Lightning Game (GhostWalkers #17) -Christine Feehan Page 0,162

you anywhere in this situation,” Wyatt said.

Rubin stepped out from between the men guarding him and strode straight to the man he thought looked in the worst shape. He was sitting on the grass, alert but curled into himself. He had a yellowish tinge to his skin and orange in his eyes, indicating his liver wasn’t functioning properly.

“You feeling extremely fatigued?”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier acknowledged.

His uniform indicated he was Army, a member of Green Berets. “Your name?” Rubin knelt in the grass beside the soldier, ignoring the horror on the man’s face.

“Sergeant Major Brick Zion, sir. I can stand.”

“You can lie down right where you are. I’m going to examine you the way GhostWalkers are often examined. You’re going to feel heat. I want you to remain very still while I do this. I need to see what’s going on with you.” Rubin’s voice was low but stern, expecting no arguments. He was wearing his uniform, declaring he was a colonel in the Air Force. He had stated he was a GhostWalker. No one was going to quarrel with a thing he said.

“Yes, sir.”

Wyatt came up on the other side of the downed man. All the men watched with great interest as Rubin and Wyatt extended their hands, palms down over the sergeant major’s body and began moving them over him, a scant inch from him. Anyone could see the light bursting from Wyatt’s palms. It was much more difficult to see the light coming from under Rubin’s.

The two men exchanged a long look. Liver’s in bad shape. He’s leaking too much blood, Wyatt said. Can you save him?

Rubin nodded. He’s not nearly as bad as the squirrel men. I think Jonquille could do this one on her own. I won’t let her yet, she’s not ready, but she could if we were in trouble. He’s serious, and we need to get to him immediately, but it’s not an intricate operation. Let’s move on to the next one.

Wyatt nodded.

“All right, Sergeant Major. You’re going to need surgery, but you should be fine. You’ll have to be transfused and your liver looks like hell. Drinking is out for you from now on, so if you really like the taste, you might want to make a resolution to decide you don’t like it after all. You get me?”

“Yes, sir.”

For the first time Brick Zion looked hopeful. His friends broke into grins. One started to say something, but at the last minute, stopped himself.

Rubin and Wyatt moved to the next man seated in the grass. Just observing him for a moment, Rubin realized this man was having trouble breathing and doing his best to conceal it. He caught the man’s hand and looked at his fingernails and then up at his lips. Was there a bluish tinge?

“Your name?”

“Chief Petty Officer Harris Ledes, sir.” Every word was gasped out, his chest and belly moving in and out rapidly.

Rubin wasn’t certain the best thing for the man was to lie down. “Does Chandler have a medical room? Someplace he would keep oxygen?” He looked to Jarod Barnard, the Marine from the Raider Regiment.

“Yes, sir.”

“I need that now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“One of my men will accompany you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Barnard didn’t seem to take offense when Malichai went with him. If the soldier noticed that Malichai was on an artificial leg, he didn’t comment on it. Rubin hoped he wasn’t stupid enough, or desperate enough, to try to escape or challenge Malichai. The order was clear: If anyone got out of line, they weren’t to hesitate to kill them. Malichai would carry out that order, and he was fast and deadly.

“We’re going to examine you, the same way we assessed Sergeant Major Zion. You’ll feel heat. Just stay still and let us do this.” Rubin was extremely concerned. He passed his palms over the chest area first, looking at the heart and lungs from every angle. Wyatt did the same. They examined the arteries going to the heart and up into the neck and brain and then to the lower extremities. Rubin didn’t make the mistake of letting anything show on his face.

He’s a mess. He’s going to have to be operated on first. We’ll need to set that up right away. He’ll need lines in him now, or we’ll lose him, Wyatt. Draden never misses. Get him working on him. See if any of Ryland’s men can help. I’ll assess the next patient while you’re setting up to operate on this one. I’m calling in Jonquille. We’ve got Bellisia