THE MADAGASCAR MATTER – Chapter Twelve
The pain echoing around inside my skull dragged me back to consciousness with all the gentleness of a runaway train hitting a watermelon. My eyes popped open, brilliant white light made me scream and wince, and then I vomited all over myself.
I would have wiped my mouth, but my hands were tied behind my back. Instead, I spit the remnants of whatever I’d last had to eat on to the ground and then cleared my throat. “So glad you find this amusing.”
I didn’t get a response and so I opened my eyes again.
Another wave of concussive light poured in and made me groan. “Turn off the fucking light.”
More laughter. “Ain’t no light.”
I eased my eyes open while staring at what I presumed was the ground. This time, I could see he was telling the truth. We were outside, but not in the city any longer. I was sitting cross-legged on the ground in a pool of my own vomit. The stench made my stomach roll again but I bit down and fought back the urge to repeat myself.
“Where am I?”
“High plains, Mr. Lawson.”
I risked a quick look up. Judging by the ebony skin and white smile staring back at me, Joobah’s men must have somehow found Andrian and me and chosen to keep me alive. At least for the time being…
© 2010 by Jon F. Merz All rights reserved
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