Toys

Chapter 23

This was the finest hospital in the world-and long ago I had learned this axiom from my mother and father: greatest strength is also greatest weakness.

How could I work with that? There had to be a way out of this. But what was it? What could I do now?

Greatest strength is greatest weakness, I repeated over and over in my head.

Late that night, the highly sensitive cardio monitor near my bed let out a sudden bleep. The steady rhythmic line on the screen jumped along with the sound.

A second later it bleeped again, then started into a rapid-fire alarm pattern, while the line leaped in erratic peaks.

A guard stepped into the room-his face hard and wary. Not a shred of sympathy.

“What’s going on here?” he barked.

“My heart,” I gasped. “Racing like crazy. Won’t stop. Feels like it’s going to explode.”

The guard looked at the cardio monitor, then didn’t waste any time-he wheeled around and ordered his partner, “Get the doctors the hell in here! Do it. Now. He’s having a heart attack-a big one!”

That was one thing I had in my favor. They wanted me alive, not dead; they had questions that needed answering… about how I got to be me.

Greatest strength is greatest weakness. This was the most efficient hospital in the world-they weren’t going to let me die.

I revved my heart rate even higher than the 300 beats per minute I’d already reached. I was pushing 350 when the team of emergency medical personnel burst into the room.

I writhed and grimaced in fake agony, though I actually was in pain. “Can’t… breathe,” I moaned. “There’s an elephant on my chest. Help me! Please!”