“You need to be careful,” Vince said. “The healing isn’t done yet. Don’t hit his head.”
“The hell are you all talking about?”
Confusion made me dizzy. They were all acting strange.
“Tie the bag,” Dad said. “Make it look like it’s nothing but garbage.”
“Got it,” Rasp said.
“Jesus, he’s a heavy motherfucker,” Vince added, though he stood beside me, not holding anything.
“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is
?
-“
“Shit, he’s awake. I thought you said he’d be out for hours.”
“Uh, I guess dragons are really fucking strong. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, we need to hurry. Help me.”
The voices, both male, were slightly muffled by the black crinkly plastic over my head. The bag was also half filled with actual trash. The nauseating reek of old tuna and the rancid smell of empty beer cans made me gag. Crushed paper and plastic wrapping cushioned. A few tiny air holes had been punched into the bag, but not big enough for me to get a look at anything outside.
I tried to speak, but my head was still too fuzzy, plus the disorientation of finding myself in such a strange predicament gave everything a surreal perspective.
I was hefted upward, the plastic stretching and smashing against my face. Breathing became difficult as the thick sheeting tried to seal my nose and mouth. I was too weak to fight against it.
What felt like two sets of arms cradled my massive body. Finally finding some semblance of strength, I pawed at the plastic, desperate to find an opening and get out of this suffocating and steaming hot enclosure.
“Aurelius, stop,” a voice hissed. “Let me help you. We can’t draw attention.”
Help? Someone was helping me?
“Someone’s coming,” the first voice said. “Freddy, get out of sight. Hurry.”
Freddy? Was this the plan?
“Got it,” Freddy’s familiar voice whispered.
I went limp and tried to listen to what was happening outside.
“What are you two doing?” a new voice said.
“Nothing special. Just taking out a load of trash,” the second of my possible rescuers said, sounding remarkably casual.
“Jesus H. Christ, that bag looks big enough to hold a fucking body. What are you taking out?”
The men holding me were silent for a beat, and it was at that moment of silence that I realized how much better I felt after the healers had worked on me. I wasn’t a hundred percent, but I was getting better by the moment.
“Very funny,” one of the men holding me said. “No, it’s from one of the break rooms in the basement actually. You security guys really know how to be pigs. Maybe we should let you haul it out?”
The security guard grumbled. “No need. We do most of the work around here. Fucking healers think that because you get to use magic all the time, you’re special. Taking some trash out actually sounds like a good job for you two. Have at it.”
“Thanks.
Dick,” the other man holding me said.
“Watch your mouth, nursemaid,” the security guy said, and I heard the clomp of departing booted footsteps.
“Okay, he’s gone. Let’s move. Freddy, come on.”
“This way,” Freddy said.
I touched my chest. It was free of Dragon’s Blood resin, and my wrists and ankles weren’t bound anymore. That alone was helping me recover. At the back of my mind, my dragon was stirring, reawakening. He was pissed, and I had to force him to stand down. He wanted me to shift and allow him to lay waste to the Laurent estate, but we couldn’t do that. Not yet at least.
The temperature suddenly changed, and I could only assume we were outside. I sighed in relief. I was away from that torture cell.
“In here,” Freddy said.
The clanking sound of a truck tailgate being lowered rattled through the quiet.
“Sorry about this, buddy,” one of the men said.
They swung me back and forth, and on the third swing, they hefted me into the truck. I crashed into what felt and smelled like more garbage. I retched at the stench of old grease, used tissues, spoiled food, and old coffee grounds. It was nearly enough to send me back into unconsciousness. A second after I landed, the door closed.
After a minute of silence, I risked clawing my way out of the bag, finally escaping the claustrophobic confines. I took a deep breath, and immediately regretted it. Gagging, I clamped a hand to my nose, but that didn’t help. It was like the stench had settled into my mucous membranes.
Toward the front of the truck, a small window slid aside, and Freddy’s face appeared in the gap. Behind him, through the windshield, the night sky was visible.
“Sorry about this,” Freddy said, nodding at the trash bags all around me. “It was the only way I knew to get you out unseen. The trash masks your scent. Smart, huh?”
I finished dragging myself from the bag. “You’re really rescuing me?”
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