Page 48 of Flame and Fury

The doctor isn’t gentle or precise as he stabs a pair of forceps into the bullet wound. He roots around inside my chest like someone searching under their couch for a lost quarter.I clench my jaw so tightly I’m pretty sure I crack a tooth.

Fucking gods.

Sweat pours off my face. My body trembles as I try to hold in a scream. I grab hold of the side of the stretcher, clasping the bars so tightly my fingers leave imprints on the metal.

“There we go.” After a lifetime of the doctor digging around just below my collarbone, he finally gets hold of the bullet and pulls it out. I almost puke.

The relief is immediate. Not just because the doctor–and I use that term loosely–got that damn tool out of me, but because there was something coating that bullet.

Hydra blood. Isn’t that what the guys who wheeled me in here said?

My wounds will heal much faster now that the damned poisonous bullet is out of my flesh. That doesn’t mean the toxin isn’t still lingering in my system. It’s going to take me longer to heal than normal. In this case that’s probably a good thing. I don’t need the good doctor wondering why my wounds are closing up with god-like speed. Especially since I’m supposed to be human.

He sews up the bullet wound first and then goes to work on my stomach. Compared to the probing he’d done in my chest, this feels like butterfly kisses. Still, it doesn’t take a genius to realize that he’s done a shit job with the sutures. I wasn’t stabbed by a blade of Hephaestus so eventually the scars will go away completely, but seriously who is this second-rate hack?

The door to the medical bay swings open, and a very large woman dressed in a white orderly outfit marches into the room. She comes to a stop next to the doctor's side and they both stare down at me. It’s a study in opposites. The doctor looks like he could be blown away by a stiff breeze, while the orderly is at least six foot two. She must have a part-time side gig as a bodybuilder because her muscles are massive and strain the confines of her white cotton uniform. Her face has a pinched look to it, with deep grooves surrounding her mouth, like they’ve been worn into her skin from frowning too much.

She glares down at me. I’m doing my best to lie still and ignore both of them. “Isn’t she ready to go yet?”

The doctor rips off a latex glove, snapping it in the air. “Just finishing her up, my pet.”

Are these two a couple? Am I still passed out in the middle of a field somewhere because this is the stuff of nightmares. I’ve been turned over to a mad scientist and his overly eager helper.

“All right, princess, enough lounging around. You might be done with the Olympus Games, but your biggest challenge is just starting.” The orderly grabs my arm and yanks me upright before pulling me off the gurney.

Holy shit. It’s a miracle my stitches didn’t just pop. A pained breath hisses through my clenched teeth. It takes a second for the room to stop spinning and I wobble before I regain my balance. The orderly doesn’t give a shit. It takes a second for the rest of her words to sink in.Done with the Olympus Games.It worked.

“Stop lollygagging.” Her grip is still tight on my arm. She drags me out of the medical bay and into the hallway with stomping steps.

It’s all I can do to keep up with her. I’m still weak from the Hydra poison and the blood loss. Now that the bullet is gone, I’m slowly regaining my strength. Another fifteen minutes would’ve been appreciated, though.

“Where are we going?” I should probably stay quiet and just wait and see, but I really want to know.

The bright white halls are sterile, and an antiseptic smell assaults my nose. My initial guess is that I’m in a hospital, except there aren’t any other patients or doctors in the hall. It’s too quiet.

“You’re going wherever I take you. Keep your mouth shut and be glad you weren’t left to fester and die during your challenge.” She laughs like the idea of my body being eaten away by poison and left to rot in a field is hilarious.

Here’s the thing, this woman isn’t a demi-god. There’s no hint of anything divine in her blood. She’s just a run-of-the-mill human. Okay, maybe not run-of-the-mill since she is also part mountain. It just goes to show that there are shitty people everywhere. Poor people, the elites, the gods. There’s no exclusivity to being an asshole. On the flipside, I’m finding that there are some gods who might not be all that bad.

I shut up and let the woman drag me down one corridor after another. We finally come to a stop in front of a door that the orderly unlocks with a keycard. It swings open to reveal a completely different world on the other side. Much like the training compound, there are two very distinct areas here. There’s the cold clinical side which we just came from, and beyond the door is an opulent and richly decorated hallway.

The white tile floors are replaced with plush gray carpet. My booted feet sink down as we step through the door. I’m still in my clothes from the challenge. They’re damp from the rain and covered in blood and mud. It’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about infections. Gods.

We’re still on a lower level, but the ceilings are higher in this part of the building. Small crystal chandeliers hang every fifteen feet from the ceiling, throwing off a soft light in contrast to the glaring white of the other side.

The wallpaper is pale with a pattern of tiny flowers. It looks like an eighty-year-old picked it out. It’s probably really expensive but way too fussy for my taste. Not that I have any design sense. My apartment is fully furnished with things that used to belong to my parents, so I guess I don’t have any room to talk.

The orderly stops in front of another door, going through the same process of unlocking it before she shoves me inside.

“Wait here until someone comes to get you.” With that, she locks the door leaving me alone.

CHAPTER27

ATLAS

“You’re so lucky. Do you get to spend a lot of time with your father? I can’t believe you’re one of Zeus’s sons.”

I woke up in a white room to a nurse cleaning up my chest where I was shot. She hasn’t shut up since my eyes opened. Even when the doctor sewed up my wound. Now she’s leading me down a carpeted hallway that looks like part of a hotel.

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