The good news was that at least he hadn't been hit in the thigh, so Manello was going to stay above the waist.
"Good," the doc said as he came back over. "Now, I think we can handle this all locally, and the fewer drugs the better. So I'd like to take a shot at not putting you out cold, okay?"
"I don't care, Doc. You just do you. "
"I like your attitude. And we're going to start with this one on your upper chest. This may sting as I numb you up - "
"Fuuuuck. "
"Sorry about that. "
"Nothing you can do. " Well, other than taking a spike and nailing him to the table.
As Manello settled into his work, Tohr closed his eyes and thought of No'One. "I don't have to stay down here after this, do I?"
"If you were a human? Absolutely. But this shit's already healing up. Goddamn, you guys are amazing. "
"So I can go right back to the mansion. "
"Well, yeah. . . eventually. " There was a resounding bonk! - as if the guy had dropped one of the lead slugs on the tray. "I think Mary wanted to check in with you first. "
"Why?"
"She just wants to, you know, check in. "
Tohr focused a glare on the guy. "Why. "
"Do you realize how lucky you are that you didn't end up - "
"I don't need to 'talk' to her, if that's what you're getting at. "
"Look, I'm not going to get in the middle of this. "
"I'm fine - "
"You got yourself shot up tonight. "
"Hazard of the job - "
"Bullshit. You are not 'fine,' and you do need to 'talk' to someone. Asshole. " On the fine and the talk, the human gestured with his hands, doing air quotes in spite of the fact that his fingers were busy holding instruments.
Tohr shut his eyes in frustration. "Look, I'll follow up with Mary when I can. . . but right after this, I'm busy. "
In reply, the surgeon covered all kinds of mental health territory, most of which was punctuated by f-bombs.
Not Tohr's problem, though.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Over to the east, in the thick of Caldwell's farm country, Zypher sat in silence upon his top bunk. He was far from alone in the Band of Bastards' basement accommodations. The three cousins were with him, each as capable of conversation as he was, but likewise not inclined to indulge.
There was no real movement among them. No sounds except for the whispers of his whittling knife as he cleaved it into soft wood again and again.
No one was sleeping.
Whilst dawn settled over the land and claimed its illuminative dominion, their thoughts were similarly subsumed, the weight of the actions of their leader settling heavily upon them.
It was not at all unfathomable that Xcor had so brutally stabbed Throe for his insubordination. It was not unbelievable that he had then ordered the rest of them away such that their fellow soldier was left for dead for the enemy.