like burning rubber, even worse than that. It began to crawl all over his face.
“Get it off me! Get it off me! Please get it off me!”
A shaft of light suddenly opened. Gleaming, almost beautiful light shone in his deep dark tunnel of terror.
A scream came that seemed very far away …. No! … It was his own scream.
Impossible.
Impossible.
This was so impossible.
Army corpsmen were staring down …
Army corpsmen were staring down …
Army corpsmen were staring down …
Ours.
Our corpsmen!
Chapter 55
“BREATHE DEEPLY, CAPTAIN HUDSON. Just breathe now. Just breathe. Breathe. There, that’s good. That’s very good …. That’s excellent, Captain Hudson.
“It’s pure oxygen, Captain. Oxygen! Don’t think right now. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe deeply.”
White cloth straps were holding him tightly, painfully so. Blue and red plastic tubes ran in and out of his nose. More tubes were connected to his arms and legs. Colored wires, rubber plugs were attached to his chest, and from there to an icy blue machine.
“Captain Hudson. Captain, can you hear me? Can you understand me?”
“You’re in the Womack Hospital at Fort Bragg, Captain. You’re going to be all right. Just fine. Captain, can you understand me? You’re in the Womack Hospital?”
“Oh please help me.”
He was sobbing uncontrollably for the first time since he’d been a little boy. What was happening? Oh please, what was this? What was real and what wasn’t?
“Captain, you’re in the Fort Bragg Center. You’re in the JFK Special Forces Center. Captain Hudson? Captain? … just breathe the oxygen! Captain, that’s an order. Breathe in … breathe out … that’s very good. Very, very good. That’s excellent.”
Lying on his back, staring silently up at vague forms and swimming shapes, David Hudson thought that maybe he knew this man. How was that?
Familiar voice? Familiar drooping blond walrus moustache. Did he know him? Was the man actually there? Hudson reached forward to touch, but couldn’t move because of the cloth straps.
“Captain Hudson, you’re in the Fort Bragg Center for Special Forces. This was a stress and tolerance test. Do you remember now?
“Captain Hudson, this has been a drug-induced test. You haven’t left this room inside the hospital. You were flashing back to Viet Nam.”
Nothing real?
None of this happened? …
No—there had been a Viet Cong prison camp!
Hallucinations? …
There had been a Lizard Man!
Oh, please, make this all stop now.
“Captain Hudson, you revealed nothing about your mission. You passed your tolerance test. Flying colors. You were really great. Congratulations.”
Mission?
A test?
Sure thing. Just a little pop quiz. Okay.
“You’re beginning to understand illusion, Captain. You refused to be interrogated under drugs …. You’re learning to be illusion’s master. You’re learning the fine art of deception, Captain Hudson. The art