Читать книгу Sinbad: Rogue of Mars - John Garavaglia - Страница 9

Desperate for air, the man coughed violently. He hacked up plugs of putrid sand from his mouth and nose.

Matthias pointed to the stranger’s face. “Its eyes are opening, Father!”

“Here,” Azrak said to the pink life form, “take this. You have traveled a long way, my friend. It is my honor and privilege to have found you.”

The man opened his eyes to discover the silhouettes of three oddly shaped strange beings standing over him in front of a blinding pink sky. Their eyes were much wider than any human being. Their skin was as blue as the sea itself and neither of them had any noses. He looked at the adult through half-closed eyes. His lips, dry and parched, quivered as he struggled to talk.

Azrak feared that the impact from the crash might have given the injured stranger a concussion. He had to keep him awake. It didn’t matter what the subject of the conversation would be; as long as the Azurian man would keep the man awake.

“I know you must be in terrible pain, my friend,” said Azrak, looking over the strange man’s wounds. His attention was fully focused on the dislocated arm. “But can you move your arm?”

The man grunted with effort, and sucked his teeth in pain. Beads of sweat dripped through the pores of his forehead, and his face turned red.

“I think it’s broken,” he answered the tall blue man.

Azrak studied the severe ailment. “It’s not broken, only dislocated.”

“Can you put it back into place?”

“Yes, I can,” Azrak replied, placing his hands on the man’s shoulder. “I must warn you, the pain will be excruciating.”

The man took a breath and looked at Azrak in a state of readiness. “Then do it.”

Azrak gripped the man’s shoulder. “Be still. I’m going to do it on the count of three.”

JOHN GARAVAGLIA

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