Код да Винчи

Chapter 84

           EventhephysicalpainofbeingboundSilashadturnedintoaspiritualexercise,askingthethrobofhisblood-starvedmusclestoremindhimofthepainChristendured.Ihavebeenprayingallnightforliberation.Now,astheknifedescended,Silasclenchedhiseyesshut.

           Aslashofpaintorethroughhisshoulderblades.Hecriedout,unabletobelievehewasgoingtodiehereinthebackofthislimousine,unabletodefendhimself.IwasdoingGod’swork.TheTeachersaidhewouldprotectme.

           Silasfeltthebitingwarmthspreadingacrosshisbackandshouldersandcouldpicturehisownblood,spillingoutoverhisflesh.Apiercingpaincutthroughhisthighsnow,andhefelttheonsetofthatfamiliarundertowofdisorientationthebody’sdefensemechanismagainstthepain.

           Asthebitingheattorethroughallofhismusclesnow,Silasclenchedhiseyestighter,determinedthatthefinalimageofhislifewouldnotbeofhisownkiller.InsteadhepicturedayoungerBishopAringarosa,standingbeforethesmallchurchinSpain…thechurchthatheandSilashadbuiltwiththeirownhands.Thebeginningofmylife.

           Silasfeltasifhisbodywereonfire.

           «Takeadrink,»thetuxedoedmanwhispered,hisaccentFrench.«Itwillhelpwithyourcirculation.»

           Silas’seyesflewopeninsurprise.Ablurryimagewasleaningoverhim,offeringaglassofliquid.Amoundofshreddedducttapelayonthefloorbesidethebloodlessknife.

           «Drinkthis,»herepeated.«Thepainyoufeelisthebloodrushingintoyourmuscles.»

           Silasfeltthefierythrobtransformingnowtoapricklingsting.

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