Torn Apart by Sharon Sala

hands, but no water came out.
    “The power is still off,” Newt said. “Just wipe your hands on that blue washrag.”
    Bobby stared at the washcloth, trying to find the color blue beneath all the grime, and opted for wiping his hands on his pants instead. He stepped out of the bathroom, then hesitated, uncertain what he was allowed to do next.
    Newt knew he had to do some fast-talking or the kid might make a run for it. With the shape he was in now, there wouldn’t be a lot Newt could do to stop him.
    “Are you hungry, kid?”
    Bobby shrugged; then, in spite of his intention not to, he couldn’t help but stare at the man’s blistered flesh.
    Newt caught the look and figured he would try for some sympathy and explain himself in the process. He wanted the kid to get used to his body—to seeing him naked—and to being naked with him. But the latter would have to come later, after the shock wore off. And it would. He knew kids. They were the most resilient creatures on the planet. Most of them were taught to mind and please grown-ups, and Newt knew how to enrich the process to his gratification.
    He walked the kid into the kitchen, then pointed at a chair. Bobby quickly took a seat. Newt sat down in the chair nearest the front door, knowing that with the lower half of his body shielded by the table, the kid would relax.
    Then held out his hands and arms.
    “We know it’s rude not to wear clothes in front of people, right? But as you can see, I got myself a really bad burn. While you were asleep, I had to go help with cleanup downtown.”
    Bobby wanted to interject that he hadn’t been sleepy, he’d been tied to the bed, but he was too afraid to correct the story.
    “Anyway, I fell in some stuff that was…was…like poison. It got all over my clothes, and it burned my skin before I could get them off. The doctor gave me some medicine. It will take a while for it to heal, but until I get better, it hurts too much for anything to touch my skin. Understand?”
    Bobby nodded. He was still uncomfortable about all that naked skin, but he was relieved to learn he couldn’t catch what was wrong with the man.
    Newt took one of the lunch sacks he’d picked up from the Red Cross tent and pushed it toward Bobby.
    “This is yours,” he said, then cursed beneath his breath as a ripple of pain poured through him. “I got it special for you. Dig in. There’s one for me, too, and some bottles of water.”
    He pushed a water bottle toward Bobby, then popped a couple of pain pills and downed them with a swig of water.
    He watched Bobby slide the sandwich out of the wrapper and begin to eat, then smiled encouragingly.
    “Way to go, kid. You’ll feel better in no time.”
    Satisfied they were making progress, Newt took out his own sandwich and wolfed it down, before starting on the banana and cookie that had come with it.
    He was oblivious to the fact that Bobby Earle was having trouble swallowing past the lump in his throat, but it did occur to him as he sat watching the kid eat that, since he’d just downed some more pain pills, he was going to have trouble staying awake.
    So how was this going to work?
    He couldn’t leave the kid on his own while he slept. And if he tried to tie him back up to the bed and the kid fought him, he was in no shape to hold him down.
    When his gaze fell on the pain pills, he got an idea. If they made him sleepy, they would make the kid sleepy, too.
    He took out a pill, broke in half and shoved it across the table.
    “Here, kid. I’m sorry about the sores on your wrists and ankles. I doctored them already, but this will help them get well faster, okay?”
    Bobby eyed the pill, then the pill bottle. He knew that doctors gave out medicine, and he’d watched Newt take some, so he didn’t think they would hurt him. And his wrists and ankles did hurt. A lot.
    He took the pill from Newt’s palm and put it in his mouth, but when he tried to swallow it, it wouldn’t go down. He began to gag, then