Eden's Hammer - By Lloyd Tackitt Page 0,73

in it and a screw mechanism to tighten it, like on a car’s radiator hose, only larger. “I’m going to put these on your arms and legs, way up high on each one, then tighten the hell out of them. It will cut off the blood to your limbs, and by the time you’re found, they’ll have to be amputated. The amputation will be done by your doctor at your hospital to save your life. Oh, he’ll hate to do it, but he will do it. You know how doctors are—got to save that life, right?

“The rest is quick and simple: I’ll cut out your tongue and cauterize it with a hot knife to stop the bleeding. You’ll enjoy that, won’t you? Then a screwdriver, driven into each ear to burst the eardrums so you won’t be able to hear. Oh, I’ll heat it up until it’s red-hot first so there won’t be any bacteria to infect you—beautiful, eh? The screwdriver that tightens the clamp serves three purposes. Last but most certainly not least, I push the red-hot screwdriver slowly into your eyes, blinding you in a most exquisite way.

“You see what will be left? No arms, no legs, can’t talk, can’t hear, and can’t see—oh, and bonus! You won’t be able to taste the baby food they feed you. You’ll be able to feel sensations in your body, and think, oh you’ll think a lot. You’ll have Itches you can’t scratch, and pains that you can’t do anything about except endure. Your mind will be locked into a dark place with no input except pain. You’ll go insane, and best of all, you’ll stay insane and won’t be able to do a damn thing about it except hate me, hate knowing that I am still alive and whole. You’ll spend the rest of your life in impotent rage and hate. I’ll enjoy that; I’ll think about it all the time. For as long as you live, I will be laughing my ass off at you. But wait, there’s more! As they said on TV. When I know you’re dead, I’m going to come back and kill your family, one at a vicious time.

“You can ponder on that and try to stay alive as long as possible, hoping I die before you do.” Rex started laughing, a wild, cacophonous laughter. Then suddenly, he stopped laughing and just leered at Adrian.

Adrian watched Rex’s insane face, listened to his insane plan, and knew Rex would do exactly what he said. He knew Rex was right: trapped inside his brain like that, he would go insane and suffer agonies he could never imagine in his worst nightmares. Adrian couldn’t close his eyes to stop looking up into that leering face above him. He realized that once Rex began putting the clamp on his right arm, he was done for, there would be nothing left he could do. There was only one thing he could try to do, a once normally inconsequential movement, and the odds were so stacked against him that it was a forlorn hope at best. But since it was the one and only thing that he could try to do, he would put everything he had into doing it.

Rex hadn’t tripped the tripwire. He apparently hadn’t seen it, either. Rex was squatted down more or less in line with the shotgun. If he would only move his arm two inches, he’d release the trip wire. Two tiny inches. If Rex picked that arm up to put on the clamp, it would be impossible to do it. It had to be now, while he was in full gloating mode, before he began to actually put the clamp on. Rex sounded like he would go on talking for a long time, but then again, Rex was aware of how long the paralysis would last, and Adrian wasn’t. Adrian began by mentally closing his eyes. He couldn’t physically close his eyes, but he could pretend they were closed and try to quit seeing that hate filled face. He didn’t need that distraction. He also turned Rex’s words into a buzzing noise—much less irritating. Then he began focusing his full consciousness on one thing and one thing only: moving that right arm onto the trip wire. A small movement under normal circumstances. A herculean task now.

Adrian couldn’t feel his body. If he moved his arm, he wouldn’t know it. He couldn’t turn his head to see it. If his arm started to move, he