Cryo-Man (Cryo-Man series, #1) Read Free

register their meaning.
    “Let’s try it louder.”
    I don’t know how to respond. Another few seconds of clicking and then more tapping, so loud this time that my head feels like it may implode. For the first time since regaining consciousness, I feel movement that I’ve caused. My eyes are already closed but my face twitches, my eyelids squeezing shut even tighter. I feel my brow furrow and the rest of my face scrunches in pain. Every movement feels pronounced; I sense the slightest twinge of every facial muscle. Despite the agony from such loud noise, it feels good to move my face, good to stretch out muscles that feel like they’ve been dormant a long time.
    My equilibrium is disturbed and I’m pretty sure the rest of my body shifted in response to the noise. But I don’t feel the pain or relief of my bodily muscles being put to use. In fact, I feel nothing at all anywhere else on my body. The sound of crunching metal – which directly corresponds to my shifting – grows louder and more agonizing as I squirm, only coming to a stop when I finally go still. I feel like I’m out of breath; more specifically, I can’t take a breath at all. I’m confused but now that I’m calmer, the noise has stopped and I no longer feel like my head will pop. Staying still and quiet seems to work best, though my only clear thought is that something is seriously wrong.
    The clicking fills my ears again and I’m worried more eardrum-bursting noise will follow. Why would anyone want to torture me? But the next round of tapping – while still inexplicably hollow – is much quieter, at a normal volume, still very close.
    “Can you hear me?” the gurgling voice asks.
    It sounds like the speaker has a sip of water in his – or her, I can’t quite tell – mouth when he – or she – speaks. This time, my mind comprehends the string of words and what they all mean when put together. This is where I’m supposed to answer – supposed to talk – but I don’t know how. The only thing I’m physically capable of doing is moving my head, which I turn slightly to the side. I’m not sure it’s a clear enough response so I try to move even more. The crunching metal noise returns and though I can’t feel my body moving, I wonder if I might be knocking something over. The sound stops when I stop so I’m convinced I have something to do with it. I move my head back in place and this time hear a quiet whirring.
    “I’ll take that as a yes,” the voice says. “And since you’ve calmed down, I’m guessing we have the volume just about right. Sorry about that before. Wish I could make things easier on you but I’m learning as I go, too.”
    The person chuckles nervously. For all I know he could be lying but at least he doesn’t sound like he means to torture me.
    “Can you move?” he asks. “I mean, I know you can move but can you control it?”
    I don’t answer; the truth is I don’t know how to answer, nor do I know what the answer is.
    “Let’s start easy, can you wiggle your toes?” he asks.
    My brain fights through the mire of confusion to understand what he wants me to do. I feel a strange desire to do as the voice says – to please the voice in any way possible – but what he asks seems impossible. I concentrate as best I can and try to move my toes but I feel nothing. Another word immediately comes to mind. It sounds strange but leaves me panicked when I remember what it means.
    Paralyzed.
    I try even harder, focus intently on my toes, but still feel nothing. I do, however, hear the odd whirring sound again followed thereafter by metal clanging against metal. My eyes remained closed but the equilibrium in my head has become distorted and I feel a rocking sensation.
    “Okay, okay,” the voice says with a mixture of urgency and excitement. “You can stop now, stop.”
    I don’t know what he wants me to stop but I try to do as he tells me. The metal immediately stops clanging.
    “This could take some getting