Page 6 of Fighting Gravity
Ok, Oswald. Ozzy? No, Norman. Norm for short. It was easier than Dickhead, Shit Face, or Cock Wad.
Cock Wad… I laughed internally at that one.
Slowly and painfully, I sat up, watching him remain in the shadows in front of me like a creep. He watched my every move like I was under a microscope. Scooting to the edge of the metal slab, I hung my legs over the side and glowered at Norm with all the hatred I could muster in my weak facial muscles.
“What’d you do to me?” I asked, feeling much too battered to try and fight my way out at that point. “You violate me? Seems like something a coward like you would do,” I said.
Norm tilted his head to the other side and slowly stood, sauntering toward me. I watched him, unmoving, staring right into those shadowy eyes just to make sure he knew I wasn’t broken.
When he was close enough to spit on, he raised his hand and my body flinched away from him. Pathetic, but seeing as I couldn’t throw a punch, jumping was all I had. And it wasn’t as if he’d given me a reason to trust his hand being that close.
He hesitated a moment and then continued what he was doing, unfolding a metal device that lit up red and scanned down my face with a dim laser. When it beeped, his eyes looked at the readings on what I assumed was some kind of medical scanner, and then he folded it back up and tossed it lazily on the table beside me.
I wrinkled my nose, my fingers biting into the edge of the slab. Short, greasy strands of black hair hung in my face and I didn’t care. I looked and felt like shit, but he’d have to deal with that. If he wanted to kill me slowly, he was doing a great job.
“You’re a real piece of shit. No wonder the valerians hate you guys.”
“What are humans trading?” he asked.
“Military.”
He grabbed my wrist, slamming my hand down on the table and poising the same blade he used before right over my middle finger as if he was going to slice it right off.
Shit, that was my favorite finger. The one I used the most, anyways.
I gasped, bracing for the pain, but he didn’t go through with it. Not yet.
“What are you trading?” he repeated.
“Military,” I said through my teeth, scowling.
The blade sunk a little, drawing a little blood. I flared my nostrils, trying to keep m eyes on him. My breath became ragged as I prepared for the actual slice that would take my finger. Still, he refrained, waiting. But I had nothing else to give.
When he realized I wasn’t talking, he lifted the blade and sighed sharply.
“You’ll talk eventually,” he said.
“Will I?” I muttered, nursing the little cut on my finger.
My heart was racing. I knew I was attached to my middle finger, but the threat of losing it really did a number on my mind. Which I expected was the point.
I paused, looking around the room for information. I wanted to know how the ship worked. How their medical machines ran. Everything. But I couldn’t get a good look. It was all so foreign.
“So? How do you know English? And don’t say you learned from my Buddy. That’d be ridiculous.”
Norm stared, expressionless. “I learned from your ‘Buddy.’”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. Now give me something useful or I’ll dump you out an airlock.”
“Tempting. I’m getting sick of looking at you already.”
Norm flipped his knife around in his hand and slipped it back into his belt before stepping away.
“What’d you do to me while I was unconscious? Better not be some sick, pervert shit. Been there, done that. And the last guy that forgot what ‘no’ meant is a eunuch now, sooo…”
“I did nothing.” His eyes roamed over me once before I saw his nose twitch. “To touch you in that way would be an insult to my gods.”
