Chapter 16

The only thing I knew for sure when I woke up was that it was daylight. From the feel of things, I had been out a long time, but feelings don't always tell you everything you need to know, and all I knew was that I was awake.

The hospital where I woke up was noisy. That encouraged me after the last stop. I could hear all sorts of activity, and it helped to blunt the beeping machine. After multiple lives, I still wanted to hunt down the inventor and torture him to death.

My body ached.

Whatever damage the two rifle rounds did was much worse now than when I was shot. Even breathing caused stabbing pain, and I knew I had to breathe deeply, or get pneumonia.

I was struggling to get air deep into my lungs when Roberta showed up.

"You're awake," she said brightly.

"I was just noticing that myself," I answered softly, because speaking any louder was going to hurt.

"How are you feeling?"

"I can just barely breathe. Something's way wrong. I think I need to see the surgeon as soon as possible." She saw the struggle I was having and ran out to summon a doctor.

It didn't take long and two doctors showed up. Neither wasted a moment. My condition must have looked obvious, because I was suddenly being pushed at a run through the hallways on the way somewhere. The hospital must have been under orders to take good care of me, because both doctors were giving a string of orders over some kind of microphone attached to their ears.

Roberta was keeping pace beside me, holding my free hand, and giving orders of her own into a wrist mic. I felt like I should be telling someone to do something just so I'd fit in. That made me laugh, and laughing hurt so bad it triggered a cough, which hurt so bad that I gasped and passed out, again.

... beeeeppp ... beeeeeeepppp ... beeeeeeeppppp ... beeeeeeeepppppp and then nothing.

The next thing I felt was myself floating. The world was far beneath me, and I was going away, not towards earth. The pain was somewhere ... back there. I knew the pain was waiting for me ... back there. The hurt was still painful ... back there. If I went back there, it would all come on me again, but not here, where I existed.

How does one describe a place that exists between life and death?

Death finally had me fully in its claws. I could actually feel the talons of death tearing at me, dragging me from my body. The sound death makes when it has you, owns you, takes you ... is frightening.

I heard it, all too clearly.

The deadness that accompanies death is terrifying, and lonely. When you stand – or float, as the case may be – in the presence of death, you know it. There is no doubting death. I knew because I'd been nearby several times, but never in its clutch before.

Before was all behind me now.

I had substance, which confused me, because each time I'd died the most notable thing was the lack of anything.

My substance had sensations...

I saw shapes.

I FELT pain.

I heard scary sounds.

I feared death in that moment.

At other times I entertained myself with satire about each of my deaths. This time I froze in fear.

The wind came up unexpectedly, bringing the rotten, fetid, smell of death to my dead nostrils, to torment me. My lips curled back from the onslaught of malicious odors, tinged with horrifying scents.

Wind???

How could there be wind in the place of death?