|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"I think he's startin' to come around," still another opined. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"How long has he been out?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Forty-five minutes at least." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Voicesjust a lot of voices. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Through my squint, heads were taking shape, heads outlined by blurry lights that gave off a spooky, pale, fuzzy-colored yellow glow. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Elliott," a softer voice intoned, "can you hear us ?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I could hear, all right, but I wasn't about to make any commitments. There were a whole bunch of other components that still had to be tested. At this point I figured surviving from one minute to the next was all I could hope for. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"He'll be all right," another voice evaluated. "He took a pretty good pounding, but I can't find much more than some contusions and a nasty whack on the head, maybe a minor concussion. He'll be pretty sore for a while, but he'll live." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
By my standards, someone was being rather glib with my prognosis, and I wanted them to stop. If I was going to defend myself I had to crawl kicking and screaming back into the world. I forced one eye partially open and then the other. The circle of faces was grim. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Madden was towering over me, glower- |
|
|
|
|
|